Page 40 of The Love Penalty
“Oh, um… yeah.” I force a smile and follow him through that door, my heart pounding like a bass drum as I step out of Asher’s man cave and into his inner sanctum.
CHAPTER 18
ASHER
I’m still kind of reeling that Lani’s even here. Playing it cool when she walked into my room and then basically apologized was fucking hard. I couldn’t believe it.
She’s here.
Of her own volition.
She wanted to hang with me again. She came all the way to Hockey House to initiate this connection.
And now she’s walking into my room. When I first suggested it, she went kind of pale, and for a second, I thought she was about to bolt again. But my little flight risk surprised me yet again, and now she’s hovering next to my neatly made bed while I proudly point out a smaller bookshelf dedicated to my Harry Potter obsession.
Is it lame that I’m so into this magical world?
Probably.
But those books got me through some shitty years in boarding school, and I will forever be grateful to J. K. Rowling.
Lani’s lips rise into a wide grin as she moves around my bed and crouches down beside the shelf.
“Wow.” She fingers my Harry, Hermione, and Ron Pop! Figures, then picks up my wand, casts a little spell, and laughs at herself while I drink her in like she’s the most beautiful thing in this world.
Because she is.
That smile.
Her playful laughter as she picks up my Goblet of Fire replica.
I want to tell her that I’ve been gifted most of this stuff, but it’d be a lie. I’ve been buying myself a couple things a year, hiding them away in my room so the guys won’t hassle me for my obsession. All of the stuff that I deem to be the coolest is in my man cave—comic books, video games, my signed Gretzky jersey. But my trivia board games, my Lord of the Rings figurines, and my coveted Harry Potter collection—yeah, that stuff stays in here with me. And now she’s seeing it. I’m letting her into my inner sanctum.
“Oh wow! You’re collecting the illustrated editions!” She carefully pulls out Chamber of Secrets and thumbs through the pages. “Aren’t these stunning!” Her eyes bulge. “I’d love these on my shelf.” She lets out a snort laugh. “I’d love a shelf! There’s just no room in our dorm for extra things like this. My books are stored in a box under my bed, which is very sad.” She puts on a pout, and I feel like I’m seeing a real version of Lani that she doesn’t even realize she’s showing me.
No wonder Caroline always goes on about how great she is.
This woman crouching by my bookshelf is unchecked, unhindered… carefree. I saw glimpses of her at the quiz night and once or twice in Denver. I like it.
Shit, I really like her.
A lot.
I just stand there watching her admire my stuff. She slides the book back onto the shelf, then notices something behind me.
“A piano.” She pops up with a grin. “You’ve got your own piano!”
“Well, it’s not mine. My aunt and uncle asked me to store it for them, and I didn’t want it getting damaged, so I keep it in here.”
“And you never play it?”
She brushes past me, her luscious curves setting my arm on fire as she squeezes past. It takes everything in me not to snatch her wrist and drag her back against me. I want to feel her lips again. I want to kiss a trail down her chin, licking a path from her collarbone to that valley between her tits.
She’s got a great rack. It’s full and luscious. Those fun bags could find a happy home in my hands. Or my hands would be fucking happy, anyway. My whole body would.
She is one fine woman.
And she’s sitting on my piano stool right now, her fingers tentatively touching the keys. She plays a few chords like she’s reminding herself.