But then I hear it. That voice.
Her voice.
Laughter drifts from the dining room, light and warm, and it hits me like a sucker punch.
I step through the doorway, and there she is, standing beside my mom, looking as if she belongs here. Her hair is loose tonight, falling in soft waves that brush her shoulders, and she's wearing a pale blue dress that makes her eyes look brighter even from across the room. She's holding a drink, smiling politely while Mom talks a mile a minute.
The sight of her here, in this house, is too much.
"Asher," Mom says, her eyes shining with the satisfaction of someone who believes she's engineered the matchmaking coup of the century, "look who I ran into at the market. I invited her to dinner. Isn't that nice?"
Nice. That's one word for it.
Kassi turns, and the moment our eyes meet, the whole room blurs. She says my name—steady, polite, like she's not been in my head every night this week.
"Asher," she says, her voice even, polite. "Good to see you."
I nod once, too sharp, too stiff. "Kassi."
My answer is stiff because it's either that or give myself away in front of everyone I love.
I don't know how I'm supposed to sit across from her and pretend like we haven't been sneaking texts late into the night, or that I don't know the sound she makes when she's caught off guard and laughing.
Mom beams, oblivious. "I thought it would be nice for Kassi to join us. She's new in town, and you boys are always working yourselves into the ground. I want her to feel welcome."
Kassi offers a small smile, the kind she gives when she's nervous but trying to play along. "Thank you for having me."
My jaw tightens. I should be angry—angry that she's here, angry that Mom doesn't know who she just invited into our circle—but what I feel most is raw and restless.
Because she's not just my enemy.
Not anymore. She's the woman who keeps me awake at night, who makes me smile at my phone like a damn fool, who kissed me last week as though she was drowning and I was air.
"Alright, let's eat," Jenna says, her voice warm and steady, drawing us all to the table.
Dinner starts with the usual clatter of dishes and chatter filling the room. I take my regular seat, thinking I'm safe, but Mom gestures to the empty chair beside me. "Kassi, honey, sit next to Asher."
Of course.
She hesitates, just for a beat, then slides into the chair, the skirt of her dress brushing my jeans.
"Sorry." She leans in and whispers as everyone is getting settled. "Your mom cornered me at the store, and when she found outEmma was at a birthday party, she refused to let me eat alone. I tried to get out of it."
"It's fine. I know how my mom can be." I say with as little emotion as possible.
She leans away from me, but her perfume, citrus and something softer, warmer, still wraps around me. I grip the edge of the table and try to focus on the roast chicken, on Zach's bad jokes, on Finn arguing about rodeo stats.
Josh's voice rises over the clink of silverware. "This calf—I swear it looked me dead in the eye before bolting straight through the fence post."
Zach snorts. "Like when Finn got dragged through the dirt last month, legs up like a damn cartoon."
Mom's hand swats at Zach's shoulder. "For heaven's sake, chew and swallow before you speak." The familiar rhythm of their voices washes over me like the creek behind the property--constant, predictable, home. It should ground me.
But it doesn't.
Because Kassi's knee bumps mine under the table.
At first, I think it's an accident. The table's crowded, legs everywhere. But she doesn't move away. If anything, she leansinto it, just the slightest bit. She knows exactly what she's doing. Heat spreads through me, pooling low and insistent. I keep my face neutral, my focus on my plate, but every nerve in my body is tuned to that single point of contact.