Page 31 of Stunner (Whiskey Dolls 3)

I hated to admit, even to myself, that his words hit their mark, but I would have been lying if I said he hadn’t just placed a niggling of doubt in the back of my mind that I could be good enough for Asher. It was the same shit he’d pulled all our lives, little digs here and there, passive aggressive shit to remind me I was beneath him. But like always, I’d be damned if I let him see his mind games worked. That was knowledge I’d take to my goddamn grave.

“The man who gave her that shit was also a sacless coward who jumped out a fucking window, so she might be looking for arealman who knows how to treat a good thing when he’s lucky enough to have it.”

I saw the fire flash in his watery eyes. “Yeah? Well how do you think she’d feel if she knew the truth about you?” Ice shot up my spine and spread across my limbs, seeping into my bonesand holding me immobile. “That’s what I thought,” he said with a sneer when I momentarily lost control and let my mask slip. He stood from the couch, lifting his arms in a placating gesture. “But, hey, man. You want my sloppy seconds, go for it. Just remember who got in there first.”

That was it. The thin thread my control had been hanging by snapped. My arm shot forward, fisting the collar of Jackson’s stupid polo. All traces of smugness were gone, panic taking over as I twisted and balled the material of his shirt, slowly tightening it and threatening his air supply.

My lips pulled back, baring my teeth in a snarl as I yanked him so close, our noses were barely an inch apart. “Don’t youevertalk about Asher like that again. You understand me?” I didn’t bother giving him a chance to answer before I used my hold to give him a nasty jerk, causing his head to snap back. “Say you get me.”

“I get you! I get you!” he cried out, trying to pry me off him, one finger at a time, but I wasn’t letting go so easy. I brought him up on his toes so he could see my eyes more clearly, enjoying the fact I still had half an inch on him.

“Good. ’Cause if I hear you’ve referred to Asher as your sloppy seconds, or anything as derogatory, to anyone else, a broken nose and busted lip will be the least of your problems.”

“I-is that a threat?” he blustered.

“Goddamn right it is. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

With that, I gave him a shove, sending him stumbling over the coffee table and falling flat on his ass. He didn’t say another word as he struggled to his feet and bolted out my door.

It really was amazing how one person could take a day that had gone so fucking well and ruin it with nothing more than their presence.

15

ASHER

Me:How many unanswered text messages does it take to consider yourself ghosted?

Sloane:I think it depends on the circumstances. What’s going on?

Me:I took your advice and asked Owen to the anniversary party a few days ago. Well, kind of.

Sloane:No freaking way! That’s awesome! But what do you mean, kind of?

Me:I started to ask him, but then he jumped on it and offered before I had a chance to finish.

Me:And then he almost kissed me.

Me:Or at least I think he almost kissed me.

Me:It’s hard to know for sure because Triumph took a massive poo in the middle of his living room right when he was about to maybe kiss me and ruined the moment.

I wasn’t the least bit surprised when my phone rang with a FaceTime call a second after I hit send. The moment Sloane’s face popped up on the screen, she shrieked, “What the ever-loving hell, Asher!” Triumph stopped mid-stroll to look back at me from the end of his leash and cock his head as if the ask,what the hell is that god-awful noise?

“Hello to you too,” I answered in a normal, much calmer tone of voice. “How’s your day been so far?”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” She narrowed her eyes and brought her face so close to the screen I could nearly see up her nose. “And where are you?”

“At the dog park. It’s good for Triumph to get a little exercise after the accident. Plus, I thought maybe this would help him stop peeing all over my rugs.”

I’d only had Satan’s little minion for three days, but I’d already lost count of the number of puddles I’d had to clean up. And it was almost as if Triumph knew to skip the yards and yards of laminate flooring and go straight to the carpet or rug to do his business just to make things difficult for me.

I looked accusingly to my dog as I spoke to Sloane. “If he wasn’t so damn cute and I didn’t already love him so much I want to puke, I might put his furry little butt up for adoption.”

Sloane rolled her eyes and blew out a raspberry. “Oh, please. You’re all talk and we both know it. But enough about that adorable, squishy little face. You can’t just randomly text me about being ghosted, then tell me you nearly kissed the hottest veterinarian in the state, and not go into detail. I want to knoweverything.”

Finding a bench nearby, I took a seat and tossed Triumph one of the squeaky toys my mother bought him as a way to spoil him rotten. Still unable to run because of his injuries, my little guy took his toy and plopped down in the grass near my feet, content to sun himself on such a beautiful day while attacking that squeaker every few seconds as I poured out the whole story of what had transpired between Owen and me. I started with my attempt at asking him out, then moved to that near kiss, and finished with the fact I’d texted him once a day for the past three days, all of which had been read yet unanswered.

Sloane let out a snort and waved a hand in front of the screen. “Sorry. I just need a moment.” She giggled. “Talk about bad timing on Triumph’s part.”

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