Third Person POV
Asher sat at a small table across from Mia at a cafe a quarter mile down from the main square.
Her foot kept brushing against his leg, and he knew it was absolutely on purpose. They ordered coffee, which he barely sipped at, his stomach roiling with nerves.
“So, Asher,” Mia started, grasping her cup of hot coffee in her hands. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I feel great,” Asher said back, guarded. He was beginning to feel like Mia had a really dark ulterior motive.
He’d always been able to read her exceptionally well, but in that moment, she was a blank slate. He had no idea what she was really doing here, or if she did recognize him and was faking it.
“I wasn’t asking how you were doing,” Mia said with a roll of her eyes.
“I know what
