I get lost in them for a minute. People always say gray is such a drab, boring color, but they're wrong. There's nothing drab or dull or boring about his eyes. They're full of warmth and curiosity, of darkness and light and secrets. The gray tells a whole story…and I think I'm finally learning to speak the language because I see so much there that I didn't expect. Pride, need, hope…longing so intense it makes me ache with the same emotion.
"Yeah," he murmurs after a minute, shaking his head as if to clear it. "I guess I do believe it."
I smile, relieved that he doesn't think I'm ridiculous. "So no, I'm not mad at her. I guess I'm just…sad."
"Why?" He leans closer, as if he can physically protect me from that emotion. Or maybe he's just trying to hear me over the music. Couples are already abandoning their food to dance.
"Because she didn't think she could tell me," I admit, swallowing hard. "She's my best friend but she thought she had to hide something this big from me. I guess I don't understand why." I told her I was leaving because I needed time to process, but I think I just needed time to be sad without hurting her feelings.
Asher wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. His lips touch my temple in a sweet kiss. "You should ask her, angel baby. You'll never know if you don't."
He's right, of course. And if I'm being honest, I think I understand a little more now about why she didn't tell me. She didn't keep the truth from me to hurt my feelings. I think, maybe, she wanted to keep the feeling all for herself for a little while. I know I do.
We tell each other everything, but this crazy, amazing thing between me and Asher…I don't want to share it yet. I want it to be just mine for a little while longer. At least until I figure out what's even happening between us and how someone can make me so happy in one breath and then make me want to strangle him in the next.
"You believe your professor?" he asks, his lips in my hair.
Sienna and Dane walk by and Sienna grins at me, giving me a thumbs up. My cheeks heat. She didn't ask me any questions about earlier, but I know she knows what we were doing in the closet. She's just too polite to make me fess up.
"I don't know," I say to Asher once she and Dane are lost in the crowd. "I want to believe that he offered because he believes in me, but I don't know." I shrug helplessly, still hesitant to trust Jared. I think all writers are protective of their work and hate to see it criticized, but that's not why I'm upset with him. "He decided without even knowing me that I needed someone to look out for me."
Asher makes a sound in the back of his throat.
"I'm a big girl." I scowl at my almost empty plate. "Okay, I'm a big girl stuck in a little body. But still. Just because he had a bad experience doesn't mean I will."
"You should tell him that."
"I did."
Asher tips my face up to his, grinning at me. "You're a fierce little thing, aren't you?"
"Maybe. I've never had a chance to find out." I square my jaw. "That's going to change though. I'm not letting people fight my battles or decide things for me anymore. I'm making my own choices."
"Like New York."
"Exactly."
I expect him to get all growly on me again, but he doesn't. He expels a heavy breath and then gives me a look that's midway between proud and miserable. "Then I think you should kick it in the ass, Kennedy," he says. "Don't ever let anyone decide what you're capable of doing."
"You tried."
He grimaces. "Not because I didn't think you're capable. You know how many men live in New York?" He eyes me sideways, his expression full of offense. "A whole fucking lot. They'll take one look at you and want you. It's going to make me crazy."
"You're already crazy, Asher."
He narrows his eyes on me which makes me laugh.
"Told you, angel baby, you made me that way."
"You make me crazy too," I confess on a whisper, hiding my eyes from him. "You're so beautiful and you say the craziest things."
"You think I'm beautiful?"
"So beautiful," I whisper. "You remind me of a storm on the coast."
He chuckles at that. "You're pretty fucking beautiful yourself, baby. Especially in that damn dress. Everyone was looking at you while we were walking down the aisle."
"No, they weren't."
"Yeah, they were," he says, shaking his head. "You were just zoned out and didn't notice."
"I was thinking!"
"About me," he says, smirking.
"Was not."
"You're a shit liar."
"Whatever," I huff and then hop to my feet and hold out a hand to him. "Come on."
"Where?"
"We're going to dance."
"You want me to dance with you?" He cocks his brow, looking at me like I've lost my mind.
"I can ask someone else if you'd like," I sass, putting a hand on my hip. We both know that isn't going to happen. Even if I did work up the nerve to follow through, he'd have a fit and put an end to it.
He's jealous of men in New York that I've never even met. There's no way he's going to let someone else dance with me when I'm wearing a dress he's deemed indecent. He's kind of possessive, which is way hotter than it should be.
I think I might be falling in love with him.
He narrows his eyes on me and curses. But, as expected, he climbs to his feet and then slips his hand into mine before leading me to the dancefloor. In his arms, I feel like a queen, capable of anything. Except resisting him.
I'm not even sure I want to try.
Shoot. I'm definitely falling in love with him.