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The guy who could get any girl he wanted was fascinated by the one girl who wasn’t impressed. I was a walking cliché.
God definitely had favorites, and Asher was one of them.
Leave it to Asher Donovan to make sweating sexy.
The warmth in my veins melted into honey. Hell, everything melted. At this rate, they’d have to scrape me off the driveway with a spatula.
Was it normal for a human heart to beat this fast? I had my annual checkup a few weeks ago. The doctor said everything looked normal, but maybe I needed a second opinion because something strange was going on inside my chest.
Everything was better coming from her.
If her smile was a burglar, her laugh was a fucking thief because I was pretty sure she just stole a piece of my heart from right out under me.
Sometimes, we needed someone else to point out what was right in front of us.
“I think you’re capable of more than you give yourself credit for,” I said. “But at the end of the day, you have to ask yourself what you’d regret more—trying and failing, or not trying at all?”
Every time I thought about Asher, I felt like I was trapped on a runaway train, the wind whipping through my lungs as we barreled toward the edge of a cliff. I knew how the story would end, but for a few precious moments, the sheer exhilaration overshadowed our inevitable doom.
I wanted to be anywhere else, as long as I was alone with her.
When his eyes met mine, they were filled with nothing except pure, appreciation-fueled desire, and it was that, more than anything else, that ended the war inside me. Heart: one. Mind: zero.
No one had ever looked at me like that, like they could see past all my shields and pretenses to the imperfections I fought to hide. Like those imperfections didn’t matter, and not only did they not matter, but they were a reason for appreciation instead of an obstacle.
Oh, he was good. Not only that, he was genuine, which made it that much worse for my poor heart.
In the end, that was what sold me. Not the private jet, not the all-expenses-paid trip to Tokyo, but the prospect of simply spending more time with him.
I couldn’t imagine a me without him, and that terrified me more than anything else.
Because I didn’t just love him; I was in love with him. I was so in love with him that the thought of him dying made me want to die.
If he destroyed himself, he destroyed me, and once upon a time, I’d vowed never to put myself in a position where a man would have that type of power over me ever again.
I was in love with someone who didn’t love himself, and I didn’t know where that left me. Where that left us.
That was the problem. I cared too much. I cared too much and he didn’t care enough, and I was afraid we’d never bridge that gap.
Emotion is a powerful motivator, but it can also be your greatest enemy.”
“Then you came along and shattered every preconception I had of who I was and what I wanted. You made me reevaluate my life and want to be a better person—not just for you but for me.”
But the greater the risk, the greater the reward,
