14. Asher

The professor is droning on about something. Usually, I’m pretty engaged in these classes. I love anthropology. I mostly take business studies and shit with numbers, marketing, economics, but I have two classes that are just for me—history and anthropology. I have to take them as extras, but I don’t care. Sure, it creates more work for me, and during hockey season, it’s intense, but I love the learning, so it’s never felt like a drag.

Today, however… it does.

Because my mind is too full with other thoughts.

Thoughts of a brown-skinned beauty who hates me.

Something was off last night.

When I compare the way she acted on the dance floor, just before she escaped to the bathroom, to the slap in the face after our kiss…

I don’t know. There was fire in that slap—authority, boss-bitch vibes.

Last night, it was almost like she was scared. I didn’t think that at first. We were dancing. She seemed into it. I let my hand brush her hip, and then she took off.

I was half expecting her to storm out of the bathroom with an angry scowl and knee me in the balls for daring to touch her, but she kind of shuffled out looking sick and pale.

Caroline hovered beside her, talking a mile a minute, while Casey walked behind them looking uncomfortable as fuck. He’s never done well with emotional women. I’m much better with that kind of thing, and I moved in to say what I could, but Lani walked right past me as if I wasn’t even there.

“Lani, wait! Let me just grab my stuff!” Caroline called after her, but Lani didn’t seem to notice.

She made a beeline for the exit, and I chased after her, dodging people and making it out the door just as she was running for a car. I didn’t know who the hell was driving it, but Lani seemed to. The girl behind the wheel was nodding and waving her over. Maybe it was a friend from Huxley Hall or something.

“Lani!”

She spun around when I shouted her name, and that’s when I saw it—this wide-eyed desperation. Fear, stark and obvious.

It made me falter, and I jerked to a stop, all my words stolen by that one look.

Not that I’ve spent much time with her, but one thing I know about Leilani Iona is that she’s strong and fierce and you don’t mess with her.

But that look…

It’s not sitting right inside me.

I can’t seem to get it out of my head or let it go.

I’m becoming obsessed with wanting to make sure she never looks like that again.

Caroline raced out after us just as the car was pulling away. She let out a soft sigh, then kind of whimpered. I turned to check on her and saw tears spilling free.

“I don’t know why she’s acting like this. Why is she pushing me away?” Her voice wobbled.

“Did she say anything when she came out of the bathroom?”

Caroline shrugged. “That she wasn’t feeling well, but I don’t know if I believe her. She just keeps pushing me away. I don’t know what to do.”

I was about to run my hand down her back, offer her some comfort, but Casey came out of the bar, so I took a step away and let him do it instead. He spoke all soft and sweet, then asked if she wanted to stay the night at Hockey House.

She nodded, and they shuffled off to his beat-up Jeep while I stayed on the curb, looking down the road and wishing I’d never met Leilani.

I’m not trying to be an asshole, but she’s consuming me in ways I don’t want her to.

I couldn’t sleep last night, and it was her fault.

I can’t concentrate on this lecture, and it’s her fault.

I don’t want her eating up so much brain space. I wish I’d never offered to drive her back to Denver. I wish I’d never seen one of her smiles or felt her tongue glide against mine.

I wish I hadn’t chased her last night and called her name.

I wish I’d never seen that look on her face, because it’s fucking haunting me.

What I should be doing is staying far away from her and getting my fucking life back.

But do you think my stupid-ass brain gets the message when I walk into Java Jeans forty minutes later and spot her lining up to order?

She’s standing there in a pair of jeans that hug her fine ass perfectly. Tucked into those is a simple T-shirt with small yellow flowers peppering the fabric, and she looks a combination of sexy and cute. Which is so fucking dangerous.

Her hair is up in a top knot thing, exposing her neck and the small tattoo just beneath her hairline. It’s four spirals in the shape of a square. Obviously a symbol that’s meaningful, because Lani does not strike me as the kind of woman to get a tattoo on a whim. I wonder if it’s got to do with Hawaii or her heritage or something.

Shit, that tattoo only adds another hazard layer.

She’s way too sexy for her own good.

Or for my own good.

Fuck. Whatever! I want her with a burn so strong, I feel like my body’s about to combust.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, nearly bailing on my late-morning coffee.

But of course my fucked-up brain misses that memo, and I walk right up to her.

She flinches when I stand beside her, then lets out a derisive snort when she sees it’s me.

“Hey.” I grin.

She gives me a caustic smile, then crosses her arms and looks up at the menu board on the wall. I bet she already knows exactly what she wants, but anything not to look at me, right?

“Can I buy you a coffee?”

“No,” she clips.

“A tea?”

She glances at me like I’m weird. “No.”

“A muffin? Bagel? Slice of banana bread?”

“No, no, and ew.”

“You don’t like banana bread?” I frown.

“Bananas are gross,” she mutters.

“Okay.” I bulge my eyes. “So, what fruit do you like, then?”

She sucks in a breath as if she’s losing her patience, but then she lets out a short sigh and rattles off, “Apples, cherries, and watermelon.”

I nod. “So, can I buy you a slice of apple pie, then?”

She huffs and rolls her eyes. And I think her patience is officially up. “No. I don’t want you to buy me anything!”

We move forward in the line, and I hold my sigh in check. “Okay, fine. Maybe you can buy me something, then.”

She looks up with a horrified frown, and I can’t help a soft snicker after I wink at her.

She clicks her tongue and shakes her head.

I should seriously learn when to quit, but I’m a real dumbass sometimes.

“It’s a shame they don’t serve butter beer,” I murmur, squinting at the board like I’m willing the menu to change.

Lani’s lips twitch. “You’re not a pumpkin juice fan?”

“Ugh.” I make a face. “Seriously. Can you think of anything grosser?”

“Banana juice?”

I can’t help a soft snort, my lips breaking into a wide grin as we approach the counter.

“Yeah, hi.” Lani gives the woman a polite smile. “I’ll take a double-shot latte with oat milk, please, and he’ll have…” She points her thumb at me.

“Seriously? You’re buying me a drink?”

“Don’t look so surprised and order something,” she grits out.

It’s hard not to laugh. For some reason, this feels like a win. “Okay, then, I’ll have an Americano and an oatmeal raisin cookie, please.”

“All righty.” The server taps the computer screen. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s it. Thanks.” Lani holds her phone over the machine until it makes a payment ding and then shuffles to the end of the counter to wait for our order.

“Thanks for this.” I smile down at her, everything in me rebelling against the fact that I let her pay. Again. I’m gonna have to make it up to her at some point. I can’t keep letting this woman buy me food. And I’m not being sexist, I’m being fair. She paid for dinner on that quiz night, and it’s really my turn.

But I get the vibe that guys buying her food makes her feel weak or something. I’m seriously gonna have to sort that shit.

Leaning my elbow on the counter, I watch her put her purse back into her bag, then stand tall and try to look anywhere but at my face.

I get that she hates me, but if she really despises me that much, she wouldn’t have bought me anything, so I’m gonna go for it.

“Hey, I don’t suppose you’d want to drink your latte sitting next to me, would you?”

She gives me a little side-eye, then huffs. “Fine, as long as you don’t ask me anything about last night or if I’m okay. Because I’m fine.” She gives me a pointed look that tells me she’s lying, but… you know what, I’m gonna take what I can get.

“Deal.” I nod, then throw in another wink when she eyes me up to check that I’m being serious.

Much to my satisfaction, her lips twitch with a grin that she is failing to hide.