"Maybe."
"Hmm, I'm not sure I believe you," he said.
I snorted and shrugged a shoulder. "You gotta do you, I guess. Anyway, what does it matter?"
He looked away, back to the television, and I couldn't tell if the color on his cheeks was from the movie or a blush.
It made my breath catch for a second while I waited to see if he was going to answer the question.
"I might have an interest," he said finally. "In what your type is."
Oh god.
Why couldn't these things happen to me at the right times? If I'd met him before and he had said these things to me, I would have climbed into his lap and shown him what my type was. Because it was very much him, but I couldn't just say that.
Well. I could, I supposed, but it felt wrong. I'd be lying by omission by not telling him about Killian, and there was no way in hell I was going to open up that conversation, so I was at a standstill on how to handle it.
He was sitting there, very carefully not looking at me, and I needed to say something.
"Well," I murmured, keeping my eyes down on my lap. "I wouldn't say I had one specific type. I'm more interested in the person than the type of person. If that makes sense."
Simon nodded, and I could feel him looking at me again. "It does make sense," he said. "And it's good to know."
We went back to the movie after that, watching it all the way through in silence. Even after the conversation we'd had, it was a comfortable silence, though it felt heavy with something very much like anticipation.
I kept stealing glances at him, taking in his profile. His curly hair fell over his forehead, and his glasses were slipping down, and I smiled when he reached up to reposition them before glancing over and smiling at me.
I could easily see this being the new normal for Friday nights. Instead of going to some expensive restaurant with Killian and then going back to his place to have sex that was much more his thing than mine, I could spend time here with Simon. Watching movies and laughing or taking an art class together. He could show me how to blow glass, and then we could kiss, and I could see what he was into in bed.
It was a nice little picture.
Chapter 3
Ashlyn
The movie ended before I even really noticed it was over, and Simon flipped the light back on, stretching when he got up from the couch.
"I'm going to grab a drink, do you want anything?" he asked, looking down at me.
"Maybe just some water?" I replied, mouth suddenly very dry.
"Coming right up," he said, and I watched him walk into the kitchen.
Once he was gone, I sighed and rubbed at my face. "Pull it together, Ash," I muttered. "You're not some lovestruck idiot. It's all fine. Don't have a crisis over this."
"Are you talking to me?" Simon called from the kitchen. "Because if you are, I can't hear you."
My cheeks went dark with embarrassment and I shook myself.
"No," I said back. "Just talking to myself. Don't worry about it."
He looked amused when he came back in with a can of soda for himself and a glass of water for me. He handed it to me and then sat down, and I was very aware that he was much closer than he had been before.
"Another one?" Simon asked. "Or is it getting late?"
I swallowed hard and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, but there was a part of me that wanted to stay.
"I don't want to overstay my welcome," I said, instead of answering his question, putting the ball back in his court.
He looked at me, and his eyes were soft and warm, and I was suddenly very aware of how close he was.
"Ash," he said. "You're welcome here any time for as long as you want. I think..." He trailed off, looking away from me for a second. "Do you know that when my mom told me about you, I thought you were going to be a complete bore?"
I snorted. "Wow, thanks."
"It had nothing to do with you, I promise!" he insisted. "It was just the way she framed it. A daughter of a friend of the family, already living and working where I was moving to. It seemed too good to be true, so I made a mental list of all the things that might be wrong with you."
"Still not flattering," I pointed out, but I was amused. "What was on the list?"
"That you might be boring or into more corporate things. My mom couldn't even tell me what you did for a living, which goes to show how much she really thought we would hit it off. I wondered if you would be seeing someone or married. Or already so full up on friends you didn't have the time or desire to meet anyone else. I basically psyched myself up for having coffee with you once and then never seeing you again, just so I could tell my mom I'd done it."
I licked my lips, trying not to show any reaction to the 'seeing someone or married' part of the list. The rest of it was funny, though, and I smiled, shaking my head. "I mean, you know it was the same for me. The fact that we were in the same city was enough to make my mom think we would hit it off. She didn't tell me anything about you, either."
He nodded and scooted just a bit closer to me on the couch. "I know. And so I feel like we're pretty lucky that we've hit it off so well, right? It could have very easily been a disaster. Instead I got a new friend out of it."
"Yeah," I replied. "It's very nice."
"But," he added, and I knew there was more
