I take her hand, forcing the shock down my throat. “Nice to meet you?”
She looks between Asher and me, insulted. “Camille. Wait, Asher hasn't mentioned me?”
“Camille.” I gesture toward the kitchen. “Welcome, and no, I don't believe he has.”
She drifts away without another word, gravitating toward Parker. Of course. She probably already knew him, since he is Asher's friend. Thought he was my best friend but whatever…
Asher’s jaw tenses. Almost two years of friendship. Of late-night texts and inside jokes and him knowing exactly which whiskey I stock.
Fiancée.
“And you must be At—” I pivot to the twin, letting my gaze rake over him. “—let?”
His mouth quirks. Amused. “Atlas.”
“Right.” I snap my fingers, stepping away from them. Distance. Always distance. “Didn't know Asher had a brother.”
I claim the sofa furthest away, desperate to put as much distance between us. I feel sick.
“Ah, that's Asher. The secretive one.” Atlas winks playfully at his brother before joining me in the living room.
“Thank you for letting us crash here.” Atlas smacks Punk's ass as she makes her way to the corner bar.
“You're welcome. We have space. Daniel!” I call out, turning over my shoulder for my driver.
Daniel is a man of few words, but when his eyes lock onto Asher, I don’t miss the seconds that they both stare at each other.
“Can you grab their bags, please?” I interrupt, turning back to the group with a forced smile, only to find that when I'm back on Asher, he's placing a kiss on Camille's temple, his eyes closed and his jaw tight.
My stomach plummets. Ugly, feral jealousy claws its way up my throat. I'm human. Most would say a tough one, but right now, I feel like less than nothing.
Camille giggles, and leaves through the kitchen. The second she's out of earshot, Asher drops onto the sofa beside me and my whole body tenses.
His arm sprawls across the back. One of my closest friends just waltzed in with a secret fiancée I knew nothing about.
“Camille seems nice.” I angle toward him, doing what I do best.
He catches my stare, sinking deeper into the cushions and spreading his knees wide. “Yeah.”
“Asher.” The whisper scrapes out of me. I know he fucking hears me, but his eyes stay locked on the fireplace, jaw working overtime. “Why didn't you text me back? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”
“I thought I did?” He pitches forward, tension rippling through his shoulders. Even just sitting beside me, he’s a mountain. He’s like this house. Absorbs all the light in this world and reflects nothing but darkness back. “You knew the Winter Games were here. Remember?”
He's right. I did.
My mouth falls open a little. I wasn’t meaning that, I was talking about his fiancée.
I can't be jealous. I can’t afford to be jealous.I’m so fucked.
“Hey.” His thigh taps mine and my heart skips. Probably from all the scenarios flying around inside my head. “Don't do that.”
“Do what?” I ask, sucking in a breath and looking through eyes I’d found a home in.
He leans in close, so close I can feel the soft brushes of every exhale. It’s so easy for me to get lost in him. To just allow myself to fall in.
His mouth twitches. “That thing you're doing where you look jealous.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
