he never wanted to go anywhere else, but I’d
unthinkingly said yes while distracted by a client,
and afterward I’d felt too bad to tell him I’d
changed my mind.
As Lane placed his order, I looked around the
café on the pretense of searching for a table. When
I didn’t see a sign of either twin, I breathed a sigh
of relief. Okay. Potential awkwardness averted.
What were the chances, anyway? I’d seen them a
handful of times, but I’d been to The Banana Leaf
dozens of others without running into them there.
The odds were definitely in my favor. So why was
I feeling so nervous?
It didn’t take long for my question to be
answered. It seemed to go right along with my luck
in general that he would show up the one time I
wasn’t desperately wishing for him to be there.
I felt him the moment he walked in. Sounds
strange, I know, but it was true all the same. I was
halfway into my Greek salad when I sensed a
change in the air, a tingle, a sudden rush of
awareness. I glanced across the café, unsurprised
to see Asher settling into one of the booths that
lined the front windows. And I knew it was him
without even a flicker of doubt.
He hadn’t noticed me yet, but it was a small
place. I sat there, breath held, expecting him to
look up any minute, hoping whatever it was that
had alerted me to his presence would do the same
for him. Anxious or not, I wanted his eyes on me. I
wanted to see his face when he realized I was
there.
No matter how hard I stared, though, he didn’t
even look my way. He sat there toying with his
phone, completely oblivious, until a tall, skinny
redhead entered the café and approached his table.
Asher smiled and stood long enough to accept her
hug and kiss on the cheek. My stomach tensed, but I
kept watching anyway. I couldn’t say why. Maybe
I had a previously undiscovered penchant for self-
torture.
“What is it?” Lane asked. “Dusty?”
His voice snapped me out of the daze I’d
slipped into. I blinked in surprise. “Huh?”
Lane glanced over his shoulder, following the
direction I’d been staring in. “Oh,” he said. “That
guy. Didn’t you talk to him the other week? I know
he may be hot, but he is such a man-slut. Seriously,
I’ve heard some stuff about him. Suffice it to say,
you rarely see him with the same person twice.
Men, women, doesn’t matter. He gets around.”
I swallowed hard, trying to fight down the
stupid, achy lump in my throat. Oh, God, why am I
getting so worked up over a complete stranger? I
didn’t have an answer for that question, but it was
true all the same. My palms grew damp with
sweat. A wave of queasiness washed over me,
startling in its intensity. Jesus. He’s not even my
boyfriend. Why does it matter if he’s here with
some girl?
I didn’t know why. But it did matter. It did.
“I’ll be right back.” I slid off my seat without
waiting for Lane to respond, carefully avoiding the
section of the café where Asher was seated as I
made my way to the restroom.
Once there, I splashed a bit of water on my
face, thankful I’d skipped putting on any makeup
before leaving home that morning. I patted my face
dry with a couple of paper towels and leaned
heavily against the sink. Pull yourself together,
Dusty. Pull it together.
I couldn’t understand what was going on with
me. I’d never felt anything like this for any other
guy, not even Gary, who at a little over a year had
been my longest relationship. At one time, in the
beginning, things had been great between us. But
even then, the feelings I’d had for him paled in
comparison to the longing I felt for Asher.
I’d heard it said once that desire only turned
into yearning when there was pain involved.
Without the hurt, it was only want. I’d wanted
before. I’d wanted Erik, once upon a time, but not
like this. What I felt for Asher, it was yearning. I’d
never said a word to him. He’d barely even
touched me. But I
unthinkingly said yes while distracted by a client,
and afterward I’d felt too bad to tell him I’d
changed my mind.
As Lane placed his order, I looked around the
café on the pretense of searching for a table. When
I didn’t see a sign of either twin, I breathed a sigh
of relief. Okay. Potential awkwardness averted.
What were the chances, anyway? I’d seen them a
handful of times, but I’d been to The Banana Leaf
dozens of others without running into them there.
The odds were definitely in my favor. So why was
I feeling so nervous?
It didn’t take long for my question to be
answered. It seemed to go right along with my luck
in general that he would show up the one time I
wasn’t desperately wishing for him to be there.
I felt him the moment he walked in. Sounds
strange, I know, but it was true all the same. I was
halfway into my Greek salad when I sensed a
change in the air, a tingle, a sudden rush of
awareness. I glanced across the café, unsurprised
to see Asher settling into one of the booths that
lined the front windows. And I knew it was him
without even a flicker of doubt.
He hadn’t noticed me yet, but it was a small
place. I sat there, breath held, expecting him to
look up any minute, hoping whatever it was that
had alerted me to his presence would do the same
for him. Anxious or not, I wanted his eyes on me. I
wanted to see his face when he realized I was
there.
No matter how hard I stared, though, he didn’t
even look my way. He sat there toying with his
phone, completely oblivious, until a tall, skinny
redhead entered the café and approached his table.
Asher smiled and stood long enough to accept her
hug and kiss on the cheek. My stomach tensed, but I
kept watching anyway. I couldn’t say why. Maybe
I had a previously undiscovered penchant for self-
torture.
“What is it?” Lane asked. “Dusty?”
His voice snapped me out of the daze I’d
slipped into. I blinked in surprise. “Huh?”
Lane glanced over his shoulder, following the
direction I’d been staring in. “Oh,” he said. “That
guy. Didn’t you talk to him the other week? I know
he may be hot, but he is such a man-slut. Seriously,
I’ve heard some stuff about him. Suffice it to say,
you rarely see him with the same person twice.
Men, women, doesn’t matter. He gets around.”
I swallowed hard, trying to fight down the
stupid, achy lump in my throat. Oh, God, why am I
getting so worked up over a complete stranger? I
didn’t have an answer for that question, but it was
true all the same. My palms grew damp with
sweat. A wave of queasiness washed over me,
startling in its intensity. Jesus. He’s not even my
boyfriend. Why does it matter if he’s here with
some girl?
I didn’t know why. But it did matter. It did.
“I’ll be right back.” I slid off my seat without
waiting for Lane to respond, carefully avoiding the
section of the café where Asher was seated as I
made my way to the restroom.
Once there, I splashed a bit of water on my
face, thankful I’d skipped putting on any makeup
before leaving home that morning. I patted my face
dry with a couple of paper towels and leaned
heavily against the sink. Pull yourself together,
Dusty. Pull it together.
I couldn’t understand what was going on with
me. I’d never felt anything like this for any other
guy, not even Gary, who at a little over a year had
been my longest relationship. At one time, in the
beginning, things had been great between us. But
even then, the feelings I’d had for him paled in
comparison to the longing I felt for Asher.
I’d heard it said once that desire only turned
into yearning when there was pain involved.
Without the hurt, it was only want. I’d wanted
before. I’d wanted Erik, once upon a time, but not
like this. What I felt for Asher, it was yearning. I’d
never said a word to him. He’d barely even
touched me. But I
Similar Books
