Chapter 2
Harper
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” I yell as Asher puts the car in drive and speeds down the cobblestone path towards the main road. Meanwhile, the resort is growing smaller and smaller in the side mirror.
“Put your seatbelt on,” he demands as an answer. “People drive like maniacs here.”
Asher Levine has always been a bit on the rough and grumpy side. He’s my older brother’s best friend and business partner, and I’ve known him most of my life. He does what he wants, when he wants most of the time, but this is next level.
“I’m not putting on my seatbelt because I’m not staying in the car with you,” I snap.
Even though I am staring at him, Asher keeps his eyes on the road.
Then, without warning, he hits the brakes.
I fly forward, but before I hit the dash, his right arm swings in front of me, and I slam into that instead.
Honestly, I don’t know if it’s much softer.
It’s toned and hard and showcases a couple of his tattoos.
“You’re insane!” I cry out.
“I’m not the one without a seatbelt on,” he says calmly, but I’m not giving up that easily.
I toss him a smug smile and reach for my phone. But then I stop. I’m wearing a wedding dress. A pocketless wedding dress.
“Where is my purse?” I ask.
“In the back. Your phone’s in there too.”
“When did you–”
“I snagged it off the chair on the way up the aisle.”
“And my shoes?” I seethe.
“Forgot those. Sorry.”
With my mouth wide open, I shake my head in utter disbelief. A car sails past us, horn blaring, and I finally give in and put on my seatbelt.
“Jaylen didn’t send you?” I ask as we wind up the coast.
“Nope,” he answers dryly.
This man, I fucking swear to God. He’s always been a pain in my ass, my whole life.
My brother is almost fifteen years older than me, and considering Ash and him graduated the same year, I assume the age gap is the same.
He’s always been my brother’s smug, salty friend, and I’ve spent a lot of my life avoiding him.
He’s a sarcastic jerk a lot of the time.
But he’s also an incredibly good looking sarcastic jerk, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he knows I think that.
It’s why he’s smirking all the time.
“So where are we going then?” I ask with a frustrated sigh.
“Back to the States.”
I look around, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. “The airport is that way,” I thumb behind us.
“We aren’t going to the airport,” he says, turning down a winding road.
“Not going to the airport? What? You got a boat there, Captain?” I ask, and I swear there’s a hint of a smile on his face right next to those dimples and the freckle on his upper lip, right above his cupid’s bow.
Not that I’m looking or have looked before.
“Our flight is tomorrow,” he says, making another turn.
My mind is spinning right now. I want my phone.
I want to call Daniel and tell him where we are so he’ll come rescue me.
I want to yell at Jaylen and tell him to call off the dogs.
Instead, I’m stuck with Silent Bob here, who’s giving me nothing more than caveman answers and ruining my destination wedding day.
“Tomorrow?” I ask. “You booked a flight…all the way to Costa Rica…”
“Redeye,” he corrects me.
“On a whim,” I add, “so that you could crash my wedding and kidnap me, and we aren’t even going home?”
Asher comes to a stop sign and looks at me for the first time since we got in the car.
“I just flew almost six hours to get here after going through hell in airport security then drove another hour to the resort where I got into a Spanglish argument with a concierge who refused to tell me where the wedding was being held, while some kid kept trying to take my luggage–”
“All so you could ruin my wedding,” I finish the sentence for him.
“All so I could save you from marrying a man who…” he bites his lips.
“A man who what?” I ask, and the car behind us honks. Asher glances in the rearview mirror, then starts driving again. “A man who what, Ash?”
Asher just shakes his head and says, “He isn’t right for you. It would have been a mistake.” His tone is flat. Allusive. Annoying.
“Exactly what makes you the authority on that?” I ask as he pulls over and puts the car in park.
“You’re just going to have to trust me on that.” Asher gets out of the car and closes the door right in the middle of my reply.
“Ugh!” I scream, pushing the door open and stomping over to him. For a moment, I was so mad I forgot I was in a wedding dress. It’s not an elaborate, poofy dress with a long train, but it’s still a pain in the ass to walk in. “What are you doing?” I snap.
“Getting our luggage out. Unless you want to wear that all night,” he says. I look down and, sure enough, he has my suitcase.
“Where did you get that?”
“I messaged the hotel when I landed and told them to bring it out of your room.”
I blink, shaking my head in slow disbelief. “You planned all of this?”
“More or less,” he says. “Now come inside.”
Asher grabs both our bags and heads up the brick path leading to the villa.
Jungle plants and radiant flowers surround us as we walk to the villa.
When I step inside, my jaw drops as I take in all the lush details.
It’s modern and luxurious with wood cabinetry, sleek countertops, a hand-painted backsplash, and leather furniture.
The kitchen is bright and open, stocked with fresh fruit, assorted breads, and cookies.
There is even a cocktail bar and an espresso machine. My eyes linger on the bar for a moment.
“The bathroom is over here,” he gestures, “with a rainfall shower and Jacuzzi tub,” Asher trails off as he opens the French doors, stepping outside.
I follow him, unsure what else to do. There’s a pool overlooking the beach.
The patio has chairs, a hot tub, and even a sauna.
There’s also a built-in grill. It’s just about as fancy as the resort he kidnapped me from.
“The bedroom opens up to the pool area,” he says as he opens another set of sliding doors. The wall of the room is glass, opening the room completely up to the view. We stand halfway in and halfway out of the bedroom.
“There you go,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and rattling the car keys. “Mi casa es tu casa.”
“Solo una cama,” I respond, and his brow furrows. I smirk and say, “Someone didn’t brush up on their Spanish during the flight. It means only one bed. You got a rental with only one bed.”
He frowns and actually looks hurt, making me regret my words for a moment. Until I remind myself that he literally just removed me by force from the altar.
“Sorry, Princess. I didn’t know you required a castle.” He says.
“What I require,” I say as I march back into the living room where our luggage is sitting.
“Is my phone. What I require is an explanation from you on why you did this so that when I call Daniel, I can explain to him what possessed you to ruin our wedding day! And don’t use the excuse that he is your business rival.
I don’t care who has the better crab cakes and filet mignon. ”
I grab my purse off the top of my suitcase and pull out my phone. When I see that there are no missed calls, my heart dips in my chest a little. He didn’t even text? Still, I dial Daniel’s number and hit send. It rings and rings until finally going to voicemail.
Well, that’s odd. I think.
I pull the phone away from my face and end the call, then redial. Same thing.
“Trouble in paradise?” Asher asks nonchalantly while biting into some exotic fruit I’ve never seen before.
“He must’ve lost his phone,” I stutter, feeling both worried and embarrassed.
“Well, while you settle in, I’m going to take a shower,” he says as he walks toward the bathroom. Before he closes the door, he stops and says, “Also, we are eight miles from town and three miles from the nearest neighboring villa. When they say secluded, they really mean secluded.”
Asher closes the door, and my jaw drops.
I guess that’s his way of saying that I’m trapped here.
So, I start to freak out.
“This is fine,” I say as I pace the floor.
“This is fine. You’re not in danger, just a predicament.
” I know my words are true and not just a therapy-learned self-soothing tactic because I have known this man for a very long time.
While he’s a bit infuriating from time to time (right now officially earning the top spot of those times), he would never hurt me.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I am helpless.
In a villa.
In Costa Rica.
The problem is, I should be here with Daniel right now. He should be my husband right now. Instead, I am with my brother’s friend.
As I continue to pace, I step on my dress, nearly face-planting on the slick floor. Regardless of whether I should be here right now, I can’t wear this dress any longer.
After some struggle and breaking a decent sweat, I am able to get the zipper down.
I shimmy out of the dress and catch my reflection in the full length mirror on the wall.
My lingerie is lacy, blue, and see through.
I’ve never worn lingerie in my life, but from what I know from reading romance novels, that’s what you’re supposed to wear on your wedding night.
I don’t actually know these things from experience because I’ve never had that experience.
AKA…I’m a virgin.
I’m also 25.
I’ve been saving myself for marriage.
And my wedding night was supposed to be tonight. Yet here I am at a villa in the middle of nowhere with my childhood nemesis wearing lingerie that is a waste and a shame because I look good. And he’s just in the bathroom taking a shower like all of this is perfectly okay.
As I slip out of the lingerie and into regular panties and a bra, I find myself getting more and more irritated by it all.
Asher has always been the guy that all the girls notice.
His Chalamet jawline, Jude Law smirk, and Sebastian Stan aura make him hard to miss.
What they don’t know is that under all that brooding aloofness and washboard abs, he’s sardonic and opinionated and stubborn.
Here I sit, angry as hell, rightfully so. All he did was stand there; no explanation, no motive, no reasoning at all. He just stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets, jingling the car keys.
I stop.
The car keys…
If I can get the keys from his pants pocket, I can take the car and go find Daniel!
I pad quietly over to the bathroom door, which conveniently is cracked. Steam swirls out, tickling my nose. I try not to breathe. If I am going to manage this, I can’t make a sound. Holding my breath, I open the door the rest of the way and scream.
Asher is standing with his back to me, completely naked.
He jumps and whips around to face me.
As he turns, he slips, sliding straight into me.
I scream again as we both crash to the floor.
Me on my back.
And him, naked, on top of me.