But I needed to know what was going on in his brain. He hadn’t said a word all night, and then he reacted when Greg touched me. It was completely out of character— wildly unlike him.
When I caught up, I grabbed his arm. My grip was firm enough to stop him in his tracks, but he refused to make eye contact with me.
“What’s your fucking problem?” I yelled.
He dropped his head and shook it slightly, clearly defeated. “Why would you let that guy flirt with you?”
I was dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Lennon. I want to be with you, and you fucking know it. And you know what’s worse? I think you want to be with me, too. So why—why would you let that guy flirt with you, knowing full well there’s someone right fucking next to you who wants you all to himself?”
I was shaken, left with no rebuttal. He was right in more ways than I wanted to admit. If there was anyone I wanted to be with, it was him. But I didn’t admit it. And Greg was flirty—and maybe I liked it.
I hung my head, unable to answer.
“Goddammit, Lennon, I want you so fucking badly!” he shouted to the sky.
I shoved his chest, my emotions tangling beyond control. “I don’t want anyone else, Asher—Jesus! Stop pushing me!”
He stumbled backward, then froze, catching the hitch in my words. “You don’t want anyone…or anyone else?”
I paused, understanding dawning, and shook my head in frustration. “No one! Fuck! I don’t want anyone, okay?”
Emotion tore through me, my chest fluctuating as my breath came out clipped and uneven. I watched him smile faintly, shaking his head at me.
“I don’t fucking believe that for a minute,” he whispered.
Frustrated with his persistence, I stormed off, turning down a back lane. There was a shortcut nearby—anything to get me home and out of this.
I could feel Asher following me, but pressure clogged my ears, muffling his voice. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Why was he pushing me this hard? And why was it so difficult to untangle the truth—that I wanted him and didn’t want him at the same time?
“Lennon, wait up!” he called out.
I ignored him.
An arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. He leaned his forehead into mine. “Stop, please,” he pleaded.
I shook my head, fighting against his grip. Twisting out of his arms, I shoved him.
He let me drive him back into the brick wall. I shoved him again and again, until he grabbed my shoulders, spun me around, and slammed me into it instead.
He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand. I was fire. I was fury—a wild animal cornered—until his other hand tilted my chin upward, forcing my gaze into his stunning, blue eyes. The rage drained from me, replaced by a deep-seated calm.
The look in his eyes was unmistakable—pure possession. The air between us thickened with emotions, so heavy I didn’t even register his mouth crashing onto mine.
His lips parted as he breathed life into me. His grip loosened on my wrists, while subconsciously I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
We were inseparable, refusing to breathe, afraid we might miss one last kiss. It was frantic, eager, desperate. I didn’t want to stop—for fear that I might not want to continue. For fear that he might not want to, either.
His arms reached underneath me, cupping my ass and hoisting me up into his arms. I wrapped my legs firmly around him while he pushed me against the wall.
I ran my fingers through his short buzz cut, scratching his scalp as he moaned into my mouth.
Before I could stop myself, I moaned, “I need you.”
Every atom in my body froze. My eyes shot open, wide and terrified of what I had just admitted. But it was true. I needed him. Now.
He opened his eyes, too, searching my face, confirming that he’d heard me correctly.
