“That’s the one.”
“Wow.” He exhales slowly, clearly distracted from our current situation. “Do you keep in contact with her?” He holds up a finger. “Wait, you obviously do. What’s she like? I always wondered what kind of woman Seth married. I’ve seen photos because I googled him when I first joined the gym, but I never heard what happened. Why’d they separate?”
“Honestly?” I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve asked, and neither of them have said much about it.”
“But if you had to guess?”
Shaking my head, I don’t answer. “I care about them both, and they’ve shared things with me in confidence, so I’m not going to guess. It’s up to them if they want to tell people what happened, and clearly they don’t.”
I have my suspicions though. I’m not sure what the catalyst was, but my guess is that Seth let Ashlin down somehow or messed up. She’s the steadiest, most consistently open-hearted person I know and I can’t imagine why else she’d end things with him when neither of them have truly recovered from it.
“You’re a good person,” he says, even if he looks disappointed not to get the gossip. “Trustworthy. I love that about you.”
My discomfort must show on my face because he sighs. “It will be okay. Seth will see reason. After all, we’ve got a secret weapon now. Just make me a promise?”
“What?”
“Come back to me.” Vulnerability steals over his face. “Even if you talk with Ashlin and decide that my idea of separating temporarily is the best way to go, promise it won’t be permanent. I need you in my life.”
Leaning over the space between the seats, I kiss him. “I promise.”
ChapterEighteen
Harley
A few hours later, I walk to the café where Ashlin chose to meet. As I enter, I scan the tables and catch sight of her in the corner. The place is dimly lit with wood surfaces everywhere. She stands, and I take stock of her. It’s been eight years since I saw her in person, and although we’ve had a few video calls, seeing her on a camera is nothing like laying eyes on her in real life. She’s as petite as ever—barely more than five feet tall, with a slight build and sleek brunette hair that’s cut in a long bob. Back when I saw her regularly, she had beachy waves that cascaded over her back and shoulders. She smiles as she comes around the table toward me and the corners of her eyes crinkle. Her cheeks are more angular than they used to be, but I guess that’s the effect of age. She was twenty-two when I moved away—four years older than me and eight years younger than Seth—but she’s thirty now, and more stunning than ever. It’s always amazed me that someone as feminine and popular as her would want to be friends with a short-tempered tomboy like me, but she never seemed to notice the difference between us.
“Harley, it’s so good to see you!” She envelops me in a floral-scented hug, and I close my arms around her, taking care not to squeeze too hard in case I break her. But I ought to remember that Ashlin has always been tougher than she looks, and she squeezes me back tight enough to wind me.
“You look good, Ash.” I pull back and re-familiarize myself with her features. Eyes a shade browner than mine. Pointed chin. Pixie-like and delicate. “I’ve missed you.”
“Same goes,” she agrees, her lips lifting into a ready smile. That hasn’t changed, either. Ashlin has a smile for every occasion. “I thought about visiting you in Thailand but didn’t want to interfere with your training.” She gestures for me to sit, and I do, while she returns to her place on the other side. “What brought you home?”
“You mean to Vegas?” I ask wryly. “Cedar Bend is home.”
She inclines her head. “True. So?”
With as few words as possible, I tell her about Thaklaew and the fight I was supposed to lose. She hums sympathetically, reaches across the table and touches my hand.
“I’m sorry. That must have been rough. Did you love him?”
Glancing at the surface of the table, I raise one shoulder and then drop it. “I don’t think so. It was just… convenient. Dependable.”
Her lips twitch. “How romantic.”
Despite myself, I grin. “Have you ever known me to be the romantic type?”
“I live in hope.”
An image of Devon flashes into my mind. Her hope isn’t entirely unfounded.
Her eyes narrow. “What was that?”
“What was what?” I ask stupidly.
“Harley Isles,” she exclaims. “You were thinking of a boy. Don’t try to deny it, I know that look. Wait, is that why you need advice?”
Holding my palms up, I concede the point. She’s always been good at reading people. It’s part of what makes her such a good teacher. “Yeah, okay. There’s someone new, and we’ve landed in a bit of a sticky situation.”
