“I’m really pleased you came,” I said. I meant it.

“I’ll be your fill-in date anytime.” She grinned at me. She was so beautiful. The light collected around her, making her glow.

I took a beat just to savor that incredible smile. “You’ll never be that, Ash.” Her eyes narrowed, just slightly. If I hadn’t known her, I wouldn’t have noticed. “You’re no-one’s understudy.”

“I just meant—”

“I didn’t invite you tonight because Emma and I’d split—I asked you before that happened. I asked you because there was no one I’d rather spend an evening with.” I meant it.

She didn’t respond, so I searched her face to see if she’d understood. I found a mixture of confusion and apprehension on her face. Was I coming on too strong? Did she not feel this?

The cab pulled up to her building before I got a chance to ask her. I followed her into the night air and into her building. We were silent in the lift. Every atom of my body wanted to pull her toward me, but I resisted. I didn’t want to scare her. I’d hate to spoil our friendship if she didn’t feel the same way. I couldn’t live without her in my life in one way or another—but in that moment I wanted her to be my whole life.

“So, tequila,” she said as she flung her bag on the hall table, kicked off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen. I followed her, pulled out two shot glasses from the cupboard above the refrigerator and then grabbed limes, quickly cutting them into slices. I knew her kitchen almost better than I knew the one I’d shared with Emma. Ash produced the tequila and the salt, and we settled ourselves in the living room, sitting on the rug, our ingredients set out in front of us on the coffee table.

We exchanged glances, as if we knew we were at the starting line. I raised the tequila bottle as a question and she nodded.

“We should do a truth or a dare before every shot,” she announced.

I grinned. Perfect.

“You start,” she said.

I carefully poured out the shots, trying to formulate a question that would open the door without scaring her off. “Did you find Isaac attractive?” I asked. I wanted to know the answer. What was her type? Was it Richard? Isaac?

Me?

She frowned and regarded me carefully. “He’s good looking,” she said as my heart sped up. It wasn’t the answer I’d wanted. “And funny, which is important. I guess a little.” Jealousy gnawed at my gut and I tried to take a deep breath without her noticing.

“Do you have a type?” I asked. My attention was focused on her lithe legs as she shifted to sit cross-legged in front of me.

“Hey, you can’t have two questions in a row. Do your shot.”

I grinned, licked the back of my hand, poured on the salt and did my shot. I felt Ash’s gaze on me. What was she thinking? I closed my eyes as the tequila burned a trail down my throat. What was she going to ask me?

I watched as she refilled my glass. “Your turn,” I said.

She ran her index finger across her bottom lip as she considered her question. Blood sped to my cock at the thought of her mouth on me.

“What do you want me to ask you?”

I held her gaze. She was clever. She’d asked me a question without asking me a question. She was holding back, and I understood that. This was new, shaky territory that we were in. The corners of my mouth twitched.

“Ask me something . . . intimate.”

Did her breath catch?

She searched for the salt, and I picked it up as she reached for it. Instead of giving it to her, I took her hand, turning it to expose her palm. I leaned forward and licked a line across her wrist. She tasted as sweet as she smelled, and I had to hold myself back from pinning her to the floor and devouring her whole. Her eyes were fixed to mine and her mouth was parted. I poured salt across the wet mark I’d made, but didn’t let go of her hand.

Slowly she bent her head, her tongue echoing the path I’d just made, and reluctantly I let go of her hand. She threw back her shot.

Keeping her eyes on mine, she licked her fingers free of lime juice.

“Your turn,” she said, shifting forward, her dress revealing the curve of her breast. I had to suppress a moan. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When you put on that dress tonight, did you want me to notice you?”

She looked away and whispered, “I always want you to notice me.”

My stomach flipped. She was raising the stakes. Quickly, I did my shot. I wanted to know what was next.

“Why are you here?” she asked, looking directly at me.

It was a good question. The ultimate question. Why was I there? I was there to risk everything. I could fob her off. Tell her we were celebrating, rather than mention how I wanted to spend every last moment of this evening with her. It was as though this urge to be with her had broken free within me and now was overwhelming my every thought, my every action.

“Because I want to kiss you,” I said. It had been true since I’d first seen her in that dress; it just wasn’t the whole truth.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. “All of a sudden?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.

“Hey, you can’t have two questions in a row. Do your shot,” I said, using her words against her. “Do you want me to help?”

“I think I can manage this time.”

I needed her to digest what I’d said. I wanted to give her time to think about whether or not she wanted to kiss me. Would I have to convince her to kiss me back?

Without sparing me a single glance, she went through the tequila ritual, squeezing her eyes shut at the burn of the alcohol.

“My turn.” My heart was beating through my chest. “So you have to tell me the truth, whatever it is,” I said, reminding her that there would be no way out of this question. She nodded. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

She looked away as if I’d wounded her. “Luke,” she said. “You can’t ask me that.” Her voice was soft, sad even.

“Why?” I was genuinely confused.

“Because you know the answer,” she said.

“I do?” Maybe I did. Maybe there had always been something beneath the joking and the teasing that felt true.

“You know that I’ve wanted you to kiss me since forever. I might joke about us, but it doesn’t mean that I’m not serious.”

My heart clenched at her honesty. It was one of the many things I loved about her. We didn’t need to play truth or dare. Every conversation with Ash was honest.

I took a deep breath. This was it. This was the point of no return. I downed my shot of tequila. No salt, no lime. “You’re beautiful.” I leaned forward, my hand on the back of her neck.

“Luke,” she whispered. It was half warning me away, half calling me home.

I was close enough to feel her breath against my lips. I moved forward and pressed my mouth against hers. She was soft and open, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth, wanting to taste more of her, all of her.

Ashleigh

Luke was kissing me.

Luke was kissing me! I felt it in every inch of my body. I wasn’t quite sure how we ended up that way. All I knew was how right it felt, how it was as I’d always imagined it would be—perfect. He was strong and firm and eager—so eager—as if he’d forgotten it was me. As though he’d forgotten our history and all the complications that this kiss brought. Everything disappeared with the press of his lips.

He let out a small, contented sigh and pulled away from me slightly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. It was what I’d always wanted to hear from him, but now I had, it didn’t seem real somehow.

“Is that the tequila talking?” I asked softly, confused by what seemed such a sudden change of heart. Luke pulled back even more and moved to sit on the sofa. I’d ruined the moment, broken the spell. But then he held out his hand to me. I took it, and he coaxed me onto his lap.

He stroked my back as he buried his head in my neck. “No . . . I don’t know. I think it’s been building for a while, and I’ve only now noticed. I was surprised that I didn’t really like you dating Richard. I couldn’t figure out why it bothered me, and then tonight, when I saw you, I realized.”