Chapter Seven - Asher
Asher
Whoops.
Honestly, I was just trying to make the guy let her go and it slipped over my lips before I knew it. Like a reflex. Now it’s too late to take back.
And Kayla is pissed.
Yes, I enjoy riling people up, but now I’m actually fearing for my life, because the way she’s glaring at me? I’ll probably have a knife in my neck within twenty-four hours.
As soon as the word ”girlfriend” leaves my mouth, the voices around us amplify until I can”t even hear my own thoughts anymore, and Kayla glares at me with such an intensity, such hatred burning in her eyes that I”m afraid I’ll drop to the ground, dead. Even though we worked our way to ‘cordial’ throughout the dinner, all that progress is gone now.
Oh well. What’s done is done.
I sling my arm over her shoulder and pull her with me to the car, keeping her out of reach from more grabby hands. Her muscles are so tense under my arm, like she”s about to explode.
Walking by the rest of the crowd, I wave at the people and grin. Now that this is happening, I might as well have fun with it. And if this is my last day on earth before she kills me, that’s just one more reason to enjoy myself.
I’m sure she’ll get there eventually.
I shield her from the crowd’s sight with my body as she climbs into the passenger seat, before I close her door and round the car to jump into the driver”s seat.
Her eyes burn a hole into the side of my face once I sit and buckle myself in.
”What the fuck, Asher?” she hisses, keeping her face schooled as people can still look into the car from the front. But I can see her fingers tremble in exasperation, hear her heavy breaths as she tries to calm herself down and failing spectacularly. “Didn”t we say only three goddamn minutes before we stepped outside that we would present this as co-workers making up?”
The aggravation in her voice sends makes my blood run cold and sends a shiver down my spine.
”I’m sorry, it just slipped out.” I start the car and sigh when security has to pull a guy back who attempts to jump in front of the hood to capture one last shot of the two of us in the car. ”But look at it like this: It”s definitely bound to distract everyone from Luca and Millie.”
”That might be the case, but I still didn”t fucking sign up for this.” She pinches the bridge of her nose and sinks further into her seat, a heavy sigh leaving her as she closes her eyes.
”Come on, we can have some fun with it.”
”What about this is fun?” she hisses, anger making her voice cut through the air like a freshly sharpened knife. ”I meant what I said before. I can let the whole interview thing be water under the bridge, but I have no, let me repeat that, no goddamn urge to waste my energy on you.”
I flinch. Ouch. I guess I had that coming, though.
”Well, don”t do it for me, do it for Millie,” I propose and oh boy, was that the wrong thing to say.
”Millie is the only goddamn reason I answered your text to begin with. Trust me, if it wasn’t for her, I would not be here.” An annoyed sound comes from the very back of her throat as she buries her hands in her hair, and I see her blinking rapidly from the corner of my eyes. ”Please just take me home.”
I turn my head to take a quick look at her, worried. She went from angry as fuck to eerily quiet within a matter of seconds. Without waiting for an answer, she reaches to the console and starts typing her address into the navigation system when we come to a stand at a traffic light.
For the rest of the ride, she”s completely silent, her arms crossed in front of her chest and facing the window to watch the city fly past us through my tinted windows.
An uneasy feeling makes my stomach tingle and my throat itch. Maybe I went too far. Maybe.
Then again, I couldn”t just watch some random man grab for her and just . . . do nothing. That”s just not happening, so I’m absolutely not apologizing for getting her away from that guy.
The car announces that her house is coming up to our right and I whistle lowly when I catch a look at the skyscraper, and another one when I make the car come to a stand in the parking bay. It looks really damn luxurious inside, at least what I can see from here.
”Bye,” she mutters when I put the car into ‘park’ and jumps outside, slamming the door behind her without waiting for an answer.
I stay where I am and watch her. She walks like a storm, her hair flying up and down with each step, people scurrying to make way for her as she approaches the entrance with confidence.
She stops right next to the security guard and has a short conversation with him, her expression finally softening.
And when she glares into my general direction, I take that as a hint to leave. So much for chivalry and waiting for the woman to reach her front door. Then again, I guess she made it safely to the door guard, so I’m sure she’s going to be alright.
”Why didn”t you tell us?”
My phone started ringing the second I opened my apartment door, and when I saw my mother’s name flash up on the screen, I knew I wasn”t getting out of answering it.
Actually, I’m surprised it took her this long to call. I was expecting it in the restaurant already.
So I accept her call, right as the door falls shut behind me.
”Since when do you have a girlfriend?” she demands as I set down my keys on the dresser by my front door and shuck off my shoes, kicking them into a corner.
”It”s all still pretty new,” I tell her, doing my best not to lie and sound remorseful, grimacing as I walk into my living room. I hate lying to her, even if it’s by omission or lightly twisting the truth.
Then again, I’m hoping for Kayla to just play along and make it feel like a bit less of a lie.
The ball is in her court now. She could release a statement denying everything, which would probably lead to making me the butt of media jokes. Or we keep this charade up and distract the media from our best friends actually dating.
But wait. My mother doesn’t even use her phone for anything but calls and it’s way too early for the pictures to have hit any kind of magazine that she would read.
”How did you know about Kayla?”
”Because I have people with cameras lingering in front of the store and asking me if I met her,” my mom says dryly, and I rub my hand over my forehead, pulling the skin between my eyebrows with my fingers.
Fuck. I did not think about that. ”At first I was a bit angry and didn’t know what they want from me. Janette filled me in, and I had to research who she is. She”s so pretty and talented. But I guess you know that.”
”Of course,” I say, again flinching at the lie. I mean, yes, she”s pretty, but I haven”t really seen her in action yet; I don”t know if she”s talented. If Mom says so, I guess it”s true, though. And I know I’ll never hear the end of her learning about my supposed girlfriend from the student who works at her shop. ”I”m sorry about the paparazzi. I”ll let Van know to send over security.”
”No worries, darling, your daddy”s got it handled.”
Disgust paints my face at the ”d” word and I only barely suppress a retch.
”Do you really have to call him that?” We”ve had this exchange countless times already, at this point it”s just the two of us teasing each other when it comes up.
”Shush. So anyway, tell me more about her.”
”As I said, it”s pretty new.”
I always tend to forget that my mother is the master of uncomfortable silence. When she wants information from you, she will remain quiet until the silence becomes so awkward you tell her everything she wants to know in an attempt to fill it. I’m not getting out of this conversation. ”She”s fierce. Very headstrong.”
”Ah, she sounds like a handful. Just what I always pictured for you.” I can hear the untold ”Not like Abby.” My mother really didn”t like my ex-girlfriend, not that she ever said it to her face. But she found her too agreeable, too nice.
Honestly, I think she is going to love Kayla. The other way around, I’m not very sure. I don’t know her well enough to judge that yet.
”You should bring her to your father’s celebration dinner after the match,” Mom continues and I pick at the skin of my thumb.
Maybe this whole thing was a dumb idea after all.
”We”ll see, Mom. It”s still so new. Maybe it won’t even last until the match is over.”
”Listen, if I have to deal with the shitshow in front of my store, the least you can do is make sure she comes to that godawful boring dinner. I insist. And if you break up before then, I still insist. Now, I need to go, I think the security team is here; there”s a commotion outside. Love you, darling. See you soon.”
”See you soon, Mom,” I mutter, but the call disconnects before my first word and I slowly lower my arm.
This became a lot more serious a whole damn quicker than I thought.
Then again, I should have seen it coming. I don”t live under a rock. I know about the media frenzy around the Sirens. We haven’t been at events together but word travels fast in the industry. And hell, today I experienced it firsthand.
But my parents?
I can’t believe the paparazzi turned up on my mom’s doorstep. That”s such a stretch and they got there so quickly.
Did they really think we”d leave the restaurant to go straight to my mother’s flower shop?
I don’t get it. Why would they pester her with questions about Kayla the minute we are seen together for the first time? There’s just no way that makes any sense.
Either way, the whole situation is as chaotic as it could have gotten. Thanks to me, of course. I know that. I can”t believe that my parents now actually want to meet her. What a clusterfuck.
I lift my phone again and quickly pull up my chat with Kayla.
Asher: Sorry. I really didn”t mean for it to escalate like this.
I sigh and head to my kitchen, opening a cold bottle of water and drinking it in one go. All this chaos is making me thirsty. I grab a second one as I make my way to the living room, when my phone buzzes with her message.
”Actress”: Have you seen what they”re actually writing??
Asher: Matter of fact, no idea.
She sends me a few screenshots of online articles.
”Meet America”s Dream Couple”.
”King and Queen of Entertainment Industry now dating!”
All of them have a picture of me holding her hand as I pull her after me as we arrived at Fantasia.
Then there are screenshots of posts from her fans who have reposted a video of me towering behind her as the guy put his hand on her.
”I can”t believe it those two are so fucking cute together.”
”Finally she found someone who will treat her right!”
”Oh my God are you serious?? These two have to be end game. LOOK AT THEM IT’S FINALLY A BOYFRIEND WHO’S TALLER THAN HER!”
I gulp. That’s nice and everything, but what exactly are these screenshots supposed to tell me?
Asher: So what”s the verdict?
Not more than a second passes until the three little dots appear to indicate she’s typing.
”Actress”: What do you mean verdict? Didn”t you, like, make the decision? This is not a situation I can just ”whoops” my way out of now, Asshat!
I chuckle when I read the way she curses me out. Asshat. It almost rhymes with my name.
Asher: I’m sorry. Btw my parents want to meet you.
”Actress”: . . .
I just know that if she were standing in front of me, I would get a glare that would make me shrink into myself. No more ”he”s taller than her”, I”d be half my current size, squirming under her furious gaze.
Why does that sound kind of hot, though?
My phone starts buzzing in my hand and I roll my shoulders in an attempt to shake off that last thought.
”Hello, Sweetheart.”
”Don”t fucking ”Sweetheart” me.” Kayla sighs the most annoyed sounding sigh I’ve ever heard, and I hear her walk up and down her room. ”Have you talked to your manager? Does anyone know this isn’t real?”
”No, I haven”t talked to Van yet,” I say and start doing the same, beginning to walk circles around my couch. I can’t say it helps me concentrate, but it’s kind of fun. ”Should I?”
”Not yet, please.” She sounds distracted and exhausted. Guilt begins gnawing at me. ”So, I guess we”re not getting out of this.” It”s not a question, it”s a statement. And she”s right.
”I fear not.”
”Come over tomorrow evening,” she demands, accompanied by another heavy sigh. ”If we do this, we need to make up some rules. And set a deadline, because I”m certainly not doing this any longer than I need to. Not a word to Luca or Millie, though. If Millie knows I’m fake-dating for her, she won”t have it and then this will be for nothing.”
”Alright,” I tell her and stop in my tracks, laying my head back and breathing out a relieved sigh while my eyes dance over the ceiling. ”We also need a story of how we met and everything. I actually wasn”t joking when I said my parents want to meet you.”
”Fuck,” she groans, making me chuckle. ”I was hoping you were. This is going to be a fucking disaster.”
”My parents aren”t that bad, I promise.” I can’t help but chuckle.
”Well, I”m bad with parents,” she answers snippily, and I freeze. God, it seems like with her I”m putting my foot in my mouth with each word I speak. ”I”ll let you know when I”m off tomorrow. Millie”s here now, I”ll text you later.”
And then the line is dead.
Rules, she says. What kind of rules do you even have in a fake relationship?
I take out my phone to research, but the only thing popping up are romance novels.
Can”t someone just give me a quick synopsis? Some kind of manual for this type of thing if it’s apparently to common in fictional stories?
I”ll have another look later. If Millie has arrived, Luca should also be here soon, and I’m very curious about what the two of them did before we arrived and after we left.
So I grab my keys from the dresser and leave my apartment only wearing socks, planting myself right in front of Luca”s door and pushing all thoughts about Kayla and this stupid situation aside.
We”ll talk tomorrow. Until then, I will put on a happy face and tease my best friend about his new beau.
Why am I suddenly so nervous?
I”m standing in front of the skyscraper housing Millie”s and Kayla”s apartment, looking up the fancy glass front, a bouquet in my one hand, pizza in the other. I figured, since this whole situation is kind of, well, actually completely my fault, I”d try to lift her mood with some flowers and food.
Women like that, right?
My mom was all too happy to throw a bouquet together. Going off my description of her, she made it in fiery colors, laughing as she explained to me that the orange lilies she used, while inappropriate for a wedding for their hateful meaning, can also mean passion.
It’s a bit mean considering I’m the one who threw the first stone, but I figured that”s a nice, subtle dig at her to include. And she won’t even know it.
Who would have thought that I”d get into Victorian flower language?
I made her exchange the deep red roses for peachy and yellow ones, though; those just seemed too romantic. I don”t want Kayla to get a wrong idea.
Even my clueless ass knows they stand for something sincere, and apparently, that’s where I draw the line.
Kayla intrigues me, I know that much by now. At times she seems to be an open book, other times she seems like she”d catch your fingers between her pages and cut off circulation until they fall off. And I want to pry her open. Browse through all of her pages, chapter by chapter, until I understand her.
She”s headstrong and sure of herself, yet as she stormed out of the car, she seemed anything but. Annoyance and anger aside, she seemed . . . lost.
I don”t know how better to describe it. She might have seemed confident to an outsider, but to me, she looked like the ground had just disappeared under her feet. It made me want to keep her, take her back to my place with me until she felt better again.
I tell the woman at the front desk my name and she lets me right through, even calling the elevator for me with a little console on her desk.
The pizza and flowers are grounding weights in my hands as the elevator climbs higher and higher, so fast I get a bit dizzy, until it comes to a stand on the second highest floor.
”Over here,” I hear her soft voice just as I step out of the metal box.
Kayla is standing in her doorframe, wearing cotton jogging pants and a tank top and I let my eyes wander over her, just for a fraction of a second.
Something is different about her today.
”Hi,” I say awkwardly and step closer. Do I greet her with a hug? Handshake? Well, that might prove difficult with all that stuff in my hands, so we stand awkwardly in front of each other.
Kayla eyes the contents of my hands curiously, then wordlessly steps aside to let me in.
”These are for you,” I say and hand her the bouquet. Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead and disappear behind her bangs as she accepts them. ”And my mom says ”hi”. She made this one and hopes you like it.”
”That”s lovely of her,” Kayla murmurs, clearly confused, and turns around, leaving me standing in her entrance hall as she presumably searches for something to put them into. I toe out of my shoes and walk to where she disappeared around a corner, setting down the pizza on the kitchen counter as I watch her.
I can”t put my finger on it, but something about her seems different.
”The internet said you like spinach on your pizza so that”s what I got you,” I tell her and open the boxes, a heavenly aroma of tomato sauce and cheese hitting my nostrils. ”Hope that’s okay.”
”It”s one of the few things the internet got right about me.” She”s basically talking to the bouquet as she situates it in a big glass. ”Thank you.”
”You”re welcome.” I get up and randomly open her cupboards, looking for plates and cutlery.
But when I turn around, she has her butt perched on one of the barstools of her kitchen counter and is already digging into the pizza, a piece in one her hand, the other hand held under her chin to catch any pieces that fall down.
”What?” she asks with a full mouth when she catches me staring at her with a grin.
”Nothing.” I swallow a chuckle and shake my head at her as I take two glasses out of her cupboard.
This is . . . different from the times we’ve met before. There’s no open hostility. Yet. She seems much more relaxed about everything, meanwhile today I’m the one who’s a bit on edge.
“What do you want?” I hold the glasses up and raise my eyebrow.
”Just some tap water, please. But there”s lemonade in the fridge if you want some.”
”Tap water”s fine.” I fill the glasses up and return to the counter where she”s already gulfing down her second piece of pizza. God, that woman. Surprising me again and again.
I eye her, tilting my head as I try to find out what about her has changed. It’s like doing a ‘find the difference’ puzzle, but it’s bugging me.
Then it finally hits me.
”Your hair is wavy.”
She looks at me with an expression that says ”what the fuck?” and continues eating, only moving her eyes my way until she swallows her bite.
”No shit, Sherlock. You only realized now?” But the smile tugging at the corner of her lips tells me she finds it amusing. “I’m also wearing glasses.” My eyes grow wide. “Just in case you’re wondering what else is different.”
”Right. Sorry, I”m obviously not the best at noticing details.” I chuckle, and she subtly shakes her head at me, a string of cheese connecting her mouth to the pizza. She pulls it with her fingers until it tears.
Both of it suits her. The wavy hair makes her look younger, less strict and mature and the glasses frame her face beautifully, although I’m not a fan of the way they hide her caramel eyes.
I open the other box and finally start eating my pepperoni pizza. The delicious scent almost made me rear-end another car on the way here and I groan when I finally dig my teeth into the first piece. Fucking finally.
We eat in silence, and I use the moments of quiet to take in her flat. It”s just as clean, just as magazine-ready as Luca”s.
Only his is obviously designed for a bachelor single man, and hers looks like it came out of a magazine for women”s interior design. Thank God mine feels more lived in.
”Thanks for the pizza,” she finally says after swallowing down her last bite, then drinks her glass of water in one go. ”Now to the rules.”
I jump up after finishing my last bite and start pacing up and down her kitchen, her eyes following me curiously.
“I”m not doing this any longer than three months,” she declares and leans back in her seat so far, I’m a bit scared of the chair toppling over, rubbing her hand over her full stomach and looking at her ceiling.
”That”s fine. I need you to attend the celebration after the charity match with me and then maybe another week so it doesn’t seem like that was our reason for breaking up.” She slowly lowers her head and looks at me with eyebrows scrunched together curiously.
”Why?”
”Remember how I told you my parents wanted to meet you?” She nods. “They”re hosting the sponsor celebration dinner after the match and want me to bring you as my plus one.” Her eyes grow wide, and I chuckle. ”Wait, you don”t know who my dad is?”
”No idea,” she says, shaking her head. Then she raises her eyebrow, and a grin spreads on her face. “Who’s your daddy, Asher?”
I shudder visibly, making her giggle. ”Ever heard of Waveworks?”
”You mean the biggest sponsor of the charity match?” Her eyebrow lifts and disappears in her bangs, then both of her eyes grow wide as she connects the dots. ”Shut up. Your dad works for them?”
”Yeah. He”s the CEO.” Her eyes almost bulge out of her head, and she mumbles a ‘what the fuck’ under her breath. ”So, you”re coming?”
”I guess so.” She leans back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest and her eyes dancing over my face, without a doubt trying to see the resemblance to my dad. ”What else?”
”I want exclusivity.” I cross my arms in front of my chest as well.
It”s not a question, it’s a demand. I won”t have one of us meet up with others and either of us be painted as a cheater.
She looks at me without discernible expression, tilting her head as she thinks. Then, with a sigh, she takes out her phone, her fingers flying over the screen, eyebrows scrunched together, before she sets it down again with the screen facing the tabletop.
”Alright.”
”Wait, who did you message?” I”m not sure why, but her nonchalance combined with just silently messaging someone is making my blood boil. Who the fuck did she just message?
She tilts her head and raises her eyebrow at me. ”None of your business.”
”Do you have a boyfriend?” Because if we”re actually the ones ”cheating,” I”m probably losing my fucking mind. ”Because that would be my business.”
”No, I don’t. I just had to let my fuck buddy know that we have to take a break.”