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I nod, standing. “You can just drop me off back at my place,” I say. “And thank you so much for letting me stay last night—I was just so freaked out.”
Asher stares at me blankly. “Drop you at your place?” he finally repeats when I don’t elaborate.
“Yeah.”
A disgruntled look settles over his features. “That’s not happening.” He brushes past me, striding out the door of his office and down the hall. Startled, I simply follow him.
“What?” is all I can think to say.
“You’re not going back to your place alone,” Asher says simply without turning around.
I jog to catch up to him, and we step into the elevator together. “It’s not like I can just abandon my apartment,” I say with a laugh.
“Until we know what’s going on with that guy who attacked you and whoever left that note in your door, yes you can,” Asher argues.
“But—”
“Don’t argue, Olivia,” Asher says, seeming exhausted. “My place is plenty big enough for both of us, and you’re safe there.” He turns to me, and I see genuine concern in his eyes. “Don’t fight me on this.”
I swallow, unable to argue with the logic of his words. “Okay.”
He nods in approval.
The elevator opens to the parking garage, and we make our way to Asher’s car. The ride back to his penthouse is silent, as well as the walk into the building and the elevator ride.
When we walk into his place, I set my purse and laptop bag on the counter, running my fingers through my hair awkwardly. I sneak a glance at Asher without him noticing. He seems just as tense as I do.
I can’t help but remember how he’d taken me on his desk back at the office. How he’d laid me bare and had his way with me. My cheeks heat at just the memory. I glance around the vast apartment wondering what it would be like for him to fuck me over his couch or the dining room table.
Shocked at my own thoughts, I try to push them from my mind.
“How does Indian food sound for dinner?” Asher asks me. “I usually order in.”
I nod. “That sounds great.”
He places an order on his phone then shrugs off his jacket, hanging it on a hook in the entryway. “I’m going to change. Make yourself at home. Water, drinks, anything in the fridge is fair game,” he says as he turns down the hallway, heading to the last door and what I assume is his bedroom. I haven’t seen it. It’s next to the bedroom I’d slept in last night.
I take a deep breath, grabbing a glass from a cabinet above the sink and filling it with water.
A few moments later, Asher emerges, dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and dark gray sweatpants. Despite the casual clothing, he still looks so put together, so expensive, sohot.
God, he’s hot.
I can’t quite focus on anything else.
He brushes past me, our arms touching briefly, and opens the fridge, retrieving a sparkling water. I watch him as he takes a sip, and then his gaze lands on me. I quickly look away. I bite my lip, glancing sideways, out the windows to the darkened sky outside. There’s no denying that Asher’s apartment is incredible. The height of luxury, the most beautiful home I’ve been in.
But I wonder when I’ll be able to go back home. When I can feel safe in my apartment again. When my stalker, or whatever he is, is finally gone.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Asher says, leaning against the counter.
I glance back at him and shrug. “Just wondering when I’ll be able to go home.”
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like,” Asher says. His tone is forceful, like he’s ordering me to believe him. And while I do believe him, something strange settles in the pit of my stomach. I frown, staring down at my glass.
“What?” Asher prompts.
“I just …” I start. I swallow. “I don’t want to impose, and I don’t want—”
