Now would be a great time to stop talking, drunk Liv.
“But I wouldn’t hit onyou,so don’t worry,” I try to recover. “For one, you grimace way too much. Like Oscar the Grouch.”
Asher just peers down at me with those damn hypnotizing eyes, very Oscar like.
“Tough crowd,” I whisper under my breath.
“My job is to make sure you aren’t suffering from smoke inhalation, not to entertain you.”
“You’re the one who brought up marriage,” I quip.Didn’t he?
“Fucking alcohol,” he mumbles. “The last thing I’d be talking about is marriage.Youneed to sleep.” Asher’s voice trails off as he puts his oxygen meter away.
“Why?” I ask.
“Why what?” Asher’s eyes drop to my mouth as I lick my lips. He swallows slowly, and the way his throat works sends a thrill through me. Suddenly I’m hyperaware that I’m sitting here in very thin pajamas and no bra.
“Why wouldn’t you be talking about marriage?” I tighten the sweater around me.
“Because it’s a ridiculous institution.”
“What do you mean? You never want to get married?” I push.
His jaw tics again. “No.”
My eyes widen. “Never? I mean, no partner, no companion? Isn’t that what everyone wants?”
“No.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why not?”
“Take this off.” Asher tugs at the bottom of my sweater and my stomach drops with his commanding tone, though I do what he says as he moves around to my back. I hold my breath as he gently brushes my thick hair over my shoulder before pressing his stethoscope to my back through my tank. As his warm fingers connect with my skin, little sparks race through my chest and my nipples harden. The mortification sets in when I realize he’ll be able to hear how fast my heart is beating. A moment passes as he listens. If he does notice, he doesn’t let on.
“Getting married is a sham for people who want to feel secure. Nothing lasts forever. Including romantic love. Now, give me a deep breath,” he orders.
I want to dig deeper into his thoughts as he finishes listening to my lungs, but I don’t get the chance to ask him what made him so cynical because a county police cruiser pulls up beside us and I see that it’s Wayne, Laurel Creek’s deputy sheriff. Asher quickly repacks his medical bag and walks over to meet him.
“Her vitals are normal but she’s three sheets to the wind.”
Asher looks down at my cow slippers over his shoulder. “Maybe four.”
“Hi, Wayne,” I say, waving from my place at the back of the cruiser.
“Hey, Olivia.” He tips his hat. I went to school with Wayne, and it’s nice to see a friendly face in this moment.
Wayne takes a look at my house, hands on his hips, as the last of the smoke dissipates out the now open kitchen window.
“Do you have somewhere to go tonight?” he asks me as he comes closer, Asher beside him.
The realization that I can’t go inside my own home hits me with a force I’m not prepared for and, suddenly, the wine in my stomach starts to churn. All my belongings, my clothes, mementos, photos. Everything I own …
“A friend? Your parents?” Wayne pushes softly.
I shake my head. CeCe and Nash have an early doctor’s appointment. And CeCe’s hardly sleeping as it is. Cole and Ginger’s spare room has turned into wedding central, plus I wouldn’t want to wake Mabel on a school night, and I’mnotdealing with my parents right now. My mother’s worried energy would send me over the edge.
“I’ll just … I can stay at the Motor Court Inn and call my parents in the morning.”
Asher looks me over, and I can almost see those mysterious gears grinding behind his eyes.
