He smiles at me, and I know it’s real. Because Asher is as stubborn as he is weird. You have to earn his smiles.

“Not many people have the guts to tell the story you told, Asher.”

He twists his body towards me, and sighs. “I’m not the brave one. I was just the one that had the means and the platform. It’s the women who are brave.”

“You did an amazing thing.”

“I’d like to think anyone could have done it.”

“I’m sure a lot of people could have,” I say. “But not everyone was willing to put their career—or their relationship with their father—on the line.”

Asher groans and drops his head to the back of the couch.

“Have you talked to him?”

“Our lawyers have talked,” he laughs. “He’s suing me for slander, which is hilarious considering the amount of legal documents we have proving what a manipulative prick he is.”

“I’m sorry.” I close the gap between us. Literally and physically. I place my hand on his knee, and he doesn’t miss a beat when he intertwines his fingers with mine.

“I’m not,” he says. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t have done it sooner. I’m not sorry our relationship is over.”

“He didn’t deserve to have you in his life.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“Clearly, she’s a smart lady,” I say. “What’s happening with Levi?”

He rolls his eyes. “He’s out on bail until his hearing,” he says. “But they revoked his passport, so he can’t flee the country.”

Sometimes our legal system is a complete joke.

“Where do you go from here?” I ask. “Will you keep working for Ana?”

“I have a few meetings after the holidays with some media outlets.”

“You want to do more writing?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s never been my dream to write press releases and moderate interviews. I’d rather be doing something good. Making an impact, y’know?”

“I get it,” I say. “Life’s too short to not do what you love.”

Asher flashes me another one of his smiles, and I have to bite my tongue to avoid making a noise that definitely isn’t meant for Jesus’ birthday. In fact, someone should throw some holy water in my face.

I’m embarrassed by how gone for him I am.

Watching someone open a box of donuts should not be borderline erotic.

“For the record, the only donuts I’d ever say no to are jelly filled,” I tell him.

“I’m offended,” he says, pulling out a sugared donut that is very much filled with raspberry jam.

“Ugh, heathen.” I grab a chocolate frosted that’s covered in red and green sprinkles, and take a bite. This time I can’t help the noise I make. Jesus will understand. “These are amazing.”

“They came highly recommended by Chloe.”