I look like a trainwreck—if the train reversed over me at least twelve times and then once more for good luck. I’m pretty sure I’m dead.

“You’re late,” he says when I open the door.

I check my watch. “It’s 9:03.”

“Which is not nine o’clock.”

I sigh and launch my overnight bag into the backseat of his Range Rover and then myself into the front, which was definitely not made for people with stubby legs. I didn’t even know he owned a car, but the least surprising thing ever is that the car is a Range Rover.

Asher is nothing if not predictable.

I have him down to a science.

That’s why I’m not surprised to see a half-eaten bagel unwrapped on his lap. There are crumbs scattered over his thighs and cream cheese smudged into the corners of his mouth. He looks over at me mid-chew and adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. His glare is shielded by a pair of wayfarers.

“Here.” He tosses a bagel at me, which would have been a sweet gesture if he didn’t, y’know, throw it at me.

“I certainly hope this is bacon, egg, and cheese on an untoasted everything.”

It is a bacon, egg, and cheese on an untoasted everything.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“There are always two bagels in the bag,” he says. “I assume the other atrocity is yours.”

“I’m offended.”

“Your untoasted bagel is what’s offensive.”

I’m starving, so I’m not about to get into the Bagel Debate of the Century with the Double-Toasted Weirdo. I unwrap the rest of the parchment and take a bite. My head hits the back of the seat as I let out a long sigh.

Nothing has ever tasted this good.

“Drink this.” This time it’s a lemon-lime sports drink that he flings at me.

“Asher, I’m starting to think you like me.”

“The thought of driving two hours with you complaining about a hangover is literally my worst nightmare,” he says. “I’m trying to save us both a headache.”

“Joke’s on you because my head literally feels like someone took a sledgehammer to it.”

He lifts a cup of coffee out of the cup holder. Thankfully, he doesn’t share his usual careless whimsy with scalding hot beverages and hands it to me like a civilized human being.

“You really know the way to a girl’s heart.”

He scoffs.

“Honestly, Asher,” I say, looking over at him as he checks his sideview mirrors before pulling out. “You didn’t have to do what you did for me last night. I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”

He takes this opportunity to bite into his bagel. “So, you’re not upset I ruined all the sexcapades you had planned with your boy toy?”