“More, please.” Jenny wiggled her glass. “Or just give me the bottle and a straw.”

Molly rolled her eyes toward the kitchen where Asher could be heard ordering pizza. “What just happened between you two?”

Jenny shrugged. “Same thing that always happens. He flirts, walks away, and I’m left looking silly with a sad crush.”

“That’s not what happened. I can tell that much.” Molly topped off Jenny’s glass and sat on the other end of the couch. “What’d he make up his mind about?”

She took a long sip of the wine, not bothering to enjoy it. “No idea.”

“With the way you’re draining that wine glass, I’d say that’s a lie.”

Jenny tilted her head and knew she blushed. “Maybe a small one.”

“The wine is helping?”

“A little.” She swallowed another massive drink. “A lot. I don’t know.”

“Better watch out, that wine’s going to hit you fast on an empty stomach.” Molly picked up the remote and skimmed through their DVR.

Nothing looked good. Jenny could still feel Asher’s arms around her, and the scent of his cologne lingered on her shirt. Cable reruns weren’t going to be any form of distracting entertainment. One minute turned into five minutes, then fifteen, and Jenny had no idea what had been on the television. All she could picture was his arms around her.

“Molls,” she whispered like he might be hanging around the corner and not ordering pizza or discussing national security or whatever he was doing on the phone in their kitchen. “He said he’s ‘done pretending.’ What does that mean?”

Molly’s smile went as wide as her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Jenny chewed on the inside of her mouth. “He had me up against the wall.”

“He what? The wall?” Molly’s jaw hung open, and she inspected the wall like there might be evidence of the encounter. “No way.”

“I’m being serious.” Jenny rubbed her temples. “Why did he do that? I’m totally reading into that, right?”

“Shoot, Jenny. What’s there to read into? A man presses you against the wall and says he’s done pretending? For years, I’ve been saying it’s only a matter of time. He’s all book smart and politically savvy, but the guy is obtuse when it comes to finding a decent woman.” Molly kicked her leg off the couch and knocked the book Asher had placed on the table to the floor. The latest People magazine was front and center. “Case in point, that couldn’t possibly have been a serious thing.”

They both knew that there was a picture of Asher with an A-list actress who’d fumbled through an E! interview, unable to recall how many states the US had. She and Molly had replayed that a hundred times.

Asher walked in. “Pizza’s ordered. Should be here in a hot minute.” He glanced at the book on the floor and the magazine they stared at. He arched an eyebrow and gave half a smile. “Always up to no good.” He tossed the book back over the cover and winked. “You doing okay over there, Jenny?”