Chapter 116: Penny
The second we step back into the main lodge, we’re hit with a wall of heat, sound, and voices shouting over one another.
The living room is a full scene–music pumping, bass low and insistent, some girls half dancing, half chatting in a circle by the fireplace. They’in in leggings and fuzzy rocks, swaying to the beat, drinks in hand. A couple of prys are throwing a football tryoss the vajßted reiting like they’ve forgotten they’së surrounded by expensive glass and custom woodwork.
“Someone’s gonna berak a lang,” 1 monaur..
Asher buffs a soft laugh behind me.
We head toward the kitchen, which looks even bigger close–stone countertops, iron light fixtures hanging from thick wooden beams, and a masshe island that stretches across the center like it could seat an entire team. It’s bustling, bodies packed elbow–to–ellow at everyone attenhle their own pizzas with the most Instagram–worthy spread I’ve ever seen: battle bowl of cheese, herbs, meds, veggies, sauces. Everything’s labeled. There’s mum truïde oil.
of course.
“Grab a dough,” someone calls out. “Build your masterpiece.”
Tyler jumps ahead, already relling up his sleeves like he’s training for a culinary death match. I take one of the little dough balls and start fattening it with my palmes on the cold marble surface. Asher steps up beside me, his sleeves already pushed back to his forearms, quiet and calman he works his dough like he’s done it a hundred times.
“You cook?” I ask without looking up.
“A little,” he says. “I picked up a few tricks and recipes over the years. Stuff you can eat with one hand.”
“Why one hand!”
“Because the other one usually holds a weapon,” he says casually.
I blink. He looks at me, sticks, and tums back to his dough,
Right.
I layer my pizza with tomato sauce, then fresh mozzarella, fe slices of tomato, bail, a sprinkle of rosemary, and some garlic oil. Tyler’s going full chaos with sausage, pepperoni, and pineapple, which should be illegal.
Asher’s pizza is deliberate simple sauce, shaved parmesan, cracked
Pet, fresh spinach, and a drizzle of oil. Minimalist. Intense. Like him.
We slide the pizzas into the big wood–burning oven built right into the stone wall. It glows orange inside, heat licking up the curved dome like a flame
about to rear
“Wanna soda?” a voice says next to me.
“Max” I smile. “Sure,”
He nods, then turns to Aabber, “Beer?”
“Sure, thanks,” Asher says simply, brushing flour off his hands.
“Tyler?” Max
Tyler doesn’t even look up. “I’m good”
“Alright.”
1/3
Chapter 116: Penny
Mastura to go, but Tyler matten something under his breath.
“What was that?” Max asks, pausing.
“Nothing.” Tyler say
says boulet, telling his eyes. “Didn’t realize we needed waiters here.”
The tension rings like a live weite
“Ty,” I say, frowning “What’s your problem?”
He shaug. “No problem”
“Seriously?” I turn to Max. “I’m so sorry.”
Max shrugs, totally unbothered. “Don’t be. He’s always like
He’s not. It
then stop. Because he is. Apparently. With Max and the football team.
Tyler leaves without a wood to go chat with Jo and some other guys on the other side of the kitchen.
Mas comes back a minute later with a can of Sprite and a cold beer, banding them off without a word. His hand brushes mine for a second, and he leans in just slightly
“Forget whatever you may hear,” he says, vuite low. “Try to have this weekend, okay?”
He gives m me a quick one armed hug–friendly but warm–then disappears to go play catch with some guys.
I watch him go still confused.
“What was that about? Asher asks beside me
“I haven’t known Max that long,” I admit, “But he’s been kind of weird lately Cryptic.”
Asher’s watching him too now, his jaw tight. “How
“He told me to be careful and Tyler. Said a lot of people on his team don’t like him.”
Asher doesn’t respond just noch once, slowly. Absorbing it.
“Anyway,” I say, trying to change the subject. “Tute to get the pizzas.”
Asher steps forward, pull the door of the oven open like it’s nothing, and sides each pizza nut with the paddle like he’s done this his whole life. Mine is polden and bubbling at the edges. His looks like a magazine cover
“He nods to Tyler across the room. “Yours is ready.”
Tyler lifts a hand lazily and mouths that he’ll be there shon
I’m still blowing on a too–hot slice when I hear a new voice.
I look up.
She’s tall, blonde, wearing a red sweater that fits just right enough, with big hazel eyes and glossed lips. I recognize her from the dance–circle by the Freplace. She’s smiling but it’s not at me.
“What’s your name?” she asks Asher, siding in a little closer.
Chapter 116: Penny
He looks at her. “Asher.”
“Strong name,” she says, holiling out her hand. “Tu Kıyla.”
He shakes it. Polite. Nothing more.
“You’ve got a strong grip,” she adds with a giggle. “I like that.”
I set my pizza down slowly.
“Are you, like… staying in the main house?” she asks, brushing her hair off her shoulder.
say you could’ve stayed with me.”
“Aw, really? That sucks. I was gonna say
She laughs. Touches his arm.
-you!
here with anyone? Anything I can do for you, maybe?
My jaw tightens,
“I’m good,” Asher says, voice even. Cool. But his fingers curl slightly around the edge of the counter
“Are you
stire?” she says, biting her lip. “I’ve got extra space. And extra blankets,”
I want to scream.
Or maybe laugh.
Or maybe launch my pizza ut her perfect glossy mouth.
Instead, I just breathe.
Because I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t
And yet…
Asher basn’t looked at me once during the whole exchange. But I feel it–tension, coiled and sharp/humming under his skin.
And I can’t help wondering:
If I touched his arm like that…..
Would be move?
