28. Ashlie
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ASHLIE
Hunter
Still on for lunch today?
Me
Can’t. Short staffed.
Hunter
You’re not taking a lunch break?
Me
No, Hunter.
T he “Day after New Year’s” sale left the Fit4U building a disaster. I had the day off, but the employees who worked didn’t bother to reset the store before closing last night. When I walked in this morning, it looked like someone had robbed the place. Disheveled clothing racks. Hangers scattered across the orange vinyl floor. Supplements peppered around the store. I’m really starting to hate it here .
Olivia called in “sick,” so Hannah and I have been rushing around all morning trying to do two days’ worth of store prep in a few hours. Exhausted is an understatement. Everything is in shambles today, mimicking exactly how I feel inside.
And now, Hunter wants to have our standing lunch appointment like this past weekend wasn’t a completely shitty way to blow up our friendship. Like everything can go back to normal. The things he confessed, the conviction in his voice, it all sent me into a panic. There’s no rug in existence big enough to sweep all of that under.
Thank God Kayla was still in town. If it weren’t for her rushing to my apartment when I called, I’d still be curled up on my couch, devastated that Hunter thinks of me as just another woman on his roster. I bawled to her for hours at the thought of losing one of my best friends. Confessing to her about my feelings for Hunter was a messy, snotty display. But today is a new day, and I’m too tired to deal with any of it.
My stomach alerts me when lunchtime rolls around, growling with a fickle reminder of where I would usually be now. The clock on the wall confirms it, and I didn’t have the forethought to pack a lunch from home. Leaning on the counter behind the register, I dig my phone out of my pocket and pull up a list of local delivery places. Right as I decide on a turkey wrap from Lunch-a-Bunch, a message flashes on my screen.
Hunter
Hey…so, I brought you lunch.
Me
…
Hunter
I realize you might not want to see me…
So, I’ll count to 60 before coming in. If you want to hide out in the back, I can leave it by the register.
Frozen for several seconds, I reread his messages while lightning bugs dance around the muddled questions in my mind. I know he can see the bouncing dots as I type and erase potential responses, but I’m mind-blown. He’s never gone out of his way to bring me lunch before. We’ve gone out to lunch, sure. But bringing lunch to a woman after everything he confessed doesn’t feel like a friendly favor. It feels like a romantic gesture. I’m nervous to see him face-to-face, but my intrigue gets the best of me.
Me
K
Hunter
Counting now…
It would take ten steps to get to the back room and avoid looking into those infuriating green eyes. Easy. Send the message loud and clear that I don’t want to talk to him. Never mind my clenching thighs as I remember his lips on mine. Stepping into the breakroom would halt the flitter-flutter-flop in my belly long enough to remind myself. It would only take ten steps, and yet, I can’t move one. Can’t extinguish the glimmer of excitement inside. I want to see him .
The door chimes, and my thumbnail slips between my teeth. My eyes trail up the khaki-covered legs walking toward me as I will the triple F of my heart-stomach combo to slow down. Flitter-flutter-flop . Flitter . Flutter . Fl ? —
“You stayed.” The relief behind Hunter’s shy grin makes me bite my lip. He clutches a take-out bag from Lunch-a-Bunch in his hand.
“I…” No words. At this point, I don’t know if staying was voluntary or a freeze response to my panic.
“Can you step out for five minutes? Hell, I’ll even take three if you’ll give me that.”
I still have nothing, and the eager look in his eyes flickers to a timid stare.
“One minute?” His nervous chuckle is so cute, a smile slides across my face. “Yeah?”
“You’re so annoying,” I say, shaking my head as I come around the counter.
“Who, me?” He smirks. Damn those flutters waging war in my belly. “Naw. I’ve never heard that before.”
“Hannah, I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Hunter’s car is front and center when we walk into the bright sunlight. He opens the passenger side—another new gesture. With the lightest touch, he places his hand on my back as I slide into the seat.
“You brought me lunch…” I say, when he gets in the car.
He settles behind the wheel, bag still in hand. “I did. Wanted to make sure you had something to eat…and apologize. I shouldn’t have sprung everything on you like that.”
“Thanks…” We sit quietly, awkwardly, as we try to navigate these new loose ends dangling between us. He’s acting weird, and I don’t know what to make of it. It’s endearing, but different . “You’re down to eight minutes, by the way,” I say.
“I’d better get to it then. Ashlie, I want to date you.”
My face falls in complete shock. “You—huh? What?”
“I. Want to. Date you.” He punctuates his words with a smile on his face.
“No, I heard you. I just…what? Like go on a date?” What would we even do ? Argue with each other and call it a night ?
“Dates. Multiple. With you. Just you. I want to date you.”
“But you don’t do that…”
“That changes if you say yes…”
“But—”
“Bruh.” He tips his head back, rubbing his eyes before looking at me again. “Okay, let’s try it like this. How about a bet?”
“…A dating bet?” I blink at him. “Like a game? We’re not twelve.”
“I know, just…give me till after the wedding.”
Sighing, I check the time on my phone. “I dunno, Hunt…”
“Look, hear me out… If I can convince you I’m not tryna entertain anyone else by then, you give us a real shot at being together. And if I fail—which I won’t—I’ll drop it, and we can add one more item to our list of things we never talk about.”
I scowl at his logic. This sounds all sorts of complicated, especially after what happened a couple of days ago. “So if you win, you get me. And if I win, I get…secrets? How is that fair?”
“Okay, how about this: You keep dating what’s-his-name too. And if I fail, which again, I won’t, then you still have that.”
“Oh, so now you’re giving me permission ?” I squint at him. My budding relationship with Trevor is decidedly slow, but I have fun with him. I’m not ready to give that up for whatever this is.
“It’s not permission. It’s acceptance that you might want to keep seeing what’s-his-name.”
“Boy, you know his name…” I laugh at how ridiculous this all sounds, but I’m amused. “And what am I getting out of this bet when you lose?”
“I’m not losing. But what do you want?”
That’s the third time he’s said he won’t lose. His confidence makes me want to scoff in his face and curl my toes, all at the same time. The eager smile on his lips is convincing, but part of me is full of hesitation. Hunter’s the epitome of the dating pattern I’m trying to break. I’ve seen him in action; knowingly signing up for that isn’t a smart move.
But the part of me that made that confession at Christmas wants to see if he really can resist his playboy ways for more than a couple weeks, even if it’s just a game. We’ve crossed friendship boundaries before and have always bounced back after. One more step over the line, even with an unserious bet, likely won’t matter. What’s the worst that could happen ?
“If I win, you have to buy me tickets to the summer music festival of my choosing, with accommodations,” I say.
“Easy. Done. But I’m not?—”
“Losing? Yeah, I got that. And just so we’re clear, I don’t need your permission to date Trevor…” I purse my lips.
“I know that. My point is, do what makes you happy. As for me, I just want to date you…if that’s okay?”
“So now you’re asking if it’s okay to date me?”
“Yes, Ashlie.” He sighs. “I’m asking if it’s okay for me to date you.”
“Usually, you would ask someone out on a date, not ask to date them…”
“ Oh my God , woman!” He groans, tipping his head against the seat. “Okay. If I ask you on a date, will you say yes?”
“Ask me and find out.” Now I’m messing with him. A flustered Hunter is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. He holds everything so close to his chest all the time, watching him flounder a little is adorable.
“You’re really making this so painfully frustrating.”
“Three more minutes, Hunt.”
“Ashlie, would you like to come to my place for dinner? Tonight? At seven? For a date?”
“ Oof ! Alone in your apartment on a first date? That’s risky… What if you’re some kind of creeper?”
“Ash…” He sighs again, scratching his forehead with his thumbnail. Watching him squirm feels like adequate payback for the chaos he laid at my doorstep over the weekend. But I think he’s suffered enough.
“Okay, okay. Yes, but I should warn you…” I say, leaning in close to peer into his eyes. He leans in, too, as if my movement triggers an automatic response in him. Lifting his brow, he waits for me to finish, his breath catching as I hold his gaze. His eyes dip when I lick my lips, completely taking the bait as he follows the motion. Just to lay it on thick, I trap my lower lip between my teeth, and he leans in closer. With a smirk, I whisper, “I don’t kiss on the first date.”
“What about before the first date?” He wiggles his eyebrows, making my laugh come out as a snort.
“Nope. Times up.” I reach for the door. “And I have one more condition. No one finds out about this. I don’t want to look stupid when you lose the bet.”
He shakes his head with a gleam in his eye. “I’m not losing this one.”
“We’ll see…” I say, pulling on the handle.
“Wait!” He stops me with a hand on my arm, his touch scattering goosebumps across my skin. Handing me the bag of food, he smiles. “Your lunch.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, taking the bag and stepping onto the sidewalk.
Right before I get inside, he rolls down the window and calls out, “See you tonight, honey bear .”
My face heats from the surge of butterflies at the sound of my pet name. Once inside, I tear into the food bag. My cheeks ache from the grin on my face as I spot two of my favorite things: a small coastal sunflower and a turkey wrap from Lunch-a-Bunch. I tuck the flower into my hair, smiling like a fool. The lid on that box of feelings I buried a few weeks ago just cracked—wide open.