Chapter 19

nineteen

. . .

Sloane

I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed, scrolling aimlessly on my phone, but my mind is already on tonight. Just a game night. Just a few friends hanging out. Totally normal.

Except Brian invited Asher.

I tap out a text before I can second-guess myself.

Me: So, I’ve been informed that you’ll be attending game night tonight.

The reply comes almost immediately.

Asher: Ah, so you’re counting down the hours, huh?

I grin, biting my lip.

Me: I wouldn’t say that.

Asher: Liar. I bet you’ve been thinking about me since the moment you found out.

Me: What if I have?

The three dots appear again, and my stomach flutters.

Asher: Then I’d say you’re going to have a very hard time focusing tonight.

Me: Oh? And why’s that?

Asher: Because every time you look at me, you’re going to remember how you begged for me the other night.

Heat blooms in my cheeks, and I shift against the pillows.

Me: Maybe I’ll be thinking about how good it felt.

Asher: Good? That’s it? Sloane, you were shaking so hard I thought the neighbors were going to file a noise complaint.

I laugh softly, my pulse quickening as I type back.

Me: Okay, fine. It was better than good.

Asher: Better than anything you’ve had before.

I hesitate for half a second before replying.

Me: I’m not arguing.

His response comes quickly, as if he’s been waiting.

Asher: Damn right, you’re not. And tonight, you’re going to be sitting there, watching me, wishing we were alone again.

Me: What makes you think I’m not wishing for that already?

I grin to myself, then pull up the camera on my phone. Tilting it down, I snap a quick picture of my legs crossed in tiny, fitted shorts that ride up just enough to tease. My bare thighs gleam in the soft light of my room. I send it without a caption, my heart pounding.

His reply comes in seconds.

Asher: Fuck, Sloane. Are you trying to kill me?

Me: Just returning the favor.

The three dots appear again, then disappear. My pulse races as I wait, until finally, his next message comes in.

It’s a photo.

I tap to open it, and my breath catches. He’s in the gym, clearly mid-workout, his athletic shorts riding low on his hips. The fabric clings in all the right places, and my gaze zeroes in on the very obvious outline that has my cheeks burning.

Asher: Your move.

I bite my lip, heat pooling low in my stomach as I stare at the photo.

Me: I don’t think I can focus tonight.

Asher: Good. I don’t want you to.

Me: You’re trouble.

Asher: Yeah That’s true…but you’re saying it like you aren’t, too. Which you are.

My breath hitches as I read his words, the heat in my cheeks spreading all the way down.

Asher: Make sure you wear those tight little shorts tonight.

Me: Oh? Why’s that?

Asher: So I can watch you squirm.

Me: You’re evil.

Asher: And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

I drop my phone onto the bed, my heart racing and my body tingling with anticipation. Asher Knox is impossible. And the worst part? I don’t want him to stop.

The laughter and chaos of trivia night continue to fill the living room. Jacklyn, clipboard in hand, takes her hosting duties seriously, while Brian keeps the drinks flowing and the competitive banter alive.

Kiki and Eric are practically falling over each other with laughter as they argue over an answer, while Ted remains laser-focused on me.

Jacklyn reads the next question. “What ancient civilization is credited with inventing concrete?”

Ted leans in, ready to pounce. “Rome!”

Jacklyn raises an eyebrow. “Care to be more specific?”

Ted falters. “Uh…ancient Rome?”

“No,” I interject, unable to help myself. “It’s the Romans, specifically during the Roman Republic era. They used volcanic ash in their mix, which made it far superior to anything we had for centuries.”

The room goes quiet for a beat.

Jacklyn grins, marking a point for my team. “Correct!”

Ted’s jaw drops. “How the hell did you know that?”

I shrug, taking a sip of my drink. “I read a lot.”

From across the room, Asher chuckles softly, his eyes fixed on me. My phone buzzes on the table.

Asher: Nerd.

Me: Don’t act like you’re not impressed.

Asher: I’m more than impressed. Keep going, Sloane. Show me how that big brain of yours works.

I roll my eyes, suppressing a smile, and focus back on the game.

A few more rounds pass, and my team racks up points thanks to my random knowledge about everything from Greek mythology to obscure movie trivia.

“The square root of 144?” Brian asks, barely finishing before I answer.

“Twelve.”

“The capital of Kazakhstan?”

“Astana, formerly Nursultan,” I reply, earning a whistle from Jacklyn.

The questions keep coming, and with each answer, I can feel Asher’s gaze lingering longer.

Finally, Jacklyn pauses to shuffle the cards. “Alright, before we start the next round, does anyone need anything?”

“Oh!” I jump up, realizing we’re out of chips. “I think we have more in the pantry. Be right back.”

I head to the kitchen, but when I open the pantry door, I spot the bag of chips on the top shelf—way out of my reach. I stand on my toes, stretching as far as I can, but it’s no use.

A shadow falls over me, and I glance back to see Asher leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

“Need a hand?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

I straighten, brushing my hair out of my face. “I’ve got it.”

“You sure about that?” He steps closer, the scent of his cologne making my stomach flip.

“I—” Before I can argue, he reaches up, effortlessly grabbing the bag and holding it out.

“Here you go,” he says, his eyes locking with mine as he hands it over. His fingers brush mine, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Thanks,” I say softly, suddenly hyperaware of how close we are.

His lips curl into a smirk. “Anytime. Though if you keep wearing those shorts, I’m going to start charging for my services.”

I glare at him, but the heat in my cheeks gives me away.

“Asher,” I whisper, glancing back toward the living room.

“What?” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “We’re just being friendly. Helping each other out.”

His gaze dips briefly, and I feel my pulse race as his hand brushes against my hip, so subtle it could almost be an accident. Almost.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down to see another message from him.

Asher: You’re blushing again. You look so hot when you do

I quickly tuck the chips under my arm and spin back toward the living room, ignoring the heat pooling in my stomach. If his intent in sending me a text is to rile me up in front of everyone, I hate to admit he’s succeeding.

Back at the game, I settle into my seat, avoiding Asher’s amused expression as Jacklyn resumes the questions.

“This one’s for all the marbles!” she declares dramatically. “Which planet is the hottest in our solar system?”

Ted perks up. “The sun!”

“No,” I say quickly, unable to hold back a laugh. “The sun isn’t a planet. It’s Venus. Its atmosphere traps heat, making it hotter than Mercury even though it’s farther from the sun.”

Jacklyn claps her hands. “Correct again! Sloane is on fire tonight!”

“Seriously,” Kiki says, slurring slightly. “How do you know all this?”

Before I can answer, Asher leans back in his seat, grinning. “She’s secretly a genius. Haven’t you noticed? Just look at her.”

The room erupts into laughter, and I try to ignore the way my heart skips a beat at his words.

Brian, however, seems more interested in Asher than the trivia. His drink sloshes a little as he gestures at him. “You know, I keep forgetting you and Jacklyn dated. How long was that again?”

The room falls silent for a second, everyone’s heads snapping toward Asher. Even Jacklyn groans, muttering, “Oh, my God, Brian, let it go.”

Asher blinks, then shrugs, his expression relaxed. “I don’t know, a month? Maybe two? It wasn’t serious.”

Brian’s eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying to gauge if Asher’s being honest. “A month, huh? And you just…ended it? No drama or anything?”

“No drama,” Asher says easily, taking a sip of his drink. “Jacklyn’s a cool girl. We just weren’t a fit. I wished her well, and that was it.”

Jacklyn waves a hand dismissively. “It was freshman year, Brian. Ancient history. You seriously care about this?”

Brian hesitates, then shakes his head with a laugh. “Nah, I don’t care. Just curious, you know? You never talk about it.”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about,” Jacklyn says, rolling her eyes.

Asher grins. “Exactly. Jacklyn’s awesome. We just made better friends than anything else.”

The tension eases as Kiki and Eric start bickering over whether Venus actually counts as an easy trivia question. Jacklyn shoots Brian a look, and he holds up his hands in mock surrender, mumbling, “Just making conversation.”

Meanwhile, Asher’s gaze flicks to me, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. My phone buzzes, and I glance down.

Asher: That was awkward. But your genius trivia skills totally made up for it.

I shake my head, biting back a smile as I quickly type back.

Me: You liked those. Really.

Asher: You knowing the capital of Kazakhstan made me have to readjust myself I was getting so turned on

Me: lol yeah okay

Asher: You think I’m joking?

I look up and my heart hammers as I find Asher staring at me with a wicked expression that can’t quite be classified as a grin. He shakes his head slowly.

Asher: As obsessed as I might be with your body your brains are quite the cherry on top.

The crowd thins out as the night winds down. Kiki and Eric are the first to leave, stumbling out the door in a fit of giggles. Ted lingers for a bit, trying to convince me to exchange numbers before finally taking the hint when I tell him I’m “really not looking to date right now.”

Now it’s just Jacklyn and me, cleaning up the aftermath of trivia night—empty cups, snack bowls, and crumpled napkins scattered across every surface. Jacklyn’s unusually quiet as she loads the dishwasher, but I catch her glancing at her phone every few seconds.

“Everything okay?” I ask, tossing a handful of trash into the bin.

She sighs, shutting the dishwasher door a little harder than necessary. “Brian and I got into a tiff. Nothing major, but…he didn’t want to stay over.”

I frown. “Was he jealous?”

She hesitates, then nods. “I think so. He kept bringing up me and Asher, like it was this huge thing. Which is so stupid because it wasn’t. We barely dated. And he knows that.”

“Yeah, but you know how guys get when they’ve had a few drinks,” I say, handing her a stray wine glass.

Jacklyn groans. “I guess. Still, it was annoying. I told him to go home and sleep it off. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I nod, giving her a small smile. “He’ll be fine. He just needs to get over himself.”

“True,” she says, her mood lifting slightly. “Thanks for helping me clean, by the way. You’re the best.”

As she disappears into the kitchen, my phone buzzes on the counter. I pick it up and see Asher’s name at the top of the screen.

Asher: So…what are you doing now?

My heart skips a beat as I type back.

Me: Cleaning. You left in such a hurry.

Asher: Didn’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, I figured you’d need some space after carrying the team in trivia.

I smirk, leaning against the counter.

Me: Modest as ever.

Asher: Always. By the way, are you opting out of our agreement?

Me: What agreement?

Asher: The one where I get to kiss you whenever I want. Remember? Saturday night.

My breath catches, and I glance toward the kitchen to make sure Jacklyn isn’t nearby.

Me: You really don’t let anything slide, do you?

Asher: Not when it comes to you.

My cheeks flush as I stare at the screen, debating my next move.

Me: It’s late, Asher.

Asher: So? You’re not doing anything important.

Me: Says you.

Asher: Prove me wrong. Or better yet…don’t. Just get over here.

My stomach flips, and I fidget with the edge of the counter, glancing toward the stairs. Jacklyn would never notice if I left.

Resistance with Asher is futile. I hesitate for only a moment before typing back.

Me: Give me ten minutes.

Ten minutes later, I’m slipping into the same baggy sweatpants and hoodie I borrowed last time. The cool night air wafts through the slightly open window, and I shiver as I quietly open the front door, careful not to make a sound.

“Where are you going?”

I freeze, spinning around to see Jacklyn standing at the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed and a suspicious look on her face.

“Oh, uh…” My mind scrambles for an excuse. “I’m going to study.”

Her eyebrow arches. “At midnight?”

I clutch the doorknob, trying not to fidget. “You know me. Can’t turn off the brain.”

Her eyes narrow as she takes in my outfit, her gaze lingering on the oversized sweatpants and hoodie. “Whose clothes are those?”

I glance down, feigning nonchalance. “Just some old stuff I found in my closet.”

“They look like guy’s clothes,” she says, her tone probing.

“Baggy is comfortable,” I reply, shrugging as casually as I can manage. “You should try it sometime.”

Jacklyn’s lips press into a line, but before she can ask more questions, I grip the doorknob tighter and pull it open. “Anyway, don’t wait up. I’ll be back later.”

Her eyes follow me, a flicker of amusement mingling with suspicion. “Sure, study well.”

I flash her a quick smile and duck out before she can push further, my cheeks burning as I hurry down the block.

The walk to the frat house feels longer than it should, my heart racing with every step. When I reach the metal stairs by the side entrance, I pause, taking a deep breath before starting the climb. The clank of each step echoes in the still night.

When I reach the top, the door creaks open before I can knock. Asher stands there, leaning against the frame with that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you might chicken out,” he says softly, his voice warm and teasing.

I shake my head, butterflies swirling in my stomach. “Not tonight.”

His smirk softens, his gaze dropping to my lips before flicking back to meet mine.

“Good,” he murmurs, stepping back to let me in. “Because I’ve been waiting all night for this.”

Asher steps back to let me in, and I take a hesitant step forward, my heart pounding as the door clicks shut behind me. The dim light from his desk lamp casts soft shadows across the room, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us in the quiet stillness.

His eyes lock onto mine, dark and full of intent, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach double in intensity.

“You’re nervous,” he says softly, stepping closer.

“I’m not,” I lie, my voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk deepens, and he tilts his head, closing the distance between us until we’re almost touching. “Then why are you shaking?”

Before I can answer, his hand slides to my waist, pulling me closer, and just as his lips brush mine?—

A loud knock echoes from the door.

We both freeze.

“Asher?” a voice calls from the other side.

My stomach plummets as I recognize it.