“Nice outfit,” he says drily. “Did you come for the show?” he asks me, turning back to his workout.
I chuckle and say, “No, but mind if I pull up a chair and watch?”
He throws another ax, which lands dead center in the bullseye. “What do you want, Mae?” he growls without looking back at me.
Okay then, we’re back to Asshole Asmo. “I feel weird about how things went last night, so I wanted to come see you and make sure we were okay.”
“Is this because you feel guilty about going back with my brother?” he asks.
“Nothing happened,” I say.
“You don’t need to tell me even if something did. You don’t owe me anything.”
I hesitate but say, “I know that. I just…I don’t take what happened between us lightly, and I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression by leaving so suddenly after.”
“To be with my whiny little brother,” he adds, but then grumbles, “You didn’t.” He throws another ax, grunting at the effort. It strikes the bullseye perfectly.
I sigh, struggling with what to say. Before I can, he turns to me and says, “You didn’t give me the wrong impression. And even if you fucked every single male in this place, I wouldn’t care.”
Well, then. I guess last night meant nothing to him then if he cares so little about me.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, turning to leave.
I make it to the door before he says, “Don’t forget the black dress.”
I pretend I don’t hear him and leave, slamming the door shut behind me.
Asmo’s knock on my door comes right on time. He’s dressed in the same outfit that he wore the other night.
“Are we recreating the night?” I ask.
“No, because you weren’t already in the dress when I first arrived,” he says soberly. He steps inside without me inviting him, but I move aside anyway.
When he’s inside, he looks me up and down. I’m wearing the dress he requested, paired with caramel thigh-high boots and the same leather jacket. His eyes roam up and down my body, a smile on his face. Even though I saw him earlier, albeit briefly, it’s the first one I’ve seen from him today, and his mood seems…different. He seems happier.
“You can’t be serious,” he says.
“What?” I ask.
“You look…you’re really my High Queen?” he says, his tone incredulous. “You look incredible.”
I eye him, not believing the compliment. He doesn’t give compliments that freely. “Are you serious?”
“I am. You look…drop-dead,” he says, his eyes finally meeting mine. They have the same look that they did the other night in the pool. They look glazed over as he stares at me. My entire body flushes at the weight of his gaze, heat pooling low and tight in my belly.
“Thank you,” is all I’m able to say without my voice wavering.
He clears his throat and says, “Let’s go.” He offers his hand to me, which shocks me, but I place my hand in his and follow him out the door and down the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Didn’t you ask me this the other night?” he asks. I nod, and he says, “Well? What did I say when you first asked?”
I roll my eyes. “Patience is a virtue,” I say in a deep voice, mocking him.
He laughs. “And it is. But I’ll tell you this time. I would like to recreate the other night, so we’re going back to the same place.”
We step outside, only to find that it’s raining. But that doesn’t stop him. We step into the rain, but the rain doesn’t touch us. I look up at him, a question on the tip of my tongue.
