Chapter 63

The seemingly sleeping girl pouted, murmured softly, and clutched Asher’s shirt sleeve, refusing to release her grip.

“Are you awake?” Asher leaned down, his hands braced on either side of Thalia, his gaze lowered.

“Dri…” Thalia’s eyes remained closed, her lips moving. “Dri…”

“Drake?” Asher’s eyes narrowed, his gaze darkening, a cold glint appearing. Drake Ashcroft? Was she actually calling her ex's name in her drunken state? It was bad enough she'd drunkenly spread rumors about his bedroom performance, but this was beyond the pale. He'd almost forgotten why he'd gone to the bar—to confront her about those ridiculous rumors. She hadn't even tried to verify them; how could she possibly know?

Asher's brow furrowed, a chill settling in his chest. Ungrateful little minx. He straightened, his gaze dominating. “You’re still thinking about him?” he asked, though she couldn't hear him. The air thrummed with his jealousy.

“Thalia Winters,” his voice was deep and threatening, his British accent pronounced. “Think very carefully before you speak…”

The girl’s eyelashes fluttered; she restlessly turned, burying her face in the pillow. “Drink… I want some water…” she mumbled.

Asher: “…” Drink? So it wasn't "Drake," but "Drink"? He couldn't help but laugh, the tension releasing. He moved closer, his tone indulgent. “Lia, let me get you cleaned up first, then I’ll bring you some water, shall we?” His Thalia liked to be pristine. She'd be mortified if she woke up still smelling of alcohol.

The room was quiet; he could hear her deep, steady breathing. She was sound asleep. After a moment, Asher exhaled and went to prepare a bath, then returned to carry Thalia. “Let’s get you sorted for a proper night’s sleep.”

He gently undressed her and placed her in the tub. Thalia, sensing the movement, opened her eyes hazily. “Asher…”

“Lia, be good now.”

His movements were gentle. He wet her hair, lathered shampoo, and gently massaged it in. Thalia leaned against the tub, still drowsy, but the warm water relaxed her. She exhaled contentedly, enjoying his attentions.

After the bath, Asher dried her, wrapped her in a towel, and carried her back to the bedroom to dry her hair. By then, Thalia was more alert.

“Stay with me,” she insisted, clutching his collar.

Asher lowered his eyes, speaking soothingly: “Alright, I’ll stay with you.”

“Tell me a story,” Thalia murmured.

Asher obliged. He found some bedtime stories on his phone and read them in his deep, gentle voice. Gradually, Thalia stopped fidgeting, her grip relaxing. He'd finally lulled her to sleep.

He'd planned to leave, but seeing her drunk and alone, he felt uneasy and decided to stay. There were no toiletries or clothes for him. He called a Blackwood household staff member for a change of clothes and toiletries, then showered in Thalia's bathroom. The girl on the bed slept soundly. Asher smiled indulgently, his gaze fixed on her face. After a few minutes, he tucked in her blanket, kissed her forehead, and whispered, “Goodnight.”

Having confirmed she was asleep, Asher quietly went to the living room. The apartment had two bedrooms and a living room, but the second bedroom lacked a bed. Tonight, he'd use the sofa.

Under the heavy night sky, both slept soundly.

Early morning, as dawn broke, Thalia woke at her usual time. After the night of drinking, her head pounded mercilessly. She gradually regained consciousness, remembering going out with colleagues, then to a bar. Her alcohol tolerance was poor, and she'd blacked out after a few drinks. She vaguely recalled a man appearing later, and clinging to him, babbling nonsense. A wave of panic washed over her. Oh no, she’d been all over some man! If Asher found out… would he be jealous? It wasn’t his anger she feared, but his hurt. She cared deeply about his feelings.

She threw back the covers, noticing her pajamas. When had she changed? How had she gotten home? Opening the bedroom door, she spotted someone on the sofa—a man under a throw blanket, feet propped on the armrest, eyes closed, chin raised, jawline sharp.

Asher! What was he doing here? Had he been the one who'd brought her home? Had he seen her…

She couldn’t recall what the man from last night looked like. She felt like crying, ashamed to face Asher. The man on the sofa slept soundly, his sleeping face handsome. Thalia watched him, entranced. In the quiet morning, she could almost hear her own heartbeat. Seeing him curled on the sofa ached her heart with tenderness.

She walked over, gently poking his cheek. He showed no reaction. Emboldened, she pinched his cheek. He opened his eyes, drowsy. “Lia, you’re awake.”

Thalia hesitated. “Asher, you should go sleep in the bedroom.”

Asher sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “What time is it?”

Thalia glanced at the clock. “Half past seven.”

In one smooth motion, Asher pulled Thalia into his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder. “It’s Saturday. Aren’t you going back to sleep? Why are you up so early?” His voice was husky, sending shivers down her spine. His warm breath tickled her ear.

“I’m not going back to sleep. I drank too much last night and my head hurts.”

“If you can’t handle your alcohol, you shouldn’t drink so much,” Asher chuckled softly. “Do you have any idea how utterly maddening you were last night?” He’d nearly lost his composure.

Thalia recalled clinging to that man, her face flushing. “I… I’m sorry, Asher…”

Asher’s voice was hypnotic. “Hmm? Is ‘sorry’ all you have to offer?” His lips curved into a smile. “You told everyone I couldn’t… rise to the occasion… without a chance to prove myself. Perhaps you’d like to find out if I’m really lacking in that department?”