Asher
“No.” I fell into another foreign bed that smelled of a different detergent, downing an entire bottle of water.
“And that’s my final answer, so you can drag your sorry arse to the other side of the floor and lick your wounds in private where I can’t see you.”
Barry and Luke were standing over me, their faces suggesting I was being unreasonable when, in fact, reason was definitely on my side. I didn’t fault Luke for wanting to shag Snowflake. She was, as it turned out, quite shag-able. But if I could ruin something for him, I’d gladly do so.
Three years ago, when I’d gone on tour and Jules had stayed in L.A., Luke—whom I employed and supported, whom I’d grown up with, whom I shared a flat, and a car, and sometimes a toothbrush with—was there to make sure she’d be as close as she p
