“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?”

“Stop messing with me, Ash.”

“And miss a night with my two favorite ladies? Never.” Asher dropped in the middle of the couch. His arms spanned behind both of them as he leaned back. “What are we watching?”

Molly topped off her glass of wine. “Actually, I have a headache.” The doorbell rang. “That was fast. I’ll get it, grab a slice and my glass, and head to bed. Nothing better for a headache than pizza and vino. You paid for this already, right, Ash?”

“Yup.” He didn’t shift to the empty side of the couch.

Holy shit. Jenny wanted to hug and strangle Molly. Don’t leave me alone with him. I’m not sure of my next move.

“Night.” A laidback Asher leaned forward, letting his hand drag over her shoulders, then grabbed the empty wine glass. He filled it to an appropriate level, unlike Jenny’s monster glasses. “Feel better, Molls.”

Molly brought the pizza to the coffee table, grabbed a slice without a plate, and left the box on the table.

This isn’t at all awkward. And by not at all, all Jenny could think of was yes, this was obvious and awkward. The big, pink elephant in the room had donned a tutu and was dancing with sparklers in hand.

She gulped her wine. “Molly doesn’t really have a headache.”

What? Shut up, Jenny! Her nerves made the room shrink. She couldn’t take a stabilizing breath and had no idea what uncensored line would fall from her lips next.

Asher shut off the television, turned, and raked a penetrating gaze over her while sipping his wine. Her nipples grew tight, and she shivered to her toes. The room was too quiet.

Finally, he swirled his glass and set it down. “I know she doesn’t have a headache.”