He walked over, grabbed a bottle of water from the bar, twisted the cap, and tossed it to Damien.
Damien caught it one-handed, but didn’t drink.
Ashcroft leaned his elbows on the counter.
“Look, brother. She likes you. It’s obvious. You said it yourself—she didn’t pull away, she said she believes you, and you two almost kissed. That doesn’t happen if she’s indifferent.”
Ashcroft stepped closer, voice firm but not unkind.
“And did you not see the way she steals glances at you when she thinks no one’s looking? How she flushes or gets all self-conscious the second you’re near her? Come on, man.”
He held Damien’s gaze.
“The elevator—that moment? And just minutes ago, in the hallway? She’s trying so hard not to fall, and you’re standing there acting like it’s only on you.”
Damien stared
