Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NAT
“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Asher said.
To be fair, it had gone exactly as I had expected it to. The entire table had stared at me in shock for several seconds before erupting in chaos. My sisters certainly weren’t going to be actresses anytime soon, but thankfully, my parents and Gran had been so preoccupied with the news that they hadn’t paid a lick of attention to my sisters’ abysmal acting skills.
While it wasn’t a big deal—and certainly not my first rodeo in lying to my daddy—I didn’t like doing it to my mom. And I absolutely hated that I was lying to Gran. Though from the way her eyes had stayed locked on Asher and me through the meal, I wasn’t so sure we’d gotten anything past the older woman.
“Ya think?” I said before sliding into bed.
He snorted, pulling off his T-shirt before tossing it into the laundry basket along with his sweatpants. It was the same move he’d done every night, but it hadn’t stopped my mouth from going dry. I’d started keeping a goddamn water bottle next to the bed because of it.
“Saw it all comin’, did you?” he said.
“Pretty much called everything.” I started ticking off the items on my fingers. “Momma cried. Daddy’s face turned tomato red like it usually does. And Gran wanted to know if there’d be an open bar.”
Asher pulled the covers back and slipped into bed, turning off the lamp and plunging the room into darkness. “I thought the actual marriage would be the shock. But apparently not havin’ a reception is a far greater crime.”
I turned on my side to face him. It was dark enough that I couldn’t make him out, but I somehow knew exactly how far away he was, the air seeming to crackle between us. “It was pretty funny when Rory realized that, had this actually been a surprise, she would’ve been equally as put out as Momma and Daddy, so she had to get in on it, too.”
“I guess the big question is, did we pull this off?” he asked, his voice just a whisper in the room.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. Momma reads enough romance novels that she’ll buy into this hook, line, and sinker—lifelong best friends finally see the error of their ways and fall for each other, only to get swept up in a whirlwind romance and want to get married?”
“So that’s the story we’re goin’ with?”
“It’s the most believable, isn’t it?”
“I’m surprised they let me drag you away. I thought your momma was gonna have a coronary over us seein’ each other tonight before the big day tomorrow.”
“June and Owen are pretty great—and I’d think this anyway—but I especially love them for now givin’ me an excuse to escape my parents.”
It was quiet for several moments, and I wondered if Asher had fallen asleep mid-conversation, like he’d done dozens of times when we’d been teens sneaking off to sleep in the tree house. My daddy had built it for far less nefarious purposes.
Well, my parents had thought my use of it was nefarious—me and my two male best friends, sleeping over, me wanting to do what all of my other friends got to do. What my sisters got to do. Namely, have sleepovers with my best friends. But because those best friends happened to have one very important appendage, it was expressly forbidden.
I didn’t do well with forbidden anything. So, I would give the excuse that I was staying at someone else’s house, pack up my shit, and march to the tree house right on our property. Thank God the estate was big enough that my parents were none the wiser.
Nash had always been the first to fall asleep, no doubt thanks to his after-school job of manual labor working for his family’s construction company. That meant Asher and I had whispered long into the night, until suddenly it was just me talking to myself as Asher’s soft, barely there snores greeted my ears.
“Are you asleep?” I whispered, my words hardly a breath.
The sheets rustled, and suddenly, his arm was around me, pressing against my lower back and tugging me into him.
He lifted his head from the pillow and buried it in my neck, squeezing me tight. “Thank you, Nattie.”
Automatically, my arms went around him, and I forced myself to pay attention to his words and not the way the length of his body fit against mine. How the tips of my breasts brushed against his chest through only the thin cotton of my tank top. How I suddenly, though I’d never been one to shy away from showing my body and had frequently walked around in nothing more than panties and bra, somehow felt that the boy shorts and cami I wore weren’t nearly enough. I might as well have been naked for the way my body responded.
“You don’t need to thank me,” I said, running my hand down the bare expanse of his back, ignoring the tiny zings of electricity at our skin-to-skin contact. “This is all part of the best friend gig, right?”
“It’s not, and you know it. I just…I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t know what I’d do without them , and you’re makin’ sure I don’t have to.”
I wasn’t sure how long we lay like that, both of us sharing my pillow. His breaths swept across my breasts, peaking my nipples even more than they had been before.
But this was fine. No big deal. I’d felt attraction to men before and hadn’t acted on it. True, those men weren’t my best friend who I was around all the time. They also weren’t my current bed partner, so it had been a little bit easier to avoid the temptation. But all those things combined didn’t even hold a quarter of the weight of what was about to be true tomorrow.
Because, come four o’clock, I was about to be Mrs. McCoy. And this man I was suddenly attracted to—an attraction I couldn’t act on—was about to be my husband.