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I'm not sure how to explain it, but in this moment, I feel the energy shift between us. The competitive nature he brings out in me, takes a backseat while I allow myself to just exist with someone. After all, isn't that what we are all after?
We move, laying on our sides facing each other and I share my story. He stays quiet, nodding at intervals as I fill him in on the poker games and the rival biker club that suddenly has it out for me. And when I'm done, Asher reaches over, locking his fingers with mine, holding my hand.
And then I drift off, finally finding the first peaceful sleep I've had in ages.
The smell of food wakes me. The room is dark, but my stomach rumbles, the scent teasing me.
I hear movement, followed by the flick of the lamp next to my bed. The light temporarily blinds me as I sit up, rubbing my eyes. When I open them, Asher is in front of me, a bowl of steaming pasta and a cold glass of soda in his hands.
"I thought you might be hungry," he murmurs, setting it down on the bedside drawers.
I smile at him. "It smells great. I'm really hungry, actually."
Asher sits on the bed, reaching out to grab my hand. I watch our fingers as they entwine, taken back that it hadn't been a dream. He was actually here, caring for me. It's like two worlds have finally collided, and we came out the other side.
I grab the bowl, digging into the pasta like a ravenous, mad woman. There's something about painkillers that always makes me hungry afterwards. Though, I also haven't eaten since the donut at the park.
"Hold on," Asher says, reaching forward. His thumb wipes my chin, revealing a drop of sauce. I watch in fascination as he lifts his hand, sucking the sauce from his finger.
"That was mine," I finally say, trying to break the tension.
Asher dips his finger in the bowl, gathering up more sauce on his finger. "Oh, sorry," he replies, holding out his hand to me.
My mouth engulfs his finger without even thinking about it, my lips sealing tight as I suck. His grey eyes narrow as he watches me, but I keep sucking, even after the taste of the sauce is long gone.
Truthfully, he tastes better than any food I've ever had.
It crosses my mind that we're stepping into dangerous territory again, so I pull back, thanking him for his generosity.
Asher clears his throat, shuffling back to create some much needed distance between us.
"How are you feeling?" he asks.
"Like I got hit by a truck."
He nods. "Not surprised. You're a tough cookie though. But, you're lucky your injuries weren't serious."
I nod, agreeing. I know if Leo and his friend had their way, I probably would have left in a body bag. Butch had warned me about the Norsemen, but apparently their reputation still preceded them. They want to be feared and have power. And I can't help but worry that I have caused some tension between the two clubs. All over a game of poker.
Putting the empty bowl down, I grab the drink, offering some to Asher. "Thank you for being so nice."
Asher looks at me in surprise. "Why wouldn't I be?"
I shrug. "The heated rivalry between us?"
He erupts into laughter, making me smile. "What?" I ask.
"I don't see you as my rival, Rylee. You're my equal."
Weird feelings tug at my insides again, and it has nothing to do with the bruising. I brush them aside, quickly reaching for a distraction.
"So, what's my next dare?"
Asher frowns. "You still want to play?"
"Yeah, why not? Are you afraid I'll beat you?" I taunt.
"I thought… it doesn't matter. Yeah, we can still play. But not tonight. Let's leave it a day or two until you're in a better position. I don't want you to say I took advantage when I kick your ass."
