“I’m so sorry—” My lungs seize up as I stare at the man I bumped into. “Ash?”
His lips are moving, but with my adrenaline pumping like this, all I can hear is the pounding in my ears. Grasping my wrist, he leads me inside.
My hands are wet and cold now from the air conditioning, so they don’t want to cooperate, and it takes me a moment to pull my key card from my wallet. We ride the elevator in silence, my hair and clothes dripping onto the tile. Thank goodness I didn’t put on makeup this morning. If I had, it would be smeared down my face.
Only when we walk through my front door and I drop my gym bag and kick off my shoes, do I finally focus on him.
“Can I get you a towel?” he asks.
At the same time, I say, “What are you doing here?”
Rather than answer, he meanders down the hall and retrieves a towel from the linen closet.
When he returns, I remove my jacket and hang it up by the door, then dry my face and hands with the towel. The whole time, I can’t look away. I’m too busy taking in his lovely features. He’s lost a little weight since I last saw him, but his jaw is freshly shaved and his mustache perfectly groomed. He must havearrived before the rain because his hair is dry, though it looks like he’s been running his fingers through it.
His long-sleeve dark purple Henley clings to his chest and biceps, and when he pivots to remove his shoes, I admire the way his jeans hug his ass. Oh how I’ve missed that ass.
“Surprise,” he finally says.
“Hi.”
“I—” He snaps his mouth shut and motions toward the main living space. “Can we sit?”
I abandon the towel on the floor and we take a seat in the corner of the L-shaped sectional, facing one another. My knee brushes his as I settle on the cushion, but neither of us pulls away.
“What are you doing here?” I ask again.
His jaw ticks a couple of times, like he’s searching for the right words.
It’s only when my lungs start burning that I realize I’m holding my breath in anticipation.
“Thank you for The Hive.” His voice is hoarse, his eyes going misty.
Devastation washes over me. “That’s why you came? To thank me for the funding?”
“Yes. But not only that,” he says, his green eyes bright. “I came to tell you that I miss you. Imore thanmiss you. Is that possible? To more than miss someone?” Though they’re faint, his dimples surface.
My heart pangs. “I more than miss you too.”
“Why’d you do it?” he asks.
“Do what?”
“Fund the expansion.”
“I did it for Bea,” I say. “For Daisy too. But mostly for Bea. She deserves to see her mother’s legacy.”
Asher’s tears overflow onto his cheeks. As much as I want to wipe them away, I resist the urge, twining my fingersin my lap. He said he misses me, but that doesn’t mean he wants us to be together.
But the way he clutches my waist and pulls me into an embrace gives me hope. He smells like pine and citrus. And home. He smells like home.
“I’m so in love with you.”
Astonished, I jerk my head back. “What?”
“That’s what I came here to tell you. That I more than miss you, and that I’m in love with you, Claire Connelly.”
Moisture blurs my vision. “But you didn’t ask me to stay.”
