“I’m sure you’ll tell me eventually,” I say instead, rolling my eyes. “So, tell me about this plot of land?”
His knuckles brush my arm, but instead of moving, he leaves them there as his elbow hangs over the back casually. “Nothing too serious right now. It’s more of a renovation than anything.”
I can’t think of anything past the rhythm of his gentle stroke on my arm.
“Enough about me,” he says, and I sigh. “When did you turn into a park rat? I mean, I only taught you how to balance on your deck and barely started teaching you how to Eurocarve.”
The unfortunate thing about being stuck on a lift with your friend, slash, crush, slash, husband’s friend, slash—whatever the fuck else I can think of, is there’s no escaping his questions.
“What if I told you someone else taught me?” I arch my brow, but his face transforms. Every muscle goes rigid. Lines carve deep between his brows. His mouth twists—not a snarl, but close enough to make my pulse stutter. My lungs seize. My thighs clench. Shit. That wasn't the game plan. I should backtrack.I won't.
I flatten my expression. “Joking.” The word drops between us, dead on arrival. He won't buy it.
He glares at me. “Never been very funny, Venom. Wouldn't test it again.”
I hang my chin over the bar and peek down at the ocean of frost below, allowing satisfaction to eat away at my insides. Asshole. That’s what he gets for annoying me lately.
Trees scatter through the snow in patches of shadows, and the setting sun turns the sky above into a sorbet of tangerine. The days are shorter now, the nights longer. Perfect for Winter Games.
“Well, to answer your question,” I murmur, figuring I owe it to him for once. “Since you left me alone so often lately, I figured I had to find another way to burn time.” I sniff as the cold bite of air clips my nose, eyes stinging. The smile grabs hold of my mouth before I can shut it down. He’s too easy to tease thesedays, and I’m greedy for any reaction that proves he still gives a shit.
Heat blooms across my cheek when the back of his hand grazes my skin. Every touch lately sets off a chain reaction—organs jerking awake, nerves sparking, my body breaking apart and reaching for him in one breath.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you smile like that.”
My attention snaps to him, walls slamming into place so fast it makes me light-headed. I straighten, drag my lips flat. “Asher.”
He silences my protest by capturing my chin between his forefinger and thumb. “Shut up and accept the compliment, Ivy. You have to know the effect you have on everyone around you.” His words pierce through my defenses, but I refuse to let them take root.
No. That's not who I am.
I'm terrifying.
I'm intimidating.
I'm… nothing like the woman he's describing.Nothing like what he's making me feel.
A broken laugh escapes his throat. “Why are you looking at me like I'm the first person to ever tell you this?” His voice dips low, as if I’d blurted out the answer myself. “I should beat Parker’s ass.”
The laugh that rips out of me is maniacal. “I’ve been called everything but that, but you know me, Ash. I don’t need to be told I’m beautiful.” Compliments never did anything for me.
My weak attempt to shift out of his embrace only makes him tighten around me, his body a cage I keep pretending I don’t want to be trapped in.
“Look at me.” His thumb drags along the outline of my mouth, setting tiny bursts of heat under my skin, nerves firing in a wild pattern.
My lungs lock, my lips parting on a breath I don’t take. Then his hand is gone, and the empty space he leaves behind splits wider in my chest, raw and stupid, and I hate that I already miss his touch.
This is not good.
He lifts his phone. We’ve taken so many photos over the time we’ve known each other. Mostly all silly, and mostly all to use against the other in all forms of blackmail, but nothing like this.
“What are you doing?” I ask, the smirk on the side of my face unbearable. His attention is on his phone with his tongue sticking out, a full-tooth smile, and some other random shit he pulls with his hands.
“I’m taking shots of you without you trying so you can see what the fuck we all see.”
My laugh slips out before I can stop it, and I shake my head as I turn to the camera. Seeing us both on the screen feels like my feet hitting the ground after being left to float all my life.
He turns toward me, and I keep my face to the front, forcing my eyes to stay on the lens as he comes closer. My heart beats so hard I swear I feel the vibrations right down to my feet. Time slows for a moment, as if the universe is allowing me a second chance to finally see what has been in front of me all along.
