“I know we haven’t met, but you’re my favorite person ever,” the player standing next to the Porsche called out. I recognized him as Samson Agbo, one of the club’s wingers. “I got this baby for free.” He slapped the shiny black hood with affection.
“I got the Lambo!” Adil jangled his keys with a triumphant grin. “Thanks for breaking up with him, Scarlett. You should do it more often.”
The other players laughed while Asher glared at him.
I scanned the lineup until my eyes fell on Vincent, who leaned against the side of a vintage hunter green Jaguar convertible. Asher’s favorite. The one he said Holchester defaced and that kickstarted this whole mess.
Whoever he’d hired to restore the paint had done an immaculate job because there was no trace of a single scratch.
Vincent nodded when our gazes met. It was a small gesture, but I heard him loud and clear.
I had his full blessing to rekindle my relationship with Asher if I wanted.
Fresh emotion gushed into my throat.
I faced Asher again, trying to piece my wayward thoughts into a coherent response. There were so many important things I wanted to say that they eluded my grasp altogether, so I fell back on the first thing that came to mind. “If you gave away all your cars, what are you going to drive?”
His face broke out into a grin as he pointed out the car next to the Jaguar. The saloon was so bland and nondescript it’d blended into the surrounding gray cement until he directed my attention to it.
“That one,” he said, sounding proud. “It was voted the safest car in the world this year. Four-wheel antilock braking system, forward-collision warning system, front and rear head protection…who needs to go from zero to sixty in two point three seconds when you have adaptive cruise control?”
The wind carried my startled laugh through the car park. “I have no idea what any of that means, but it sounds…safe.”
“Very safe.” Asher’s expression sobered. He turned his back to the team, shielding me from their eyes as his voice dipped again. “I wanted to show how serious I was about changing. I can’t make up for what I did, but I can do everything in my power to ensure it never happens again. And I’m so fucking sorry for putting you through—”
I cut him off with a kiss.
In the absence of suitable words, I let my actions do the talking. My fingers delved into his hair, and after a split second of surprised hesitation, he kissed me back, his mouth melting against mine with such exquisite intimacy that I felt it in every molecule of my body.
My mind hazed, and despite the October chill, warmth suffused my skin.
Kissing Asher again after nearly two weeks of deprivation was like breaking through the surface of water after hours of icy submersion. Every sense crystallized with poignant detail—the sensual firmness of his lips, the hint of spice in his aftershave, the strength of his hand as it cupped my face.
I barely heard the team’s whistles and catcalls as I gave in to the sweet headiness of the moment.
I couldn’t guarantee that Asher wouldn’t revert to his old habits down the road, but I trusted him. I saw the conviction in his eyes and heard it in his voice. Even if I hadn’t, the fact he was willing to give up his beloved car collection told me everything I needed to know.
Plus, if there was one thing I’d learned over the past four months, it was the importance of showing grace—both to myself and to others.
We couldn’t change the past. We could only shape the future, and I wanted a future with him. Together.
I pulled back just enough for us to catch our breaths. “Remember what you said earlier?”
“About the antilock braking system?”
“No.” I released a tiny sigh of exasperation alongside my smile. “You said you loved me.”
He slid his palm down to the nape of my neck. Its heat burned deliciously into my skin. “I said I love you more than anything else in the universe, including Pluto,” he corrected teasingly. “Don’t dilute the poetry of my words.”
“I did that on purpose. I didn’t want to sound repetitive because what I really want to say is that I love you too.” My voice softened. “More than anything else in the universe, including Pluto.”
I’d held back on telling him for so long that releasing the words into the world was its own kind of liberation.
Asher’s breath stuttered for half a beat. He hadn’t pressured me to return the sentiment earlier, nor did he seem to expect it, and that only made me love him more.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me.
“I missed you,” I whispered. My tears had dried, but the emotion remained, swelling and rising behind my ribcage. “So much.”
As upset as I’d been, I’d missed him so fiercely during every second of our separation that he’d haunted my dreams more nights than I cared to admit.
Asher brushed his thumb over my cheek, his touch unbearably tender. “I missed you too, darling.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Take the Jag back from Vincent. He’ll be insufferable with it.”
As much as I appreciated Asher’s commitment to change, I wasn’t going to make him give up his favorite car. It suited him; the saloon didn’t.
Asher laughed, his eyes glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. “Done.”
Then he lowered his head and covered his mouth with mine, and everything—the cars, the people, the catcalls from his teammates—melted away again.
ASHER
