5. Asher
5
Asher
“Are you hungry?”
By the time we leave the theater, the sun is heading past the horizon. Didn’t realize how long the movie was supposed to be. Honestly, I lost track of the time thanks to this woman preoccupying my thoughts throughout the entirety of it.
While trying to ensure she was having a good time, I lost focus on the entertainment aspect of our outing. The movie was so bad that it was actually good. She enjoyed herself, didn’t she? For half of the film, she looked like something was eating at her.
Penelope gives me this tight smile as she shakes her head, and just like that, I know something is wrong.
Did she not like the movie? Did the popcorn hurt her stomach? Damn, what went wrong?
“We probably shouldn’t stay out much longer. It’s getting late.” She’s hesitant about it, but soon she slides her arm through mine. This is nothing odd with how she normally clings to me, but something feels different.
I hate not understanding something. Why does this feel different?
Not wanting to linger on what’s wrong, I nod my head and give her what she wants. She’s not hungry, so she gives me directions on where to drive, insisting that she can get her car later.
Telling myself that she wants to extend our time together, I’m all for it and don’t think to question her intentions. Hell, I assume it’s because she doesn’t want to drive because of the gentle layer of snow cascading from above. I’m tempted to tease her for it, but the words stay on my tongue when I catch her squirming against her seat.
Taking her home, I get a good look at the complex she’s staying in. The darkness helps hide most of it away, but it’s not a terrible joint. While it might not look too bad on the outside, Penelope has had no issue complaining about how much she dislikes living here.
I think her hatred comes more from her neighbors than from the building itself. I don’t think I know a single person who enjoys living in a complex. Hell, my neighbors are so quiet that sometimes I forget there’s life in the houses surrounding mine.
If she’d let me, I wouldn’t think twice about whisking this woman away and letting her stay at my side. I think she’d like it. Even more, I’m willing to bet she wouldn’t be able to think of a single complaint.
Once we’re parked, she fumbles with her seat belt. Her fingers have a little tremble to them. Is it eagerness, or are her nerves getting the best of her? This is the first time she’s brought me here. Hell, I’m feeling a little nervous, too.
Getting out of the truck, I hear her asking why before I shut the door behind me.
There’s no way in hell I’m not going to walk her to her door. Even if she sees this as a friendly outing, I’m treating it like what I want it to be. A date. I’m secretly hoping she’ll realize we can share nights like this every day of the week if she could just see me as a potential option.
Right now, she doesn’t look like she wants to see me as anything. From the way her brows pinch together, she looks unhappy.
Did I do something wrong? The drive was quiet. Though, I think we were both lost in our thoughts.
I’ve never had to try to woo a woman before. Normally, they come my way without any effort and melt in the palm of my hand. With Penelope, I’ve always fought the urge to chase after her. Now that I can , I feel like a newborn calf on wobbly feet. If I take one wrong step, I’ll crash down and look like a fool.
I’m not good at this. Seeing as I didn’t think I could fuck up the very first date, this woman easily humbles me. I’m no longer the man I used to be. I should’ve known better.
Unsure of what’s upsetting her, it’s difficult to know how to begin fixing it. Where do I even start?
As she bites down on her lip and leads me to her apartment, I follow close behind. Her place isn’t too far from the parking lot. From the way she shivers as white puffs of air leave her lips, I’m all but ready to shove her inside her home so she can warm back up.
However, she doesn’t dig out her keys. Instead, she stares at the door.
“Did you forget your keys at work?” I joke, hoping that isn’t the case. Then again, I’d have the excuse to let her stay the night at my place or extend this by driving back to that drive-in.
She remains silent. In just two seconds, she turns to face me. The uncertainty has vanished. The distant gaze in her eyes is now focused. A look of determination emerges on her face as if she’s resolved something I can’t even grasp.
“Pen?” Barely getting her name out, I watch the way she steps forward. For a moment, I can’t think. Hell, I can barely register what she’s doing before her fingers are grazing my cheeks as she stretches to reach me.
She’s short—she’s always been short—which makes looking at her without being noticed easy. It’s always been a tick on my list of things I love about her.
I’m being an ass by not bending down, but I can’t. I can’t.
I can’t do anything. Not when she’s looking up at me with those wide eyes while pursing those plump lips together. The same lips I’ve fantasized about kissing over and over in my head more times than I can count.
When Penelope realizes how useless I am, she stands up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. It’s hardly a brush, and her lips tremble.
She’s nervous. Why is she nervous?
It’s because I’m not kissing her back.
The air is still. Everyone is either sleeping in the complex, or they share an understanding not to disrupt this moment between us.
Snow crunches beneath my boots as I remember how to use my limbs. The moment she puts an inch between our lips, I’m swooping down for more.
The gasp that leaves her lips when I wrap an arm around her frame to pull her flush against my body is delicious, and I don’t think twice about devouring the sound.
A minute ago, thanks to these cold temperatures, I was freezing. Not anymore. Not when the fire in my chest is growing like someone sprayed gasoline everywhere. Penelope was the match needed to set me ablaze.
Mine .
One word is all it takes to solidify my feelings. This woman is the only one for me; my heart belongs solely to her.
I want to marry her and give her whatever she wants. A kid, for starters. Pen’s always wanted to be a mother.
Look at me planning the future. I should stop before I’m ahead of myself.
It’s hard to do when she’s double-fisting my shirt and keeping me pulled close to her.
The sound she creates when my tongue slides past her eager lips is one that can make a sane man go mad. A low whine that shoots straight to my cock and leaves it pressing against the zipper of my fly. The ache is one worth feeling even more when she lets out a sigh of relief next.
She tastes so fucking sweet and salty from all that popcorn.
I don’t know when I bury my fingers in her hair, but once I realize where they are, I’m tipping her head back to kiss her deeper.
Oxygen is less important than getting my fill in.
She’s the one who has to pull away. Even when she releases her hold, I can sense the reluctance. Staring up at me in a daze, her smile is slanted, and she even giggles to double the blow. One lick to her lips is a tease I’m not ready for.
When she digs out her keys, I watch her struggle to shove it into the knob. Drunk on happiness, it’s a sight I haven’t seen her experience in what has felt like ages.
“Would you like to come inside?”
We both know what will happen if I say yes. Hell, I’m surprised I have the strength to stop myself from lifting her up and carrying her past the entrance. I’m in a state where I’m ready to dry hump her against the fucking door, just to get a little relief.
We’d ignore the importance of sleep.
Instead of caving, I put my desires on the side.
I won’t have her think that I just want her for her body. I’m in this to see it through to the end. Should give her the night to make sure she won’t regret making my year with a single kiss.
“Not tonight.” Reaching forward, I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Now that we’ve crossed a line, I want to keep touching her however I can. She’ll let me, won’t she?
Giving her a small smile to reassure the doubt clouding behind her eyes, I lean down and test my strength by stealing one more kiss from her plump lips. This one is chaste and hardly fulfilling. Especially with the open door silently inviting me inside.
“You should get your rest.” One more kiss to the top of her head is enough to give me the strength to pull away. “Goodnight, Pen. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
Clutching the knob, she nods slowly. Her cheeks are so pink, and it remains a blow to my chest.
“Goodnight, Asher.”
With that, I barely feel each step toward my truck. I don’t leave the complex until I see her slip inside her home.
Cursing softly under my breath, I groan at the realization that I still taste her on my tongue.
My poor cock needs attention. Throbbing, this is nothing but revenge for ending tonight together.
I want Penelope to know I love her before she invites me inside.
With that, I force myself to turn my truck back on and head back home to my empty bed, where I plan on recalling every second of our kiss. I swear to myself that tonight will be the last time I’m left to rely on my hand and the fantasies to get me through this rough state.
Tomorrow, I’m going to lay out my feelings. If she’s willing to return them, I’m going to buy a ring. Fuck waiting.
I waited seven years too long to get a chance like this. It’s not one I am willing to let slip between my fingers.
* * *
My lips press together in a firm line as I stare at the rows of colorful blossoming flowers, vibrant hues of red, yellow, and violet merging into a stunning palette. Each flower, from delicate daisies to radiant roses, has its own unique fragrance, blending to create an intoxicating aroma that fills the air of the charming little flower shop.
Never in my life have I thought I’d be stressing about how to win a woman over. Let alone the woman I’ve loved for as long as I have Penelope.
Despite having kissed her, something I’m still struggling to believe truly happened or not, I’m fretting over what dozen flowers I should get for her.
It’s Valentine’s Day, the best day to confess. The timing couldn’t have been possibly better. What better excuse do I have to get her a gift and let everything I’ve been holding onto out?
If she thinks I’m the man I used to be when we were younger, then I’ll prove her otherwise.
While I know Where Hope Blossoms deserves to be busy because of the holiday, I don’t enjoy the constant brush of bodies moving about as everyone else has an easier time picking their selection.
Scratching my bearded cheek, I consider asking for help. Maybe a push in the right direction. Instead, I continue staring until I notice some mixed assortments. Can’t go wrong with this selection.
Unless Penelope actually hates flowers, or she has allergies, or something else to imply how terrible my luck is.
No. Danny used to surprise her with them every few months, always with a dozen roses wrapped in loud plastic.
I look at my arrangement, and my nose scrunches.
No roses in sight.
As bad of a friend as it’ll make me sound, I don’t want Pen to think about Danny. I only want her to see me.
So, fuck roses. She’s going to get a mix because she doesn’t deserve to settle with one kind of flower. I’ll buy her every kind I see.
It’s only one step in the direction of showing her how special she is.
Even if I’m no good at this stuff, I have to start somewhere. Unlike the outcome of our questionable first date, I’m going to nail this one.