One True Thing (13 page)

Michelle was cool, no doubt about it, but she

wasn’t my Rue… even if he
had
just laughed at me

for five minutes straight.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. I’d been

thinking about it since I’d walked out of Archer

and Asher’s apartment the night before, and I still

didn’t have a clue, only more and more questions.

The biggest one being: did Asher actually want me

too? Was he feeling the same things I did

whenever I looked at him?

“What do you
want
to do?” Rue asked,

picking up his own glass of wine and swirling the

contents. “If you could pick one of them without

any consequences, who would you pick?”

“Asher.” The answer flew from my lips

without a moment’s pause. I groaned helplessly.

“But I don’t even know him, Rues. I don’t know if

he feels the same way. Maybe I’m going nuts.

Maybe I imagined all of those weird feelings. I’ve

never had that happen before. What if it’s some

crazy fluke?”

Rue shrugged a shoulder and reached up to

brush black and pink bangs from his forehead.

“Only one way to find out. If you want Asher,

maybe you should go for it.”

“But what about the fact that I’ve been sort of

seeing his brother? I mean, he caught me making

out with Archer on their couch.”

“‘Sort of seeing’ is a
lot
different than

actually dating, Dustball. You and Archer haven’t

had sex. You didn’t make any commitments to each

other. And from what you’ve told me, well, he

kinda sounds like a prick.”

“
Rue
.”

“I know, I know.” Rue waved his hand. “I’m

trying not to be judgmental since I haven’t even

met the guy… but last time I didn’t like a guy you

were dating, it turned out he was abusing you. So

maybe I’m a little protective now. You’re my best

friend. I can’t help it.”

“Archer isn’t Gary, though. He might be a

little, I don’t know, arrogant, maybe. But he

doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would ever

hit me.”

“I bet you thought that same thing about Gary

at the beginning.”

I sighed softly, frustrated. I knew Rue

worried about me. I knew it’d made him angry that

I hadn’t confided in him when Gary first started

smacking me around. But Gary was on the other

side of the country and probably still behind bars,

and there was no way I would ever let another guy

do that to me again.
No way.
“Seriously, Rue? Can

we not? I’m tired of talking about him.”

Rue reached across the table and squeezed

my hand. “Sorry, Dust. I’m being dumb. I have no

proof this Archer guy is anything like Gary. He

does seem kind of conceited, though. Just… be

careful, okay?”

After a moment, I squeezed his hand back and

gave him a little smile. “I will.”

“ARE you sure you don’t want to go over to New

Grounds? They have good food too.”

Lane glanced sideways at me, his expression

puzzled. “But we’re already here. What’s wrong

with The Banana Leaf? I’m dying for their turkey

pesto.”

“Oh… no, nothing’s wrong. I just like the

coffee at New Grounds better.” I forced my most

casual smile. “It’s fine. I can grab a latte after

work.”

I reached out and pulled the door open,

leading the way into the café. Honestly, I preferred

the coffee at The Banana Leaf to New Grounds, but

I’d been planning to avoid the place for a while on

the off chance that Archer or Asher might be there.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see either one of

them just yet, even after a couple of days of silence

from Archer. I didn’t particularly feel like sharing

that bit of info with Lane, though. Guess it served

me right for agreeing to go to dinner with him. I

knew he never wanted to go anywhere else, but I’d

unthinkingly said yes while distracted by a client,

and afterward I’d felt too bad to tell him I’d

changed my mind.

As Lane placed his order, I looked around the

café on the pretense of searching for a table. When

I didn’t see a sign of either twin, I breathed a sigh

of relief. Okay. Potential awkwardness averted.

What were the chances, anyway? I’d seen them a

handful of times, but I’d been to The Banana Leaf

dozens of others without running into them there.

The odds were definitely in my favor. So why was

I feeling so nervous?

It didn’t take long for my question to be

answered. It seemed to go right along with my luck

in general that he would show up the one time I

wasn’t desperately wishing for him to be there.

I felt him the moment he walked in. Sounds

strange, I know, but it was true all the same. I was

halfway into my Greek salad when I sensed a

change in the air, a tingle, a sudden rush of

awareness. I glanced across the café, unsurprised

to see Asher settling into one of the booths that

lined the front windows. And I knew it was him

without even a flicker of doubt.

He hadn’t noticed me yet, but it was a small

place. I sat there, breath held, expecting him to

look up any minute, hoping whatever it was that

had alerted me to his presence would do the same

for him. Anxious or not, I wanted his eyes on me. I

wanted to see his face when he realized I was

there.

No matter how hard I stared, though, he didn’t

even look my way. He sat there toying with his

phone, completely oblivious, until a tall, skinny

redhead entered the café and approached his table.

Asher smiled and stood long enough to accept her

hug and kiss on the cheek. My stomach tensed, but I

kept watching anyway. I couldn’t say why. Maybe

I had a previously undiscovered penchant for self-

torture.

“What is it?” Lane asked. “Dusty?”

His voice snapped me out of the daze I’d

slipped into. I blinked in surprise. “Huh?”

Lane glanced over his shoulder, following the

direction I’d been staring in. “Oh,” he said. “That

guy. Didn’t you talk to him the other week? I know

he may be hot, but he is
such
a man-slut. Seriously,

I’ve heard some stuff about him. Suffice it to say,

you rarely see him with the same person twice.

Men, women, doesn’t matter. He gets around.”

I swallowed hard, trying to fight down the

stupid, achy lump in my throat.
Oh, God, why am I

getting so worked up over a complete stranger?
I

didn’t have an answer for that question, but it was

true all the same. My palms grew damp with

sweat. A wave of queasiness washed over me,

startling in its intensity.
Jesus. He’s not even my

boyfriend. Why does it matter if he’s here with

some girl?

I didn’t know why. But it did matter. It did.

“I’ll be right back.” I slid off my seat without

waiting for Lane to respond, carefully avoiding the

section of the café where Asher was seated as I

made my way to the restroom.

Once there, I splashed a bit of water on my

face, thankful I’d skipped putting on any makeup

before leaving home that morning. I patted my face

dry with a couple of paper towels and leaned

heavily against the sink.
Pull yourself together,

Dusty. Pull it together.

I couldn’t understand what was going on with

me. I’d never felt anything like this for any other

guy, not even Gary, who at a little over a year had

been my longest relationship. At one time, in the

beginning, things had been great between us. But

even then, the feelings I’d had for him paled in

comparison to the longing I felt for Asher.

I’d heard it said once that desire only turned

into yearning when there was pain involved.

Without the hurt, it was only want. I’d wanted

before. I’d wanted Erik, once upon a time, but not

like this. What I felt for Asher, it was yearning. I’d

never said a word to him. He’d barely even

touched me. But I couldn’t describe the feeling any

other way.

“I’m so screwed,” I said to my reflection.

“Totally screwed.” My mirror-self stared back at

me but didn’t have any advice. Sighing, I turned

toward the door, only to have to dodge sideways

when it suddenly flew inward.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Asher’s voice died midsentence, and we

stared at each for an eternal, silent moment before

I regained my composure and started to go around

him.

“Wait,” he said, his hand shooting out to

grasp my upper arm. His fingers were gentle, his

grip light enough that I could have broken free if

I’d wanted to.

I couldn’t bring myself to move. In fact, I

barely stopped myself from shuddering at his

touch. It was everything I remembered from the

last time.

“Look,” he murmured, his brown eyes

searching my face. “I know we don’t know each

other at all, but you seem like a sweet guy. If

you’re looking for commitment, you won’t get it

from Archer. My brother, he… he doesn’t do

relationships, okay?”

I blinked up at him. Of all the things I’d

imagined him saying to me, a warning about his

brother was nowhere on the list. I shrugged off his

hand and stepped back. It was obvious that

everything I’d been feeling was entirely one-sided.

He wasn’t looking at me with desire or anything

even close to longing. At best he looked mildly

concerned. It irritated me more than I thought

possible.

“We’re not serious,” I snapped. “I’ve only

been out with him twice. But it’s not like you have

much room to talk, is it? Can’t the same be said

about you?”

Asher’s brows drew together in obvious

confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard about your reputation,” I told him.

“Isn’t what you do just as bad?”

For a second, Asher looked startled. Then

something flashed across his face—sadness,

disappointment, I couldn’t say what exactly. All I

knew was it made my stomach hurt to see it.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little harder. “Well,

sometimes you do what you have to.”

I didn’t know what to make of that, but before

I could say anything, he reached into his pocket

and withdrew a slim leather wallet. He pulled an

embossed card from inside and pressed it into my

hand. “Here. Just take it… in case you ever need

anything.”

When my fingers curled around the card,

accepting it, he nodded briefly and brushed past

me.

I remembered Lane, who was waiting for me

out in the dining area and probably wondering if

I’d drowned in the toilet or something. I forced my

legs into action and left the restroom, heading back

to my table without really paying attention to

where I was going. My eyes were focused on the

card. There were only three things on it: a phone

number, an e-mail address, and his name, Asher

Kyriakides. No job title, no business information. I

didn’t know what to make of it, or of him, but our

encounter had left me more than a little unsettled. I

had a feeling I’d messed up, hurt him somehow,

though I couldn’t say why. Somehow, deep down, I

knew it was true.

I groaned inwardly and shook my head.
Way

to blow it, Dusty. Good job.

Asher

I FELT like shit. I felt judged and dirty and, well,

like shit. There weren’t too many other ways to

describe the way my stomach twisted every time I

thought about it. The most recent encounter with

Dusty hadn’t been sitting well for days. So he

wasn’t
really
with Archer. As far as I knew they

were only playing around, but somehow Dusty

knew about the porn. Archer’s dumb ass had

probably told him, and that was enough for him not

to want to be with me either—at least if I could

guess by the judgmental look on his face back at

the café. And that kind of annoyed me. Well, it

hurt, because for the few brief moments of our

acquaintance, I thought I could see myself with

him, but hurt had turned into annoyance and had me