Page 59 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
“Either way, thank you again. I was going to ignore him. I can’t give every arsehole the attention they seek, but a little bump was worth seeing that side of you.”
“Don’t get used to it. I can’t always be around to protect you,” I said, but I couldn’t resist a small smile in return.
His eyes crinkled deeper at the corners. “Noted.”
A long, languorous beat passed between us.
Every time I thought I knew where I stood when it came to him, something happened that threw me off-kilter.
There was no steady ground with Asher Donovan. It was a constant sea of change—frustrating, terrifying, and, as much as I hated to admit it, exhilarating.
All the banked heat we shouldn’t acknowledge thrummed across the tiny high-top table. We?—
“Sorry that took so long.” Carina’s breathless apology doused the moment in ice water.Sorry, my ass.She’d left us alone on purpose, and her grin indicated as much. “The queue took forever.” She slid onto her stool and regarded us with naked interest. “What did I miss?”
“Not much,” I said when Asher remained quiet. His run-in with the man wasn’t my story to tell. “We were just chatting about football.”
“Oh, okay.” Carina seemed oblivious to the tension smoldering around us. “Before I forget, I want to tell you I can’t make it Tuesday. I got a call from my parents while I was in the queue. They made us dinner reservations at Babko that night, so I won’t be able to watch your first rehearsal. I’m so sorry.” Genuine remorse crossed her face. “I really wanted to be there for the first one.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “You won’t be missing much.”
Asher’s brow wrinkled. “What rehearsal?”
Carina flicked a quick glance at me.
Shit.I hadn’t told him about the showcase yet. It wasn’t a secret, and he wasn’tentitledto know, but a stab of guilt pierced my chest anyway.
“I changed my mind about not participating in the RAB showcase,” I admitted. “I spoke with Lavinia, and I’m now the understudy for the lead role inLorena.”
“The lead role?” His eyes sparked with admiration, and an answering warmth drifted through my veins. “That’s brilliant!”
“It’s not a big deal. Like I said, I’m the understudy.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling oddly self-conscious. “Chances are, I won’t get to perform. I’m just there in case the lead gets sick or injured.”
“It’s still exciting. When did you find out?”
The guilt deepened. “Monday.”
Asher’s expression didn’t change, but the barest hint of a pause indicated his confusion.
“I was going to tell you earlier,” I added. “But I, um, forgot.”
I’d wanted to tell him during Monday’s training. But after seeing him with Polina and our subsequent moment in the studio, sharing such an important milestone with him first seemed too dangerous. Too intimate.
So I hadn’t.
Nevertheless, a pinprick of guilt pierced my skin at the hurt in his eyes. Not only had I not told him, but I probably wouldn’t have brought it up at all had Carina not mentioned rehearsals.
“That’s okay.” Asher smiled, the flash of hurt smoothing into one of indifference. The boulder sank deeper to my toes. “I’m just glad you’re participating.” He checked his watch. “I have to run. I have an online interview in an hour.” He stood and slid a fifty-pound note onto the table. “Next round’s on me. As a thank-you for letting me crash your girls’ night.”
“That’s way too much for drinks here,” Carina protested.
“Three rounds then,” Asher said easily. He glanced at me.
I remained quiet, trying to reason away my niggle of disappointment at his departure. I hadn’t wanted him to join us, so why was I upset about him leaving?
He hesitated, then added, “My friend’s throwing a party in Neon’s VIP lounge later tonight. If you guys are free, you should drop by.”
“We’re not big clubbers,” I said before Carina committed us to something neither of us wanted.