Page 76 of On One Condition

I don’t ask who made the comment.

Needing to know isn’t a necessity.

Because whoever it is today, it will be a different one tomorrow. And even a different one the time after that.

Gran and Pop have taught me that no one else defines my worth but me.

But it still hurts like a bitch, regardless.

“Thank you for defending me. You didn’t have to. I’m sorry you got hurt,” I whisper and press a kiss to his cheek. “Do you really have to leave next week?”

He links his fingers with mine and sighs. The topic we’ve been avoiding the last few days is his inevitable departure back to Manhattan and his fancy prep school. We did this last summer—said goodbye before school started—and somehow stayed in touch. His coming back gave me something to look forward to. His calls, while he was gone, helped the time pass. I just hope we can make it work this time too.

“I’ll be back next summer. We can talk all the time on the phone and text and Skype, just like we did this year. We’ll make it work, Ash.”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

He chuckles as we fall into our routine. “You have to, though.”

“On one condition.” I quirk an eyebrow at him, going for humor to mask my sadness.

“What condition is that?”

“That you promise me you’ll come back next year. That you promise me you won’t forget me.” My voice breaks on those last words. All I can think about is the rich, sophisticated, beautiful girls at his prep school back home. Ones who have moms and aren’t called sluts. Ones who would gladly enjoy Ledger’s kisses and attention just as much as I do.

How can I compete with that? How will phone calls and texts beat sitting beside them in class every day?

He reaches out and runs a thumb over my cheek, his smile soft, his eyes warm. “You’re my lavender girl. How could I ever forget you?” He presses a kiss on my lips. “Stop worrying. They’re all pretentious and ridiculously shallow,” he says, reading my mind. “And I’ll make sure I talk about you so much that they’re all jealous of you.” Another tender kiss. “I won’t forget you. I wouldn’t be able to even if I wanted to.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Asher

I’m daydreaming again.

Then again, is it daydreaming if it really happened and you’re simply replaying it in your head over and over because it was that good?

Dinner at Bessie’s Diner. Making out on the porch swing on the veranda in the moonlight. Talking on the phone into the early morning hours. My time spent with Ledger has made me feel like a teenager again in some senses and a cared-for woman in others.

“Asher?” I look up to see George standing in the doorway. “Wow.” He scans the office. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this . . . uncluttered before.”

“I’ve made progress, right?” My smile beams because I have, and I’m not ashamed to welcome the praise. It’s been taxing and confusing and a huge learning experience as I’ve gone through each piece of paper or receipt or napkin with scribbles on them, and tried to figure out its importance. Is it a recurring bill? Is it a monthly supply invoice I need to budget for? Is it, is it, is it . . .

“I’m impressed. Can I show you something?”

“Not if you’re going to ruin my good mood.”

A smile breaks over his face. “It won’t. I promise.”

“Whew,” I say, rising from my seat and closing the lid of my laptop. I’m nowhere near ready to have anyone see what I’m working on yet. Not until I know I can actually make it happen.

I follow George down the steps and toward the fields. “How’s Angel doing?” I ask him about his wife.

“Good. Stressed over the new resort. I don’t know.” He runs a hand through his hair and tries to pull off a smile that looks as if it’s nothing, but . . .

“About the resort?”

He nods. “She’s in charge of catering over at Lakefront,” he says, referring to another smaller resort on the lake. “She thinks The Retreat is going to wipe out their business, and she’s afraid she’ll get laid off.”