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“They were right.” I hugged my knees to my chest.

He inched even closer, stretching one of his legs out behind my back and sliding the other leg under my bent knees. “What if,” he said, “you stay in your bubble of protection and I climb in there with you?”

“I think there might be room,” I said, my shoulder against his chest now.

He wrapped one arm around my back and the other joined my arms around my knees. I let myself relax against him.

“Areyouscared?” I asked softly.

“Terrified.”

We locked eyes. His were gorgeous and sincere, just like he was. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the world’s best hugger?”

“If I say yes, will you still want to kiss me?”

“Who says I want to kiss you?”

“Your eyes are telling me, Wren. Finally.”

“Then why aren’t you kissing me?” I asked.

“Because you’re still deflecting.”

I stretched up and pressed my lips against his, my hands grabbing hold of his shoulders. His lips were soft and full, and an immediate buzz of pleasure crawled up my spine.

Asher gasped in surprise, like I’d caught him off guard.

I pulled back. “I thought you were expecting that.”

“I assumed you needed a few more rounds of sarcastic deflection first.”

“You must be the one who needs that,” I said.

He shook his head twice, then his lips were on mine again. His hand left my knees and found its way to my waist, bringing me closer. I shifted to face him and he pulled me onto his lap, deepening the kiss. My skin was hot yet covered in goose bumps. We both moved to our knees and then our feet and then he was lowering me onto a couch, all while kissing me. I tried to protest our new seating arrangement, but with his lips on mine, and his thumb circling the exposed skin on my side, I found I didn’t care. My brain hadn’t been this empty and my skin hadn’t been this tingly in a long time.

“You’re even better at kissing than hugging,” I said between kisses.

“Nobody has told me that before,” Asher said, smiling against my lips.

“Good. You’re no longer allowed to kiss anyone else.”

“I only want to kiss you.”

“Asher Jordan Linden,” Asher’s mom said, coming into the room. We pulled apart. “What are you doing?”

I knew she wasn’t asking about the make-out session she had walked in on. She was worried about me defiling her couch, not her son.

“We’re sitting, Mom,” he said.

“We are now standing.” I stood and pulled Asher up by hisarm.

Cori smiled. “I know I’m ridiculous, but these were my mother’s couches.”

“They’re very pretty,” I said.

After she left the room, I asked, “When did your grandmother pass away?”

“She didn’t. She moved to Florida.”