Chapter 5
TAYLOR
Penelope may wantto kill me, but after having Asa’s lips on mine, at least I’ll die a happy woman. Never in a million years would I have thought Asa freaking Sharpe would actually be into me. I mean, come on. I’m just a small-town girl who designs graphics for a living. I’m pretty, but I’m nothing spectacular. My best quality, I’ve been told, is my green eyes, but even that, I share with my three sisters.
I’m nothing like the women he usually goes for. As irritating as it is to see, I’ve kept tabs on who Asa is seen with. Models and actresses. Women with perfect bodies they’ve bought with money. I’m not tall. I’m not super thin. I don’t have fake boobs that stay perky even while lying down. I have an obsessive personality—hence my obsession with all things Asa. I make really good money because I’m damn good at my job, but I’m not loaded. My house is a small, two bedroom bungalow style. Sure, my car is new, but it was the cheapest model on the lot.
Why in the hell would Asa want anything to do with me?
Whatever the reason is, I’ll take any scraps of attention he wants to throw my way. That sounds pathetic and even desperate, but it’s Asa fucking Sharpe we’re talking about. Anyone would go bonkers if he even looked in their direction.
Just like he’s looking in mine right this minute.
As soon as he closes the door to his Tahoe, he swivels his head in my direction. Like he not only knows where I’ll be, but he’s also expecting me to be there. Yes, I’m in my car, and I’ve once again followed Asa.
His lips tip up into his signature sexy grin and he lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers at me in greeting. I giggle and return the wave.
I may be the crazy one here—you know, being the stalker and all—but he doesn’t seem entirely sane himself, since he doesn’t seem to mind it.
And here Penelope was worried Asa would file a restraining order against me. According to what he said last night in Whiskey’s, I’m only allowed to stalk him. He likes it and even encourages it.
Asa turns and walks inside the restaurant. I think about staying in my car, but then I remember what he said last night about me approaching him.
With that thought in mind, I get out of my car and beep the locks as I cross the street. It doesn’t matter if Asa’s here to have dinner with someone—although, I may lose my mind if it’s with another woman—he’ll be dining with me at his table as well.
Louie’s is the best steakhouse in Silver Falls. It’s not only the most expensive restaurant, but their food is divine. I look around as I approach the hostess.
“Hey, Tay,” Lucy greets. “Are you here to sit or pick up an order?”
“I’m actually meeting someone.” My eyes lock on Asa seated alone in a booth in the back corner. “And it looks like he’s here already.”
It’s not technically a lie. I am meeting Asa. It was just an unplanned meeting.
She turns, looking in the same direction as me, then spins back. Her eyes are big and round. “You’re meeting Asa Sharpe?”
I grin and bob my head up and down.
“Damn, you’re one lucky girl. He’s the one you’ve been obsessing over for years, right?”
Yep, pretty much everyone in Silver Falls knows of my infatuation with the rock star. It’s not like I’ve kept it a secret.
Lucy and I grew up together. She’s married to her high school sweetheart and has two kids. All throughout school, we shared most of our classes because the schools here are small. Despite that, we were never really close. I was in drama and art club, so my crowd of friends were nerdier than her group, which were the jocks and other cheerleaders.
When Lucy moves from behind the hostess podium to lead me to Asa’s table, I place my hand on her arm.
“No need to take me. I can go by myself.”
Her expression turns crestfallen, like she’s disappointed she won’t get to be near Asa again. Which is the exact reason why I don’t want her to take me to the table. Lucy’s gorgeous. Happily married, but still gorgeous. Asa is famous, hot as hell, and loaded. There’s a very good chance Lucy would flirt, and I’m afraid I may choke the life right out of her if she did. I barely held back the other night at Whiskey’s when I saw him dancing with Isabella.
Asa, seated so he’s facing the room, looks up from his menu when I approach. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. “You’re late.”
Throwing my purse in the booth across from him, I arch a brow as I take a seat. “Late?”
“Yes. For our date.”
An unexpected laugh slips free. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works. Usually one person asks the other person out for it to be considered a date.”
He slides a second menu across the table to me. “Details don’t matter. I knew you would follow me here. I also knew you would come inside. We’re two people having dinner. In my book, that’s considered a date, no matter how it came to be.”
“You’re just as crazy as I am, you know that, right?”