My heart flutters at the word. Why the hell does he keep playing my heartstrings today?
I mean, why would he call my apartment home? Does he really think of it as one?
When I don’t move, he closes in on me.
He’ll take me back to the apartment, bring me to orgasm, and then sleep in another room as if I have the plague or something.
It’s time I change that.
Today, things will go my way, not his.
I step out of reach and fold my arms over my chest. His sharp glare makes me drop them on either side of me. Fine. I can do it without crossing my arms.
After all, Asher has other triggers.
“What makes you think I want to go with you? I was making plans to have drinks with Owen and Bastian.”
His face doesn’t betray his emotions, but the stiffness of his shoulders does. There’s something I’ve learned about Asher: he’s possessive to a fault. After I lost my memories, he tried to hide it, but it’s deep in him. I often catch him glaring at the male cheerleaders and any guy who talks to me. Besides, he admitted to wanting to hurt them whenever they touch me.
If I want to get something different out of him, I need to stir up his ugly side.
Luring the lion in his den is dangerous but thrilling.
Sure, I might end up paying a higher price than I bargained for, but if it manages to break the pattern, it’s worth it.
“Is that so?” he asks with a lethal undertone.
“Totally. You just ruined my plans, dude.”
“Reina,” he grunts, as if he’s on the verge of blowing.
“What, Ash?” I feign nonchalance.
His hand shoots my way and he wraps it around my upper arm in a deadly grip, making me wince. With a tug from him, I end up flush against his hard chest, rising and falling with his harsh breaths.
My nipples tighten and my bare stomach erupts in tingles with every brush against his T-shirt.
This close, his sandalwood and citrus scent envelops me in a halo, both smothering and liberating.
When he speaks, goosebumps form across my sensitive flesh. “I know what you’re doing, prom queen, and you’ll regret it.”
You’ll regret it.
Although those words should scare me, something entirely different courses through my veins.
Yes, fear is still there. It snaps my shoulder blades together and keeps me on my toes. It’s the Asher effect; there’s no way to tell what he’s going to do next when he’s in such a mood.
The moment we step into the elevator and it closes on only the two of us, Asher types in the code to my apartment. I never asked him how he got it, but I don’t care right now.
He’s still silent like on the ride here. My thumb moves up and down the strap of my bag in an absentminded caress as I watch his side profile.
My toes curl in my flats and my heart rate hasn’t been able to go down since we left campus.
It’s like my body is a flame waiting for oxygen so it burns everything in its wake.
Asher hasn’t touched me, though.
Why isn’t he touching me?