Eden's POV
Asher Donahue is a strange enigma of a man. He walks fluidly like he's waltzing through the air, like the social and physical norms of this world don't dare touch him at all.
That, and he's beautiful.
Everything about him is beautiful, down the bone structure of his face when he presses his lips against the rim of his coffee cup, and the crooked smile he flickers when I turn my back, only to catch him staring at the back of my head like he's picturing what my eyes look like when I'm waiting on other tables.
He has visited the diner every single night for the last week after he kissed me in the parking garage. Sometimes I take him up on the ride home, and sometimes I protest and walk home alone, only to feel him looming a few paces behind me.
It's hard to gauge what he wants
