I flip the lights on. He isn’t even here. Where on earth would he be at 2:00 a.m.?
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, no.
The obvious answer leaps to my brain, unwelcome and gross. He found a girl at the bachelor shenanigans, didn’t he? He’s probably in her room now. She’s touching him. He’s kissing her.
Well, damn. The heart that was pounding so hard before withers in my chest. I’m going to be sick. Why’d I drink so much wine?
I snap on the lights in the main room, flooding the luxurious space in a warm ambiance I can’t feel, and sink onto the couch.
Would Asher do that, though?
He wouldn’t. I don’t think he would. He doesn’t do one-night stands.
But why wouldn’t he? He’s entitled to fun. To making mistakes. He’s probably drunk. Probably thought I’d be asleep, and assumed he’d be back before I woke. No harm done.
I’m not allowed to be jealous about this. I don’t even want him. I just don’t like thinking about him with someone else. Unfair, but true.
So yeah. That’s it. That’s all it is.
Calm down. Stop thinking about it.As soon as my heart returns to my chest, I’ll go right back to sleep.
But it doesn’t return. I am hollow, and I stay on that couch, staring sightlessly at the French doors to the darkened balcony, aching. I’m alone on my hill.
Not thirty minutes later, Asher stumbles into the suite, zigzagging through the hall toward the living room.
Something happens. Something invisible, but profound. The sight of him sets off a violent chain reaction inside me, causing enough pain to make me wince. I’m not sure what exactly happens to my body. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Like falling, but also like standing on steady ground. Like something new with the comfort of home.
I’ve lost something, but gained something, too.
Large pieces of me are no longer mine. The hacksaw has removed them and dropped them right at his feet.
“Whoa,” I say, shoving it all down below a locked hatch. “Are you a little drunk or totally wasted?”
He holds up a finger. “Julian eats shots.”
“That... makes no sense.”
He nods likeI know!and falls onto the couch beside me.
I poke his shoulder. “Where were you?”
“Bar. Lots of pool. I lost. Even more alcohol. Lost there, too.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying to tease. “Strippers?”
His eyes narrow. “Why’re you awake?”
I sigh. “Nightmare.”
“Shit.” His expression falls, and he glances between his lighted room and my dark one before his inebriated gaze finds me. “You were looking for me, weren’t you?”
The pattern of the sofa fabric draws my undivided attention.
“And I wasn’t here.” He slurs the words together, but his tone is clearly distraught.
