She paused. “Are you seriously staring down that old guy for handing me a coupon?”
Ashar’s voice barely rose above a growl. “He was too close.”
Blair blinked, and then flushed. Holy hell. Her brain tried to reboot.
He was guarding her like some unholy combination of possessive boyfriend and apex predator. Like she was his territory, and not in the gross alpha-male way, but in the I will burn down a kingdom for you way.
And she liked it?
No. No, that was the part of her that still mistook control for care. That was codependency. That was the trauma brain talking. She’d been here before. Possession dressed up as protection. But this felt different, too different, and maybe that was worse.
Ashar reached past her to grab a jar of cinnamon. His arm brushed her shoulder.
Her pulse spiked. Not helpful. She tried to shake it off, stalking ahead into the cereal aisle and examining the boxes of fiber flakes as if they held the secrets of the universe.
Ashar caught up, dropping the cinnamon into the cart. “You’re blushing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
“It’s the lighting,” she hissed. “Everything looks red under this demonic fluoresce, oh god, you love this, don’t you?”
“Love is a strong word.”
“But accurate?”
He leaned close, voice dipping into dangerous territory. “I enjoy being close to you. Especially when you get flustered, it’s illuminating.”
“Ugh.”
He laughed, low and unrepentant. “Do you want me to stop?”
She hesitated. And that silence, that heartbeat where her brain tried to lie but her mouth didn’t, was enough.
Ashar smiled again. And it was the kind of smile that should’ve been illegal in public.
They moved on. Got coffee, paper towels, and something that might’ve been ethically sourced kale. Blair tried to focus on her list, on keeping everything normal. Predictable. Safe.
But every time a man looked at her too long, Ashar was there.
Not touching, he wasn’t glaring; he just kept watching.
Absurd, but weirdly comforting in a way she didn’t want to name.
By the time they got to checkout, she was vibrating with something unfamiliar. Not quite arousal, and not quite dread. Something in between. Something sharp and warm and clawing at the walls she kept meticulously reinforced.
He loaded groceries while she paid. Thanked the cashier, who gave Ashar a once-over and bit her lip.
He didn’t flirt, didn’t even blink, Ashar didn’t even glance at her. And something in Blair’s chest pulled tight, not with jealousy, but with disbelief. She wasn’t used to being the only object in someone’s attention. She wasn’t used to being enough.
He didn’t even act like he noticed, but Blair noticed.
Dammit, she noticed everything now.
* * *
Back in the car, she didn’t start the engine right away.
