“I'm sorry,” I whisper into his chest, feeling like a total dork.
“When you move in, we’ll talk about your money.”
“What?” My head jerked back so I could look into his eyes.
“You heard me, and know that shit will be soon. I don’t like you having to travel to your dad’s every few days to go get clothes and shit.”
“Asher,” I say, glaring at him and putting my hands on my hips for the full effect. “You are not going to boss me into moving in with you.”
“There will be no bossing, baby. You want to move in. Don’t you love feeding me breakfast in bed every morning?” he asks and I shiver. Every morning, he has me for breakfast before he gets out of bed, and yes, I do love feeding him. “Don’t you like lazing on the couch, watching movies at night?” I did love that, or just lying on him while he watches a game. “Don’t you love cooking in my kitchen?” Yes, I loved his kitchen. It was my favorite room in the house. I loved baking in there, or just sitting at the counter with my kindle reading. “Don’t you love me f**king you whenever you need to be f**ked?” Um, yes! I bite my lip and look over his shoulder.
“Those are just a few of the reasons why I won’t have to boss you to move in with me.” He had a point. He wouldn’t need to boss me into it. It was just too soon. Maybe in a few months, but right now, I like knowing that I still have my dad’s house to run to if I needed it.
“Can we not talk about this right now? I need to get ready to go to your parents’ house.”
“Yeah, we can wait to talk about it, but we will be talking about it.”
“Great.” I roll my eyes. “Something to look forward to.” He kisses my nose and gives me his dimple smile then leaves me to watch him walk away. I shake my head. He’s such a jerk but I love him. Wait, what? I love him? Oh my God, I love him. Oh no, I love him. Crap! Oh my God, does he love me? I turn to look in the mirror. “So what, you love him. He doesn’t have to love you back,” I whisper to myself.
“What, baby?”
“Shit!” I jump and look through the mirror to see Asher watching me. “Um, nothing. I just, um, burnt myself.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, smirking, and I wonder if he heard me admit to myself that I love him.
“Yeah, I'm fine, great, just fine.” Great, now I'm blubbering like an idiot. He tilts his head and smiles. My heart starts thumping double time.
“Uh hum. I thought I heard you say something?” he says, taking a step closer to me.
“Nope, not me. I didn’t say anything. Maybe you heard the TV or something.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“The TVs are off.”
“Hmm, that’s strange. Maybe you have a ghost,” I say, tilting my head.
“This house is built on an old graveyard, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there are ghosts.”
“What?” I whisper, in shock. I hate ghosts. Not that I’ve met any, but I don’t like the idea of them. I watched the first Paranormal Activity movie and got so scared that I had to sleep with the lights on for a month. Let’s just say my college roommate was not happy about that. “We can’t stay here,” I yell. “We have to hire a ghost buster person to come get rid of it. Then, we have to bless the house, and if the ghost doesn’t leave, we need to move.” I was panting and Asher’s lips were twitching. “Oh my God! This is not funny. We could end up dead, don’t you know that? Haven’t you ever seen the exorcist?” I was yelling.
He threw his head back laughing. “Baby, there is no ghost. I was kidding. The house is not built on a graveyard.”
I smack him in the arm. “That’s not funny. Why would you say something like that?”
“You wanna admit what you said when you were in here talking to yourself?”
“I wasn’t talking to myself,” I snapped at him. “I was talking to Beast.” I'm a genius. I forgot about Beast. He’s the perfect cover up.
His eyes narrowed. “So, what were you saying to Beast then?”
“Nothing. Just that I love him and he’s a good dog, even if he doesn’t love me.”
“Trust me, he loves you. Even though he thinks you’re whacked.” Does that mean Asher loves me? Wait, what the hell?
“I'm not whacked.” I growl at him.
“Do you love me, baby?”
“W…wh… what?” I stutter out, shaking my head. Then, he is crowding me against the counter.
“Don’t piss me off, baby.” He growls. I bite my lip to keep myself quiet. His eyes drop to my mouth and narrow. “Tell me that you love me.” I start shaking my head and he holds my face between his hands. “Tell me you love me so I can say it back.”
“What?” I whisper in shock, searching his face to make sure he’s telling the truth.
“Tell me, baby.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Say it, baby.” He lays his forehead against mine.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I whisper, “I love you.” My heart feels like it might beat out of my chest. I hear his sharp intake of breath then his hands fist into the hair at the sides of my head.
“Open your eyes.” I swallow then open my eyes. “I love you too, baby. Jesus, I’ve loved you since I saw your beautiful face standing at the bar in your dad’s club. I knew then that you were it for me.”