She eyed him.

“What?” he said, still amped up from the escape.

“Nothing,” she said, tone careful. “That’s just the second time you’ve alluded to high school Ash wanting high school me.”

“Oh.”

“So, was that a thing?”

God, he was off his game tonight. He needed to get his filter back in place. “A thing?”

The air in the truck had shifted, the silliness sucked out through the open windows. “Yeah. A thing. Did you want me that way back then?”

He stared ahead at the yellow line in the center of the road, his grip tightening on the wheel. An internal panic was trying to zip his lips shut, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. “At points.”

“At points? At what point?” she pressed. “We shared a bed a lot, Ash. You always told me I was like a sister to you.”

He counted the road signs, trying to get his head together. One. Two. Three. “No, I never said I saw you like a sister. You were the one who used to say that. I just didn’t correct you.”

She inhaled a sharp breath. “What?”

He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at the direction this was going. “But it wasn’t like what you’re thinking. The bed thing wasn’t some big scheme. We were friends first. I didn’t start out wanting you. It was just something that…developed.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “How long, Ash?”

“Does it matter?” He wished like hell they could talk about something else, anything else.

“Yes. It matters.”

He glanced over at her. “About two years.”

“Two years?” she asked, a stunned expression on her face. “You liked me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

He blew out a breath and looked back to the road. “What would’ve been the point? I knew you didn’t think of me that way. Plus, I didn’t want to mess up the friendship. So I waited, thinking maybe one day you’d see me in a different light. But then you got with Graham, and well…” He flexed his hands against the steering wheel. “I saw what you looked like in love. I realized I’d never had a shot.”

“Ash…” The word was soft, almost confused.

“It’s fine,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Stereotypical teenage crush. The geek lusting over the popular girl who sees him like a brother. I was such a cliché, I could’ve been a character on one of those WB teen shows you used to watch. It’s embarrassing.”

“But that night we slept together,” she said as if not hearing him. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize that you felt…”

She let the words trail off. He wasn’t going to fill them in with the truth: that I was in love with you. “That night was a mistake. We were both out of our heads. It had nothing to do with my silly crush.”

She sat back in her seat, looking shell-shocked. “I didn’t know you liked me. That night… God, I used you. I said Graham’s name. And it was your first… Jesus, Ash.” She turned to him, a horrified expression on her face. “I’m so sorry.”