Was he indirectly asking whether I wanted to continue hanging out? Would I come off as too needy if I suggested another activity for us instead of going home? Or was I overthinking a completely innocent question?
I wished I could text Carina for advice, but then it would look like I was ignoring him.
“Yes, please,” I finally said. I had to change regardless. I bought a dress at the hotel’s boutique yesterday, but I’d been wearing the same outfit for almost two days.
“Okay.”
There. That carefully neutral tone. Was it my imagination, or was it covering up a touch of disappointment?
“But…I’m pretty hungry,” I ventured. “Maybe we should grab a bite to eat first?”
“That’s a good idea,” he said quickly. “I know a great Indian place. It’s not on the way to your flat, but I can drop you off and pick you up later if you’re interested in checking it out. It’s a bit too early for dinner anyway.”
My heart ricocheted in my chest. That sounded awfully close to a date. “Okay.”
“Okay.” This time, a smile accompanied his reply.
When Asher dropped me off, we agreed to meet again in two hours. It was enough time for me to take a quick bath, indulge in some gentle yoga, and get ready.
After fifteen minutes of staring at my closet and several frantic texts to Carina and Brooklyn, I settled on a cute top-and-skirt combo. I’d just finished my makeup when Asher returned, freshly showered and smelling like a delicious mix of soap and aftershave.
His appreciative gaze carved a trail up my legs and neck before settling on my face. Little fireflies danced over my skin, lighting me up.
“You ready?” The deep timbre of his voice ghosted down my spine.
“Yes.” I tamped down the flutters and followed him to his car, where he pulled out a baseball cap and black-rimmed glasses.
“Disguise,” he explained.
“Does that actually work?” It was so simple. It felt like Superman disguising himself as Clark Kent with similar glasses.
“You’d be surprised. Most people don’t expect to run into anyone famous on the street, so if you’re low-key enough, you can slip right by.”
“I hate to tell you this, but have you looked in a mirror?” I asked archly. “Your face is not slipping by anyone.”
Even if he weren’t famous, Asher was gorgeous enough to turn heads everywhere he went.
“Is that your way of calling me good-looking?” He sounded entirely too pleased about that.
“You know you are. Also, you get one compliment per day. Don’t try to fish for more.”
“Noted.” Laughter glimmered beneath his voice. “I’ll wait until midnight to fish again.”
Despite my skepticism, he was right. Most people didn’t spare us a second glance when we parked and walked to the restaurant. A group of female uni students did a double take as we passed, but I couldn’t tell whether that was because they recognized him or simply thought he was fit. Either way, they didn’t approach us.
The restaurant was packed for dinner, but we were able to snag a corner table near the kitchen. Since Asher was the expert here, I let him order for the both of us.
“Noah told me about this place,” he said. “Kind of embarrassing for a Londoner to get food recs from an American, but the food is so good, I can’t be mad.”
“Noah?”
“Wilson. Our goalkeeper.”
An image surfaced of a tall, scowly man with dirty blond hair and blue eyes. Noah. Of course. There weren’t many Americans in the Premier League, so his signing with Blackcastle had been a big deal a few years ago.
“Are you guys close?” I ripped off a piece of naan and dipped it in chutney.
Vincent constantly partied with the team, but Asher obviously wasn’t part of those nights out.
“I wouldn’t say we’re best friends, but I talk to him and Adil the most out of anyone at the club. Adil’s one of our midfielders,” he added. “They’re the only ones who don’t act weird around me when Vincent’s there.”
I could only imagine. The team’s loyalties must’ve been split between their captain and their lead scorer.
“So who do you talk to when you need advice or have big news to share?” I asked. “Besides your family.”
Asher shrugged. “Depends on the issue. If it’s PR related, I talk to Sloane, my publicist. If it’s football related, I talk to Coach. Noah and Adil, too. They give good advice when they’re not being idiots.”
“I’m not talking about business stuff,” I said gently. “For example, if I hadn’t been with you on Saturday, who would you have told about your father’s heart attack?”
He stared at me.
The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness until he averted his gaze. “I don’t know,” he said. “No one, I guess.”
An iron fist squeezed my heart.
His old team hated him, his new team was wary of him, and everyone else probably either sucked up to him or wanted to use him.
I couldn’t imagine how lonely that must feel. Asher was surrounded by fans and hangers-on every day, but sometimes, people felt the loneliest in a crowd.
