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Glancing at Asher, sitting beside me on the other end of the couch, I took in his relaxed posture, his ankle up on the opposite knee, hand resting loosely around the glass of whiskey as he watched me watch him. He didn’t seem anxious; in fact, he looked downright tranquil, making me wonder if my worries about this situation were completely unfounded. Maybe I was making way more out of us than I needed to be. After all, so far it, was just sex.
Really, really fantastic sex, but still.
What did I really know about this guy, anyway?
So what if he was stupidly good looking, all dark and handsome with his smoldering eyes and that beard that did amazing things when he rubbed it against me.
So what if he was smart and funny and masculine in a completely non-toxic way that made me want to offer myself up in a distinctly un-feminist fashion.
So what if he introduced me to his loving and supportive family who had warmly accepted me in all my tattooed, snarky glory, had made room for my goat without question, and even invited me back anytime, as though they actually found my presence tolerable enough to endure a second dose.
So fucking what, right?
Ugh. This was stupid. The intelligent thing to do would be to straight up ask him. Ask Asher what he wanted and where he thought this was heading. That way, when he told me he was just looking for a little casual fun, I could tell him that I wanted the same and then my boundaries would be clear.
No sweat. I could do that.
I could.
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I sat a little higher on the couch, squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath, but just as I was about to open my mouth, a loud crash sounded throughout the apartment.
“What the fuck?” I shouted as Asher dove for me, covering my body with his and preventing me from seeing what was happening. “Asher, what?”
“Stay down, Ricki,” he barked, his voice strained. “Don’t move.”
Of course I was going to move; who the hell did he think he was talking to?
Shoving hard against his chest, I managed to shift his heavy weight enough so that I could look past his torso to see what the hell was going on.
“What the fuck?” I growled, staring at the brick in the middle of my living room floor, surrounded by shards of glass. “Someone through a fucking brick through my window? Who would—fuck.”
Because the question was unnecessary. Asher and I both knew who would throw a brick through my goddamn window.
Fucking Javier.
Chapter thirty-six
Asher
“Whatthehellisthat guy’s problem?” I asked, lifting off of Ricki and helping her to sit up again before I moved to the broken window, looking to see if there was anyone on the street below.
Considering it was after midnight on Halloween, the street was, once again, surprisingly empty.
Fuck.
“He’s an idiot, that’s what,” Ricki tried to joke, but her face was pale, and her eyes wide. She was scared, and that pissed me off.
I may have overreacted a bit when that brick had come through the window, but the sound had been so sudden and jarring, I hadn’t been sure what the hell was even happening. For all I knew, it was a bullet, not a brick.
The thought made me pause. The fact that that douchebag Javier hadn’t actually resorted to a firearm yet was honestly surprising, but things were starting to escalate to the point where that would probably be his next step.
He might not be satisfied just fucking with Ricki and her business; he wanted to hurt her.
Really hurt her.
“I mean, honestly. You insult a guy’s masculinity one freaking time and he fucks with you forever? That is some serious small dick energy right there.”
“Ricki,thisis serious.” I got up off the couch and grabbed my boots from the front door before snatching the empty takeout bag off the counter. Heading back over to the broken window, I carefully knelt on the carpet and began to gather up the pieces of broken glass. “I wish you’d call the cops. This is the kind of shit they deal with all the time.”
