He changes the subject. “Do you like the scotch?”
“No,” I answer honestly.
That’s one of the perks about hanging out alone with Asher: I don’t have to lie to him, or be polite to him, or be anything I’m not. I’m not trying to impress him. He huffs a laugh, but I can’t get over the fact that I didn’t know his mom was gone. If we really were dating, I’d be the worst girlfriend on the planet.
“What’s your middle name?” I ask.
“Why?”
“Because I’m realizing I know next to nothing personal about you. If I have to meet your family in two weeks, I should probably know more about you.”
“Okay, fair. Collins is my middle name.”
“Asher Collins McCavern.” I test out his full name on my tongue, like a wine that you’re trying for the first time. How you’re supposed to swirl it around and smell it first. Though I usually just gulp it down. “I like that.” He doesn’t say anything in return. “Aren’t you going to ask mine?”
“We’re not hanging out withyourfamily,” he says. I shake my head again at his blatant crudeness. “Fine, what is yours?”
“Elizabeth.”
“Sloane Elizabeth Sawyer.” He says each name with a pause in between, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard any man say my full name before. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Would I like it if it were Wes saying it? I make a mental note to find out.
“What’s your favorite color?” I ask.
“Blue.”
“Favorite movie?”
“TheLord of the Ringstrilogy. They were my favorite books growing up.”
“Interesting,” I say.
“What, you didn’t think I’d be into fantasy?”
“No, I didn’t think you knew how to read.”
He smirks. “If that’s impressive, wait until you see how high I can count.”
I laugh and continue with my line of questioning. “If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?”
“This is a dumb question,” he says.
I swirl around the scotch. “Just answer it. Mine would be Lana Del Rey, or no, no, wait, it would be—”
“Hans Zimmer,” he says.
I shake my head, still thinking. “No, not him.”
“No, that’s mine,” he says. “He’s my favorite composer.”
“Asher Collins!” I say, surprised. “You are such a nerd—I had no idea.”
He shakes his head. “Okay, enough with these questions.”
“But I’m just getting started! Just a few more.” I can feel mycheeks getting hot from the drink as I manage to choke down the rest of what he poured me if only to get it over with. I’m surprised how it goes right to my head for such a small amount, and now I get why people drink this stuff.
“My family wouldn’t think it’s weird if you didn’t know who in the world I’d have dinner with. In fact, the weirdest thing between us—” he starts but cuts himself off, also drinking the rest of his drink and setting it down on the nightstand beside him.
“Is what?” I ask.
