“There you are.” Eve rushed over and enveloped Asa in a tight hug. “I was beginning to worry.”
She squirmed out of Eve’s hold then felt bad at the hurt expression on her friend’s face.
“I know you’re not a touchy-feely kind of gal, but I thought you’d need a hug.”
Stooping to set her umbrella in the plastic-lined container next to the door, Asa muttered an apology. “You’re right. Thank you for being a good friend.” She slipped off her gloves. “I would’ve texted to let you know I’m on my way, but it’s just —”
“It’s just he’s in town and all rational thought was kicked to the curb. Is that it?” Eve stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her ponytail swinging as she shook her head.
“Don’t, Eve.” She clutched her gloves. ”I got over Rhys a long time ago. Jo . . .”
The pity on Eve’s face disappeared, replaced by concern. “Aw, sweetie, I’m sorry. That was bitchy of me.”
Stepping back, just in case Eve wanted to hug her again, Asa stuck her gloves in the pockets of her hoodie. Dark-haired, petite, and curvy, Eve was a year older than Asa’s twenty-two and one of a handful of kids left from their graduating class. The others were smart to leave Willowbrook for bigger and better places. Asa had decided to stay.
It wasn’t only her friends and a job that had kept her here, but she stayed for the piece of property behind Jo’s house. The dirt track gave her the solitude and rush she needed in her life, her own piece of heaven.
“Even if I wasn’t over Rhys, he’d never be interested in me as more than a friend,” she said, watching as Eve put her jacket on. “I’m a one night stand he regrets having. Anyway, he likes tall, beautiful blondes, remember?”
“Oh, and not a smart and pretty Asian gal like yourself, right?”
Asa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. No one called her pretty except for Eve. Other kids had said she was awkward, skinny, and once someone had compared her face to a fairy’s. So what if her cheeks seemed too full, her chin too sharp, and her ears a smidge on the pointy side?
In high school, she was sought after, but it was more for her smarts than her looks. When Rhys’s grandmother had heard Asa was at the top of her class, she asked Asa to tutor him in math. No way would Jo let her grandson fail in a subject that could be important to him later in life when he’d be rich. That’s what Jo had told her.
Bless the old lady for loving and taking in her only grandson after his parents died in a car wreck. A year after he’d moved to Willowbrook, Asa’s parents had bought a small house in town. New place, new state, a fresh start — those were her father’s reasons for their move across the country.
But she knew better. For the chance to get her mother away from her lovers, and to possibly save his marriage, her father had uprooted his family to accept a manager position at the lumber mill. Yes, she detested her mother’s selfishness for breaking apart their family.
A month ago, an invite came in the mail for her mother’s remarriage. The embossed blue and silver invitation, along with the RSVP card, made its way straight to the garbage can, but not before she’d shredded the papers. Her feelings for her mother bordered on resentment and less on love, more so after her father’s death.
It was a good thing she’d moved to San Diego. Having her mother near would’ve made her father’s death more unbearable than what it had been because . . . because at the point of impact, she and her father had argued over her mother. Well, as long as she left Asa alone, she was fine with the remarriage.
Eve’s finger sliding across her forehead had Asa blinking in confusion before she gave her friend a slight smile. Over the years of their friendship, this was Eve’s way to draw her out of her deeps thoughts. With Rhys, he’d tap her nose. God, she missed him.
“What will I do with you now that Jo’s gone? With my out-of-town schedule, I can’t always be there for you, you know?”
Asa straightened her shoulders. “I can take care of myself.”
“I never doubted that,” Eve said with a twinkle in her blue eyes. “But when it comes to men, you’re clueless. Rhys kept you all to himself.”
“He only did that because I was good for his grades,” Asa countered.
“Bullshit. He cared about you.”
“As a friend, Eve, but nothing more. Drop it, okay. Please?”
“Fine. But once I get back, I’m gonna set you up with one of the guys from Ashton.”
Shrugging, she targeted Eve with her best blank stare and got an exasperated sigh in return.
“God, Asa, you’re gonna be one of those unhappy women who will always wonder about the what-if’s in life.” Eve grabbed her bag from the shelf beneath the counter. “I won’t mind if you close up early. They’re forecasting a snowstorm. If that happens, I expect you to stay home. Got it?”
She gave her a two-finger salute. “Yes, mother.”
Eve muffled her laughter with her hand. “You have enough firewood and supplies?”
She didn’t, but she wouldn’t have her friend worry now. Eve had a plane to catch.
“Say hi to Joe for me,” she said, pushing Eve out the door. “And tell him congrats on the new addition.”
Joe was Eve’s big brother. His wife had their first child yesterday, and Eve was flying out to Oakland to visit for a few days.
“An aunt, Eve. I can’t believe it. What next? Marriage?”
Eve snorted while her breaths condensed in the cold air. “The café and my writing take up all of my time. Besides, I’m in no hurry to settle down with one guy. I like playing the field.”
Asa did roll her eyes this time. Of course, Eve loved seeing different guys. Men couldn’t seem to get enough of her and her outgoing personality, which Asa thought bordered on being sweetly obnoxious.
“I take it you and Lucas are currently off?” Asa plowed past the don’t-you-dare-go-there expression on Eve’s face. Oh yes, she’d go there. Payback for all the times Eve had mentioned Rhys’s name the past couple of months.
“Despite his temper, Lucas is a good guy,” Asa said. “You just need to be patient with him. He’s had a rough past.”
“His past has nothing to do with our issues. He’s a jealous sonofabitch, and I can’t stand that.”
The sadness hidden beneath the resentment in Eve’s tone had Asa doing something she didn’t normally do. She gave her friend a hug.
“Be safe and stay out of trouble,” Eve said, squeezing back. “I might be bossy, and sometimes downright pushy, but you’re my best friend. I just want you to be happy.”
Letting go, Asa smiled and said, “Thank you. I want the same for you too.” After a shared look, they erupted into rip-roaring laughter at the too sweet and cheesy moment. “Seriously, though, you’ll be gone for three days. How much trouble can I get into? Plus, Sandy’s here to steer me clear of messes.”
Sandy had moved to Willowbrook two years ago, and the three of them quickly became friends. Occasionally, Asa watched Sandy’s two-year-old son, Chance, when she and the hubby wanted a date night. Between them, they were able to cover the six-to-four shift at the café.
“I’m putting my trust in her.” Eve waved. “Okay, keep an eye on the weather. If it looks iffy, close early.”
Asa nodded, and crisscrossing her arms over her chest to rub at her shoulders, she watched Eve drive off. She was about to head back inside the café, but a pickup truck parked across the street snagged her attention. Jo’s. So Rhys was drowning his grief at the local bar. It shouldn’t be her business what he did anymore, but it still hurt her to know he grieved alone.
Noticing that cold air seeped into the warmth she loved, Asa hurried inside the café, shut the door behind her, and let her gaze sweep over the cozy space.
The walls were painted in her favorite shade — buttercup. Alongside the cash register on her right was a glass case for pastries. A lonely éclair sat waiting for a buyer. The early crowd must’ve come by. Well, if no one came in soon to claim the dessert,
she would stick a dollar and some change in the register and sink her teeth into the piece of heaven herself. She rubbed her hands in anticipation.
Behind the front counter was the espresso machine. That’s where she spent the majority of her time brewing drinks, hot and cold. Next to the espresso machine were two pots of drip coffee kept warm in their thermos. The old folks liked their drinks unflavored and bitter.
In the space in front of the counter, wooden chairs surrounded three sets of tables in a cherry finish. The arrangement made it easy for Asa to chat it up with the regulars.
Mornings were busier while the afternoons gave her a chance to catch her breath and enjoy her favorite part of the café — the books housed on shelves in the back, a mish-mash of items donated by the folks of Willowbrook.
In a town of approximately three hundred, they had a police and fire station, a mayor who worked out of his home, a grocery store and gas station, a bar, a senior center, but no library. The closest one was in Ashton. Out-of-towners considered Willowbrook the boring relative of Ashton.
The clock on the wall chimed. One already. Time to grab a book and hunker down for a slow afternoon. In the back, she ran her finger over the spines of various books, and decided on Emmuska Orczy’s The Scarlet Pimpernel. As she read, she was distracted by what she saw past the wall of windows in the café. The pickup truck was still parked in front of the bar, and gray clouds rolled in.
Darn it, it wouldn’t snow. Since she’d lived in Willowbrook for, oh, six years now, she’d only witnessed snow twice. The three other times news forecasters predicted snow, they had been wrong. Rain had fallen instead. She remembered hearing or reading somewhere that the sky had to be a blanket of white and the temperature to drop below freezing before it would snow.
After setting the book down, she hurried out the door and scrutinized the sky as though it held secrets. Gray, not cottonball white. Yanking the hoodie off, she held it to her chest and closed her eyes. The breeze whispered over her bare arms. Definitely not below freezing. She opened her eyes and glanced at her arms. Yep, no goosebumps.
Feeling a strange tingle on her forehead, she looked up. It was cliché, but time appeared to stop as Rhys eyed her from where he stood in front of Jo’s truck. What was it about the way his gaze shot up and down her body that had her heart beating out of control while her insides clenched with longing? Only he affected her like this.
Deep down, she realized it was pointless to have this reaction to him when he’d never shown a similar interest in her. Sexy Rhys Miles falling for awkward and quiet Asa Chanthavay? Nah. Their hookup at that party was a fluke, a mistake. One night. A year ago, at a party she hadn’t wanted to attend, but did, she lost her virginity to Rhys. Unforgettable for her, but apparently to him, what she gave had meant nothing.
The expression on his face right now must reflect hers — hurt, sadness, and regret. When they were friends, his eyes used to sparkle with mischief while a smile readily graced his handsome face. With Jo gone and their friendship torn, there was no reason for Rhys to return to Willowbrook.
Yes, before he left town for good, she’d move forward and do the right thing. Ask for Rhys’s forgiveness, but not mention his comment at the party. Maybe then she could let go of her feelings for him. And when Eve returned, Asa would accept her offer to arrange a blind date.
Chapter Three
They stared at each other like two angsty teenagers. Rhys kicked at the tire of the pickup truck before he turned his back on Asa and jammed the key in the door’s lock. In the truck, he started the engine, and not caring if gravel flew beneath the tires, he peeled out of town.
If he wasn’t driving, he’d close his eyes and try to forget the hurt and sadness on Asa’s face. Yet, every time he saw her whenever he visited Willowbrook, Rhys was reminded of the day she had accused him of being at fault for her father’s death.
In the rearview mirror, he watched her disappear into the café. Willowbrook. Shit, the last time he was here was three months ago. He’d stayed long enough to celebrate his grandmother’s seventy-first birthday but left town the following day for his home in San Diego, giving Jo the lame excuse he had more training to do.
It wasn’t the training that had him hightailing it home. No, he wanted to avoid running into Asa. Yet, his avoidance of her had cost him more time with his grandmother. Even now he felt bad for leaving so soon.
But back then, his grandmother was fine. Yeah, she had the occasional aches and pains in her joints. And yeah, she complained like hell about growing older, but her complaints were nothing new. Rhys had heard the same things for the last seven years, since he had come to live with her at the age of sixteen.
In front of him, the sky was various shades of gray, upping his concerns regarding the weather report. While he had sipped his beer in the bar, the television screen had held his interest as the weatherman highlighted the trajectory of movement from the south that would later translate into a huge dumping of white crap on Willowbrook.
Dammit! They had to be wrong. It couldn’t snow. He wanted the hell out of town, away from this boring shithole, and back to his crazy life in the warmth of southern Cali. Most of all, he wanted to keep on avoiding Asa Chanthavay for a final time.
It didn’t used to be like this. After he graduated from high school and left Willowbrook, they had remained friends. Their phone calls and texting occurred so often, it was as though they didn’t live in separate states. However a year ago, two significant events in their lives had fractured their friendship.
He told himself if Asa ever asked for his forgiveness for blaming him in her father’s death, he’d give it. But if he forgave her, he would feel obligated to explain why he had made the rude comment about her after they’d slept together at the damn party he hadn’t wanted to go to but did.
At that moment, with her happy in his arms, his love for her evident in the desperate kisses he’d dropped on her lips, Rhys was ready to give up his dreams for her — his Asa.
Scared shitless at the intensity of his emotions, and not ready to give up the dream of a Supercross championship, he had acted like a royal ass. After getting dressed and leaving her in the bedroom’s darkness, he had told one of the guys Asa was a mercy fuck. And worse, he’d said the crude words within hearing distance of the bedroom. Well, fuck him for being an ass.
Shoving his fingers in his hair, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. Forget that night, Miles. The memory started to fade the more he concentrated, but soon their times together from their school years replaced that night.
He remembered the innocence in Asa’s eyes when she had told him she’d never been kissed. Deep in his chest, the sound of her laughter reverberated, kicking his heartbeat into a fast beat. And forever embedded in his mind was the intelligence in her words as she tutored him through a year of math with patience.
In school, she had been the awkward and smart girl who didn’t seem to fit in with any crowd. Being the only Asian family in town hadn’t helped. At first, Rhys felt sorry for her, her loneliness reeling him in the first time they’d met. Yet through the years, her quiet understanding of whom he was and her calming influence kept him in contact with her.
Slumping, he loosened his grip on the steering wheel. Moisture fell from the sky in the form of mist, but it wasn’t snow. How long would she be at the café? With the threat of snow, he worried. She might be independent and smart enough to figure out what to do if her place lost power, but Asa was also stubborn.
Normally, he liked her stubbornness, using it to gain a smile and laughter from her, or a heavy whack on the shoulder when he went too far and annoyed her. But in this instance, her stubbornness gave him more reasons to worry. Knowing her, she probably thought it wouldn’t snow, going by the belief that even the experts were likely wrong.
Damn her! She never listened. It was just like that night, when he had told her he was going to kiss her, and she’d better leave the darkened bedroom fast otherwise they�
�d both be in deep shit for crossing the lines of their friendship.
Instead, she had stayed, fully aware of the consequences as she stood on her toes and kissed him. The sensation of her soft lips rubbing over his was different, almost new, though it hadn’t been his first kiss.
Yet it was his first time with her. When she opened her mouth, he couldn’t rein in his slipping restraint. He had wanted Asa too much, the emptiness inside him growing every time he had kept their contacts to a minimum during competitions, fearful their friendship would be a distraction.
After her father’s death and their fallout, her accusation had hurt and so he had avoided her, thinking time and distance would lessen the pain of her betrayal. But all it did was remind him of how much she meant to him. She was his friend, someone who understood his drive to win, and the only woman he loved.
And she being all that to him, he shouldn’t continue to be a jerk to her by pretending what he had said was never uttered. Yeah, it might be a year too late, and yeah, she might not ever ask for his forgiveness, but apologizing to her for his crass comment was the right thing to do. Maybe then, he could move on, and get over his feelings for her. Too bad he didn’t have the courage yet to approach her.
Sighing, he returned his focus to the weather. From what he remembered, Eve owned the café. If she was a good and concerned friend, she’d send Asa home early. Business wasn’t worth the risk of being trapped in a snowstorm, and business wasn’t worth dying for, unless it was his kind of moneymaker.
Yet, Rhys didn’t ride for the money or the exposure. He competed and risked his neck in honor of his dead mother’s memory, and now, his grandmother’s. They had believed in him while his drunken father had bitched over and over about how riding a dirt bike was a waste of time and of money they didn’t have.
Once his mother realized he was serious about competing, she backed him up one hundred and ten percent, convincing her mother, Jo, to pour her savings into Rhys’s training. By the time he was able to compete professionally, his parents had died in an accident, a one car rollover. Apparently, his father’s blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit.
If Only Page 2