Page 100 of Falling Like Snow

I sigh and turn so he can see the back. “I tried to get it off, but the zipper snagged. I couldn’t get it myself.”

His eyes fall on mine again, his nostrils flaring.

“Just tell me what he did,” he says.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” It isn’t that I want to keep secrets from him. But he’s got his own stuff going on. His own relationship stuff. Yes, he was the first person I wanted to talk to when it happened, but I’m coping by myself now. I’m fine. Fine enough, anyway.

Plus, honestly, this particular event is easily the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me. I believed that I was more than just some sort of conquest. I believed Micah Cook liked me. It’s mortifying how naive I was. And even more embarrassing is that he was right—I asked for it. I did lead him on.

Asher brushes past me.

“What are you doing?” I ask, still holding the door open, hoping he’ll take the hint.

“It’s freezing out there, and I’m not going until you tell me what happened,” he says.

“I mean this in the nicest possible way,” I say, my voice firm. “I need you to leave this alone.”

He reaches for the door, pulls it from my grip, and closes it. “Not gonna happen. No. I’m sorry, Sloane, but no. What. Did. He. Do?”

My chin quivers and tears prick at my eyes. I really don’t want to cry again. Not in front of Asher. Not over this.

“Please go,” I say, my voice barely a whisper as I try to keep my emotions at bay.

Asher cradles my face in his hands. “No.”

Like a bursting pipe, tears spill over and a sob escapes me. Asher pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me, hugging me tightly as I cry into his rented tux, probably ruining it with my makeup. If I even have any makeup left on my face, that is.

“Why didn’t you come get me?” he asks quietly a few minutes later. “I would have driven you home.”

My hands fall to my sides and Asher lets me go. “I did, but you were… occupied.”

He tilts his head, confusion stamped on his face. Then the realization hits him, and his face turns pink. “Oh.”

“It was fine,” I lie. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” He sighs. “Just tell me. Please don’t make me go ask him.”

For the first time in hours, I laugh, making the corner of Asher’s mouth quirk upward.

“Why is that funny?” he asks.

“Because you’re the least threatening person alive,” I say.

“Well, damn, I didn’t say I was going to threaten him. Do I need to?” he asks, his face tightening. “Did he…?”

“Asher, just leave it alone.”

Asher stares at me. “Tell me. Now.”

“He was a jerk,” I say quietly.

“And what does that mean exactly?” he asks.

“We were…” I swallow, really not wanting to go on. “We were kissing, and then…” I shake my head. “It just became too much. I told him to stop, and—”

Another sob stifles my words. Asher doesn’t touch me, and I don’t dare look at him as tears spill down my face.

“Anyway,” I continue, trying to gain some composure, “he said I was a tease and that I ruined the night. And he’s not even wrong. I spent the last month flirting with him, asked him to kiss me, then pushed him off me.”