“I didn’t mean to see you like that,” I whispered, breath unsteady as his fingers drifted higher. It didn’t hurt there, but I’d lie if it meant he’d keep going.
A smile tugged at his lips. “Hope what you saw didn’t disappoint.”
No way it could have—and he knew it.
His fingertips stilled just above my ankle. “Your skin’s so smooth.”
The words were a whisper, but they sent a tremor through me. His palm slid higher, warm against my bare knee.
Then his lips brushed the skin there—a soft graze that stole my breath.
“Ash…”
His eyes locked on mine.
The front doorcreaked open. Our parents’ voices drifted upstairs, shattering the moment into fragments.
With a groan, Asher rose. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your room.”
***
By dinner, the pain in my ankle had faded to a dull throb. Maybe the ointment helped, but so had Asher’s gentle touch.
He looked at me over the rim of his glass like we shared a secret. I couldn’t handle the weight of his gaze—or the memory of his naked body and that small, burning kiss—so I pretended to be fascinated by the takeout pasta on my plate.
“Kaia,” Dad said after we finished the main course. “How’s studying for the PSAT?”
Of course. Not a word about the showcase. Ignoring what didn’t matter to him was his signature move.
“Fine.” I shrugged. “There’s still time.”
“Not as much as you think.”
What did he want me to do—excuse myself and start cramming right then?
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “There’s plenty. It’s in April. I study almost every day.”
He hummed. “Then I can count on you to stay home and study next weekend. Sharon and I will be away.”
“We’re going to a concert in Ellingworth,” Sharon chimed in. “Spending the weekend there. We’ll be back Sunday night. Hope that’s okay with you two.”
Next weekend.
I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood.
He’d been married to Mom for fifteen years, yet acted like she’d never mattered. And if she hadn’t, then neither did I. I was just a reminder of the past he’d erased. We’d both lost her in December five years ago, but I was the only one still keeping her memory alive.
My chair screeched against the hardwood as I shoved it back and stood. Dad glared, and for once, I wished he’d ask why. But he never did. Never would.
I fled upstairs, eyes stinging, and dropped onto my bed with my head in my hands.
Five years. Therapy sessions that hadn’t done shit. I should’ve been over losing her, but Dad’s indifference only made me miss her more.
“Kaia.”
Ash leaned against the doorframe. “What’s wrong? You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
