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Whenever I used to talk back to Asher, he’d give me looks of suspicion or even surprise. Those have completely disappeared lately. Now, he just watches me with all these dark, heated stares that flip my stomach upside down.
“I'll just go,” Jason offers, s
hooting an undecipherable glance at Asher before he rounds the corner.
“Put me down,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.
Surprisingly, he does set me on my feet, but he doesn't remove his hand from around my waist. He's too close, my breasts colliding with his chest…his hard, naked chest that’s glistening with sweat.
My senses fill with his sandalwood and citrus scent, like a warm, sunny day. The place where his hand touches me erupts with heat even though my top serves as a barrier.
My pulse picks up pace the more his attention swallows me whole. It's like he can reach inside me and flip a switch to bring me back to life.
Refusing to get sucked into his orbit, I glare full on. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He motions at the trampoline. “You said you want to practice. I'll catch you.”
“I was doing that just fine with Jason.”
His grip tightens until I wince and his voice comes low. “Is this a new game?”
“What's the game in practicing with Jason?”
“The fact that you never hung out with him before, or that you never called him a friend.”
“Well, I do now.”
“What changed?”
“Me. I changed, Ash. I'm not the same Reina you used to know.”
“Asher.” His jaw ticks as if he’s searching for patience. “The name is Asher.”
“That’s one more thing that’s changed. I like Ash better.”
He pauses for a second too long. I made him speechless, and my insides dance at the thought. It’s so rare to make Asher Carson speechless.
His free hand trails up to my cheek and winds around my throat, but he’s not squeezing. He’s merely running his fingers along my skin, as if re-learning it.
Heat invades me and goosebumps form on the skin he touches.
“You’ve changed,” he says slowly.
Finally.
“You’re even blushing.”
“I'm not,” I yell, but even I can feel the pits of fire on my cheeks.
He runs the pad of his calloused thumb over my cheek as if to prove a point, to lure me into his trap like a predator would do to its prey.
“Is that so, Reina?”
“Stop it,” I hiss, looking around. We're in view of the staff’s entrance. Anyone could come out and see us.
“I wonder what I’ll find if I check.”
“Check what?” I breathe.
