"Lilah?"

I look over at Jesse. "Mm-hm."

"Are you sure there's nothing you would prefer to put on?"

"No, this is fine."

"You've been zoned out for the last two episodes," Mum says. "Are you sure there's nothing else you want to watch?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm hijacking your evening, so the least I can do is enjoy what you're watching."

Jesse tsks. "You're not hijacking our evening. When your plans fell through, we were happy to know you'd be home with us."

I smile at Jesse, who deserves an award for the best stepdad ever. Then I grab the giant bowl of popcorn on the couch beside me, shove a handful of the fluffy popped kernels in my mouth, and give them my best impression of someone who wants to binge-watch the latest Netflix superhero drama.

After telling everyone I want to stay focused on my schoolwork and don't have time to date this year, I made plans with Kennedy to go out with Kai and Jacob, the brothers Kennedy introduced me to at the wedding. It was supposed to be a 'just-friends' thing, and we were going to go watch a movie, but Jacob came down with the flu and I hadn't wanted to third wheel. It might be a just-friends thing for Jacob and me, but I think Kennedy likes Kai more than she's letting on.

So, here I am, third wheeling with Mum and Jesse instead.

Maybe I should be up in my room doing my homework, but the second story feels too quiet without the guys around. Both are out with their girlfriends. Besides, I've had more time to focus on my assignments with the duet being low on Asher's priority list, thanks to MOD rehearsals.

That doesn't mean the duet has been low on my priority list. I keep going over our song in my head, obsessing over why it's not working. Despite all the alterations we've made to our song, it's still as weak as dishwater. Forced and emotionless. Kennedy said the song I wrote about Asher for the auditions was my best yet because it was full of powerful emotions. But back then, I had a bucket load of anger, pain, and resentment to tap into for inspiration.

Things are a little different now.

It isn't as if I've forgotten that Asher is the reason that Ethan and I split up. Even though Ethan deserves more of the blame for our break-up, Asher set out to hate me from the start, pouring that toxic hatred all over Ethan and me until the end. But the Asher I've started getting to know since we started working on the duet differs from the hateful guy who never spoke a kind word to me once I started dating his brother.

He's also someone I've come to enjoy spending time with.

Take this week, for example. Even though Asher has been busy with rehearsals, he still made time to pick me up from work when I landed another late shift at the cinema mid-week. He sat with me at lunch. Twice. And when Ethan asked me to study with him after MOD rehearsals, Asher joined us. Then, of course, there's the fact we eat breakfast together every morning, Asher and Ethan telling me all about the progress MOD is making. Strangely, it's always Asher who asks for my opinion when he and Ethan are worrying over an aspect of their upcoming gig.

I've been trying not to over-analyse how I feel about Asher but living in denial makes working on our song difficult. Impossible, even. How do you write and emotional song when you're busy trying not to feel your emotions?

Swallowing thickly, I contemplate that question. The bigger question, perhaps, is: how am I supposed to bring up this dilemma with Asher? I mean, how do I say, 'hey, I don't hate you anymore, and I think that's why our duet isn't working?' Our song mightn't improve unless I get honest and say something, but what if Asher says he still sees me as a gold digger and a user. A month ago, I wouldn't have cared, but as I said, things are different now.

I pull at my hair, frustrated with myself. Something has to change. But, what? At this point, I don't even know what an honest song about Asher would look like. After all, if we're not writing a song about hate together, what would it be about?

After glancing at Mum and Jesse, I grab the pen and notebook I brought downstairs with me in case inspiration struck. Then I flip to the first empty page I can find and start writing my thoughts on Asher in point form.

1. I should hate you after everything you've put me through, yet I don't. Not anymore.

2. You hurt me, but I've started looking past that.

3. I'm starting to forgive you for everything you said and everything you did to me. But is that really a good thing?

4. Some of the things you do confuse me, like when you pick me up from work, or ask how I am and genuinely want to know, or you sit with me at lunch.

5. I like talking to you about music.

6. I enjoy listening to you play.

7. I think your songs are genius; I think you're a lyrical genius.

8. I like how ambitious you are.

9. Since we started collaborating on this song, you listen to me, and I like that.

10. But I'm scared that could change at any time. I don't know how long this peace between us will last.

11. I don't always know how to act around you when you're not being a dick.

12. I don't know if you still see me the way you used to.

13. I don't want to go back to being at war with you.

14. You're not the worst person in the world to hang out with.

15. Though I'd never admit this to anyone else, I even enjoy it.

With a racing heart, I look over what I've written and then slam my notebook shut, causing both Mum and Jesse to look over at me with worried looks.

"Sorry," I mutter.

My heart still beating erratically, I open the notebook again and read through what I've written, then tell myself that it's not that bad. It's not as if I wrote about my crazy reactions to his flirtatious comments, or the fact I can now see why people online label him a dark and sexy rock god. Those are confessions I'll take to the grave with me.

I pick up my pen again and start writing on the next clean page, doing my best to clear my mind before I write the first things that pop into my head.

Fighting with you is all I've known.

For so long, you were enemy number one.

We've been enemies for so long that it feels all wrong

Now that the hate is gone.

Suddenly, I miss you when you're not around.

It's turning my world upside down.

What are we, what are we now?

The world makes more sense when I hate you and you hate me.

These times, when we're not at each other's throats, shake me to my core.

Taking a breath, I pause and look over what I've written, then start again, choosing the lines I like and adding to them.

Chorus

We've been enemies for so long

that it feels all wrong

now that the hate is gone.

Is it real, this truce?

Not hating you leaves me confused

What are we? What are we now?

Verse 1

We're not friends, but we're not at war,

This cease-fire leaves me unsure

All the hurtful things that you said

are still there, fucking with my head.

Do you still think the worst of me?

Or can you finally see?

I'm not the person you made me out to be?

I'm not your enemy?

Chorus

We've been enemies for so long

that it feels wrong

now that the hate is gone.

Is it real, this truce?

Not hating you leaves me confused.

What are we?

What are we now?

Verse 2

You finally talk to me like I'm okay

You've started listening to what I say

I miss you when you're not around

And it's turning my world upside down

Chorus x 2

It's far from perfect, and it barely resembles a song, and yet somehow the words I've put on paper feel more honest than anything Asher and I have written together so far.

Putting my notebook to the side of me, I close my eyes and go through my mental catalogue of music, trying to compose something that goes better with my new lyrics. I'm so lost in the music in my head that I startle when someone plops down on the couch next to me. I swear and open my eyes and see Asher sitting next to me, watching me, eyebrow raised, a lazy smirk on his face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mum glare over at me. "Sorry," I mouth at her before looking at Asher who is wearing a nice dress shirt and jeans. His hair, which has grown since the wedding in January, is a dark and artful mess. Even after writing that I enjoy spending time with Asher, I'm still surprised by just how happy I am to see him.

"You're home," I state stupidly.

"No shit."

"I mean," I look at my watch. "You're home early."

Asher shrugs. "Our concert is tomorrow. I never planned on having a late one. Thought I could get some study done before I crashed for the night."

He glances down at the book in my hands. "Looks like you're doing the same thing?"

"Actually, I've been writing," I say before I can stop myself.

"Writing music?"

"Yeah."

"May I?"

Before I can come up with a good reason he can't, he takes the notebook out of my hands, and I watch with a racing heart as Asher reads through the lyrics and thoughts I've just written. They're so uncensored; he might as well be reading my diary. It lay everything I feel about Asher out on paper for him to see and analyse - my confusion over us getting along, my insecurities over whether he still sees me as an enemy, a weak and pathetic gold digger–someone he hates. And then there is the fact I've written I like his company.

I swallow hard as he closes the notebook and looks at me, a small frown on his face. "For our song?"

"I'm experimenting with lyrics."

"Guys, do you think you could take the discussion somewhere else?" Jesse frowns at the two of us. "Cait and I are trying to watch this."

"Sorry, Jesse." Guilt for being disinterested and interrupting his show mixes with feelings of annoyance that he's stopped Asher from telling me what he thinks of my lyrics.

My heart still beating faster than normal, I wait for the verdict, for Asher's response to my honest thoughts about him.

Instead of giving me his opinion, Asher stands up, offering me his hand. "C'mon."

Without hesitation, I take his hand, feeling his large, warm hand with calloused fingertips engulf mine.

"I'm gonna make a sandwich." He pulls me to my feet before he lets my hand drop and heads towards the kitchen, my notebook still in his other hand.

I want to demand he just gets it over with and tells me what he thinks, rips the Band Aid off. Instead, I say, "Didn't you just have dinner?"

He turns and grins – a panty-melting grin I'm becoming more familiar with – patting his stomach. "I'm a growing boy."

Under other circumstances, I might remark on how he doesn't need to grow anymore. He's already 6'2, maybe even 6'3, but my stomach is knotting. Asher doesn't seem annoyed or amused or anything else I can put my finger on after reading my lyrics, so I'm completely in the dark over what he thinks.

He puts my notebook on the bench, and I resist the urge to snatch it up, taking a seat opposite him and watching as he slaps together two slices of wholemeal bread, some ham, and a litre of tomato sauce.

Gross.

I could ask how his date went, how Maddie is, and whether things are all good on that front, but I'm too nervous. Plus, the thought of him telling me about him and Maddie makes me feel slightly queasy. Drumming my fingers on the bench, I watch on as he shoves the sandwich in his mouth, chews and studies me.

Once he swallows a mouthful, his gaze falls to the notebook. "Our song's missing something, isn't it?"

"I know we set out to write a hate song, but..." I trail off, feeling more uncomfortable with Asher than I have for a long time. I need to be honest, and I try not to squirm under his intense gaze as he pins me to the seat with his stare, waiting for my response. "We've been getting along better. The hate doesn't feel as authentic as it once did," I murmur.

Before Asher came home, I didn't know how I would ever admit that, but it needed to be said.

Asher nods, taking another mouthful of his sandwich and chewing. "That's not the problem with your lyrics."

"Can you be less cryptic, please," I snap, my nerves now frayed to breaking point. I hate how much I care, not just because this is a partnership, but because I respect his song writing ability. "I know it's far from perfect, but what do you think is missing?"

"My side, my feelings and thoughts. When I'm done with the concert tomorrow, I'll write something to complement your lyrics."

I open my mouth to reply before realising I don't know what I want to say. Imagining my lyrics next to his, I ask, "You don't want me to change what I have so far?"

"What you've written is already a hundred times better than what we've got. We can tweak them when we add my lyrics, but they're good for now."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks," I mutter, feeling a little warm as heat climbs up my chest and neck and face. God, I hope I'm not glowing. As much as I've let him know I respect his talent, I don't need him to know just how much his praise and acceptance fill me with pleasure.

Asher finishes his sandwich in one giant mouthful, then asks, "What time are you planning to get to the concert tomorrow?"

I shrug. "I was going to go with Mum, but Kennedy is heading down there with Kai and the rest of the gang. I haven't decided whether I'll tag along with them yet."

His brow furrows, his lips pulling down at the corner. "Don't miss our set."

It's my turn to study him. "I wasn't planning on it."

He gives me a short, decisive nod. "Good."

After a moment of silence, he braces his hands on the bench and stares at me. "I can, you know."

"What?"

His dark eyes tick between mine. "See that you're not who I thought you were. What I thought you were."

A soft exhale passes my lips as I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Oh."

Another moment of silence passes, one in which I feel a mixture of relief and something else I don't dare analyse, no matter how important emotional honesty is right now.

"Have you read The King's Horseman?" he asks, pushing off the bench.

"Yeah. I've annotated it, too."

"Do you want to study together?"

Normally, I'd consider essay writing a solo exercise, but this won't be the first time Asher and I have studied or sat together while doing homework this week, and the idea of studying with Asher is far from unappealing. In fact, it's a lot more enticing than studying by myself or watching Netflix with the parentals.

"Sure."

It's insane how quickly things can change. A month ago, Asher and I were ready to kill each other and now we're choosing to spend time together. And the fact Asher has admitted I'm not the person he once thought I was fills me with a feeling I can't quite decipher. The relief he doesn't see me the way he used to is even stronger than I thought it would be. I feel lighter, less weighed down, and there's a warm sensation blooming in my chest, one I'm not sure how to interpret.

But I will not dwell on it. As confusing as it is, it's easier and far less terrifying to just go with it.