Page 42 of Bleeding Hearts

“That’s the one.” I huff, annoyed just by the thought of him. “I completely ignored him, even though he was very obviously staring at me while she stood beside him, giving me her usual death stare. But then she got called over to a table and he decided it would be a good idea to come try and hit on me. Again.”

“You’re fucking joking. What an idiot.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Right,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “Anyway, I obviously turn him down and try to walk away, but the dickwad doesn’t know when to quit. So, he tries to follow me, throwing his arm over my shoulders right when Sheila walks over.”

“Wouldn’t she be mad at him more than you? He was basically harassing you. She’s the manager. It's her job to protect you from that shit, not expose you to it.”

“Yeah, well she’s not a very good manager, but we already knew that. She basically freaked out and blamed me yet again.” I pause, pinching the skin between my eyebrows as I remember exactly what happened. “She called me a homewrecking slut, loudly, loud enough to gather customers' attention. Then she proceeded to grab a customer’s glass of water from the nearest table and threw it at me.”

“Let’s go.” Asher stands abruptly and I look at him, confused. “I can’t touch her, but I can sure as hell kill her asshole boyfriend.”

“We’ve had this discussion, Asher. You’re just too pretty for jail.” I sigh, trying to make light of the situation.

“I’m serious, Demi. Nobody should be allowed to treat you that way and get away with it.”

“And they won’t.” I reach out, grabbing his arm to pull him to sit back down on the couch. “I appreciate you trying to be my knight in shining armor, but they’re not worth it. Over a dozen customers saw the exchange. There’s no way Sheila won’t be fired, even with her family connections. But regardless, I’m done. I can’t be there anymore.”

“So, what are you gonna do now?” he asks. He still looks pissed, but he makes no move to get up from the couch again, respecting my decision.

“I have no fucking clue.” I shrug. “Maybe it could be a good thing. The end goal has always been to be in the kitchen rather than waitressing, so maybe it’s time I really try to make that happen.”

I watch as Asher sits up straighter, his eyes widening as though a light bulb just went on in his head.

“When was the last time you opened your mail?” he asks, and I pinch my brows in confusion.

“I don’t know. All my bills are online and by the time I remember to go to the mail room to grab it, I’m always comfy in bed, so it’s too much work.” I pause, trying to remember the last time I was down there. “Well, shit. Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s probably been almost two months. Whoops.” I shrug. “Why?”

“Two months?” He looks at me, dumbfounded. “Who doesn’t check their mail for two whole months?”

“I don’t know, I just forgot. It’s normally all junk anyway. What’s the big deal?” I ask, still confused why we’re talking about my mail.

“Okay, so don’t freak out, but I may have applied for you to that big cooking convention you wouldn’t shut up about and I forgot about it until right now.”

“The Portland Culinary Conference?” I shout, jumping up from the couch. “When? Why? How?” I fire off the questions at rapid speed and he stands, his hands falling on my shoulders to stop me.

“A couple months ago. Because you deserve a chance to be there with the best of the best. And it was actually pretty easy to apply for you. I know most of your information and whatever I didn’t know, I just asked you, to which you responded with no questions asked. Oh, and I stole your phone one day and reached out to that bakery owner you love, Lydia, and she wrote you a killer reference.”

“You reached out to Lydia?” I freeze, and I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. “You did all of that for me?”

“Of course I did. I told you I’d do anything for you.” His voice takes on a more serious note.

I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tight. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me, holding me. I let myself revel in the comfort his embrace brings. I let myself have this one moment.

Then I slowly let my arms fall and step away.

“Thank you.” I wipe a single tear that escapes and smile up at him.

“Always.” He smiles back and I feel that smile deep in my bones.

I don’t know what is going on with us today, but it feels like there’s been a shift. Something about being in his arms feels different.

It feels like that single word holds so much promise. Between the way his golden eyes burn into mine and how his smile feels as though it’s touching a piece of my soul, in this moment, I feel connected to Asher in a way that I never have.

It’s fucking terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

“Shit, my mail. That’s where the acceptance would be,” I say as the realization pops into my head, breaking the moment. “We have to go.” I turn to walk toward the door of his apartment without a second thought.

“Yup, coming.” He follows behind me, sliding his shoes on by the door and grabbing his keys. “I’ll drive.”

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