Page 89 of In Case You Didn't Know
Asher squeezes my thigh. And doesn’t remove his hand.
The rest of dinner passes quickly. Ben finds his voice again after dessert, but all I can think about is Asher’s finger tracing my thigh. I don’t dare drink. I barely eat.
“Everything okay?” Skyler asks.
“She looks peaky,” Asher says. “I should probably take her home.”
“But we have coffee coming,” Skyler protests. “Is your head hurting?”
“Coffee is very bad for concussions,” Asher murmurs.
Skyler frowns. “I brought her coffee this morning. She seemed fine.”
“He’s very passionate about concussions,” I say. “Very… thorough.”
Asher smirks. His hand gives my thigh one last squeeze before pulling away. Thankfully, before I combust.
“Well, far be it from me to stand in the way of healing,” Skyler drawls. “Just make sure she rests.”
“Rest is the plan,” Asher says, giving me a look that says it very much isn’t.
I slip my arms into my cardigan. “Thanks for dinner,” I say to Skyler. Then to Hudson, “Have a good night.”
“I’m pretty sure yours will be better,” Skyler says, brows lifting.
Hudson looks at Asher for a long moment, but Asher’s face remains neutral. I can almost see the clock in his brain ticking.
Before he can speak, Asher is pulling out my chair. When I stand, he puts his warm hand along the curve of my back, propelling me to the dining room door.
“Hey, are you doing New York Fashion Week? We should exchange numbers,” Ben says, jumping up with his phone. “So we can?—”
“No,” Asher says firmly, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the hallway. In no time we are out into the night, the cool air a welcome relief to my flushed skin. Sliding his hand around my waist, he leads me to his car, pulling the passenger door open. But before I can sit inside, his mouth is at my ear, his body pressed against my hip.
“You don’t give your number to men like Ben, sweetheart. Not when you’re mine.”
twenty-five
FRANCIE
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Hudson’s for dinner?” Asher asks, pulling out of the driveway and onto the road that leads to the lighthouse. There’s an edge to his voice that sends a shiver down my spine.
Glancing out of the window, I can see the moonlight glimmering on the inky black ocean. “You didn’t call me all day,” I remind him. “When was I supposed to tell you?”
“I was with Hudson all day,” he replies. A frown plays at his lips. “Did you want me to call you? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because maybe I wanted you to want to call me without any prompting,” I say.
For a second he says nothing. Like he’s trying to take the words in. I’m not trying to argue with him, but this is all very new and I’m not sure why he’s suddenly so mad with me.
“Of course I wanted to call you,” he finally says. “I didn’t want to leave your fucking bed this morning. I was thinking about you all damn day. And then...”
“Then what?” I ask, genuinely interested.
“And then I find you flirting with another guy.”
I turn to him, my brows raised. “Flirting? Are you serious? Did I look like I was entranced by his bro words?”
His knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel. “He wanted your number. I nearly hit the guy. I spent most of last night inside of you for fuck’s sake.”
