One Night Stand With My Ex's Billionaire Enemy-Chapter 123 Feelings for You

It took me a long minute to realize the question wasn’t a dream.

Because Ashton repeated it, "Do you still have feelings for him?"

"Who?"

"Rhys."

"Rhys who?"

"Granger."

"Granger who?"

Ashton’s chest rumbled above me.

I blinked, trying to focus. "Who’s that?"

His grip on me loosened slightly. "A nobody."

"Who’s a nobody?"

"Never mind."

My slow brain finally caught up with the night’s events and landed on a question I probably should have asked ten minutes ago: "What are you doing here?"

"Where? This is my car. We’re going home."

"At the bar." I fumbled for my phone.

"What do you need?" He dug it out of my handbag for me.

"To check. For a bug. I didn’t tell you I was at that bar." I hadn’t even known I’d end up at that bar.

"I didn’t bug your phone." He paused. "Though, now that you mention it... Cassian texted me. Sent me a photo of you and Yvaine and... Rhys."

"I wasn’t with Rhys." I frowned.

"I know." His voice softened. "It’s just... seeing him there..."

"Look," he said after a moment, "I’m not trying to control you. It’s just, Rhys is married, and with all the mess around him right now, if anyone sees you two together... it could get complicated."

"I’m not with him," I said again, hating the idea.

I shifted in Ashton’s arms, trying to pull myself up to meet his eyes.

That failed, so I yanked him down instead.

"Okay, I think I remember who Rhys Granger is now."

"Who is he?"

"Gum on my shoe. Can’t get rid of him, everywhere I go. He keeps popping up."

"I like that answer."

I yawned. "He wants a refund, you know."

"What refund?"

"On the wedding. Catherine isn’t who she claims to be, so he doesn’t want her anymore. He wants a re, re—" I snapped my fingers. "I forgot the word. A return. Yes, a return."

Ashton’s fingers, still massaging my temple, stopped.

"He wants a return? To the old status quo? To... you?"

Rolling my eyes took too much effort when I was drunk, so I settled for a derisive snort, which came out sounding like a little grunt.

"He wishes."

"Do you wish the same thing?"

"Wish what thing?" I lost track of the conversation.

"Getting back together with Rhys."

"Why do you keep bringing him up?" I made a face.

"Because he keeps showing up in your life, and I’m afraid you..." He muttered something I didn’t catch.

"I what?"

"Never mind."

"What?" I tickled his chin. He was staring out the window. "Are you mad?"

"No."

"Your jaw says otherwise."

"I’m not mad. Not at you."

"Hmm." After a moment, I said, "Ash."

He looked down.

I looped an arm around the back of his neck, pulled him close, and planted a loud kiss on his lips. "Mwah! There. Don’t be mad."

Then I let him go. Job done.

He did something. The backseat divider clicked into place.

Then he was back. In my face. Lips on mine.

It was immediate. It was forceful.

It sucked all the air right out of my lungs.

I couldn’t breathe except by borrowing air from him.

He shared. Generously.

Ashton kissed me like there were things he needed to say but words weren’t enough.

I kissed back like I understood.

My tongue tingled, this time not from alcohol.

I pushed him back, panting. "No."

His lips were still parted, eyes glazed over with lust, but his hands on my waist stopped moving. "Sorry, I—"

"No, I don’t."

"What?"

I took a moment to catch my breath. "No, I don’t have feelings for him."

Then I added, "Your question. Earlier. You asked if I still have feelings for him. The answer’s no."

For a second, everything was still.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he murmured, "Mira."

The way he said my name made my ears tingle.

I flopped back onto his lap like a limp rag. "For Rhys Granger, you know. I don’t have feelings for Rhys Granger."

He chuckled, chest rumbling. "I know, Mira. I get it now."

"I have feelings. Just not for him."

"Hmm." He nodded, patting my hand as if soothing a toddler.

"For you."

"Hmm—what?"

"I have feelings for you." I licked my lips, savoring the aftertaste of that kiss. "For you. Ashton Laurent."

"Yes, that’s my name." His voice was low.

"I have feelings, and those feelings are for you, Ashton Laurent," I clarified.

"I hear you. Loud and clear." He leaned in again, but I pushed his face away.

"No oxygen," I said. "Do it later."

He laughed and straightened. "All right."

The car stopped.

Ashton carried me into the house.

The driver might have been watching, but I no longer cared.

Why walk on my own two feet when I could be carried everywhere?

My head was still swimming, but the room wasn’t spinning anymore.

Ashton laid me down on the bed.

I sighed into the soft mattress.

"Shower?" he asked. "Or dinner? Rest? I’ll ask Carmen to make you something. Soup, maybe."

"No."

"No soup, or no shower?"

"No nothing." I kicked off the blanket he’d tucked over me. "Hot."

"Do you want some water?" He brought me a glass.

I drained it.

"More?"

I nodded.

He fetched another glass.

I drank that, too.

"Still thirsty?" He frowned. "What kind of drink did you order at that bar?"

"Drink, yes, I want."

"No. I can get you more plain water."

"Plain." I wrinkled my nose. "Bland. Meh."

"Or sparkling. Or lemonade?"

"I know!" I snapped my fingers. "I want..."

"Yes?"

I yanked him to me and kissed him. "You."