Page 24 of Proposal Play
“Of course, sir.”
“See? You’re an addict, too,” I tease.
Teasing him will remind us both that the kiss last week was just for show, and that’s all. I can’t risk being too much for Asher. What would I do without these moments with him?
When Ginger hands Asher a white ceramic dish, he thanks her and then slides it onto my tray. “Here you go,” he says.
Oh. “I thought you were getting that for yourself. You said?—”
My eye falls on his full dish. The nutsdidn’tdisappear into his belly. He got the extra…for me. It’s a small but completely Asher gesture. Afriendlygesture.
“You enabler,” I say with a smile. Clearly, he wants to stay in the friend zone too.
“What can I say? I aim to please,” he says, lifting his glass of champagne.
He’s resetting. This is good. This is exactly what I need. What we both need—a reminder that the kiss didn’t mean anything more for either of us. I know a good way to recalibrate too.
“Plane selfie,” I declare, whipping out my phone. “Speaking of, we still need to plan our big adventure this year.”
He gives me a look like I didn’t just say that. “I told you that last month.”
Oops. “I can’t help it if you’re more on top of things than I am,” I joke.
“I even gave you suggestions.”
Hmm. Maybe he did. “This is sounding vaguely familiar.”
He rolls his eyes. “Airstream glamping. Yoga with pigs. Or visiting the new hot pepper truck in Darling Springs.”
I tap my chin. “Those are all tempting.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “That’s what you said when I texted them to you.”
“I’m nothing if not consistent, then.”
“Take the pic, Maeve.”
“I am definitely on top of our photo album though,” I point out.
“You are,” he concedes.
I’m the keeper of our never-ending pictorial record. I add to it all year long with snaps like this of daily life and then show it to him on our annual Big Adventure trip.
I hold up the camera and lean next to him, my shoulder bumping his. A spark skitters down my chest.
That’s odd.
I don’t think I’ve felt a spark like this with Asher before. Not one that traveled between my thighs. Except…maybe I did after the auction? When we kissed on the street?
But that was a normal byproduct of a kiss. That’s all.
Perhaps this spark is a side effect of selfie-taking? That has to be it. I angle the phone and snap a shot of us in first class, relaxing in cushy seats, enjoying champagne and extra warm nuts.
Our heads touch, and that spark rekindles. But I don’t analyze it this time.
When I put down the phone, I raise my glass to offer a toast. “To this year’s Big Adventure, whatever it might be.”
Lifting his glass, he laughs. “I’ll drink to that. How about we pick when we get back? While we’re tackling the warm nut conspiracy?”