I shrug. "It's small. We're not exactly an empire."
"Yet," he says, but there's something in his voice that makes it sound like it could be. That's nice, but maybe a bit presumptuous. But maybe it’s just how wealthy people view the world. Everything is like the game of Monopoly.
Small talk with Asher isn't small at all. He asks a ton of questions and the wait for the food passes in a blink. When it comes, we dig in. I can tell by the smell it’s going to be amazing, and I’m proven right. The pad thai is perfect. The curry is exactly the right amount of spicy. The Thai iced tea is sweet and cold and exactly what I didn't know I wanted.
"Okay," I admit. "You were right."
His smile is smug. "I usually am."
"Wow. What a very humble thing to say," I tease.
"I'm working on it."
I laugh despite myself, and we fall into easier conversation. His favorite books. My favorite movies. The weirdest thing either of us has ever eaten. It's light. Fun. The kind of first-date talk that doesn't require vulnerability.
But I notice how he leans forward when I talk, like every word matters, and how he touches my hand across the table, casual and constant. Like he's trying to form a connection. And I think I like it.
The night air is cool as he helps me from his car in the parking lot of my building. We stand and stare at each other for a moment. "Julie," he says.
That's all. Just my name. Then he kisses me.
And for a moment, I let myself feel it. The warmth of his mouth. The gentle pressure of his hands on my waist. The way he kisses like he's been thinking about it all night. Then reality crashes back in. I pull back, breathless.
"Wait," I say.
His hands drop immediately. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I just—" I take a half step back, needing the space to think. "This is moving really fast."
"Is it?" He asks.
"Um, yes. That's just a fact. We met this morning."
"We did."
I laugh, but it sounds nervous even to my own ears. "And you're already introducing me to your best friend and kissing me in parking lots."
His mouth curves. "When you say it like that, it sounds bad."
"Does it not sound crazy to you?"
He studies me for a moment, then leans back against his car. "It sounds fast. But not crazy."
"Asher—"
"Let me come upstairs," he says quietly.
Everything in me goes still. Oh, warning sign. I see you.
"Absolutely not." The words come out firmer than I expected.
He blinks. "No?"
"No. I had a great time. But I don't know you. And you don't know me. And this—" I gesture between us. "This feels like the part where I ignore every red flag because a hot guy with a Porsche and perfect timing says all the right things."
Something flickers across his face. Surprise mixed with disappointment and something else. "That’s…wise," he says after a moment.
“I can tell you're not the kind of guy who hears 'no' very often."
