Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
For obvious reasons.
Asher’s stare brands my cheek as we trail Punk and Atlas toward the store. Lucinda's already taken point, shopping list clutched like a battle plan.
I skip to the front and away from Asher.
“What are you doing?” Luce asks, her eyes flying over my shoulder when I interrupt her search for herbs and spices. “Are you two fighting already?”
“What?” Shit. Are we? No. Surely not.
“—Nah,” his voice brushes the nape of my neck as he curls an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. “Right?” He nips at my throat.
Turning in his grip and coming face-to-face with his chest, my fingers trace their way up his neck, tracing the leaves that disappear behind his ear.
I bury my hands into the back of his hair. “I'm sorry about Parker.” I’m testing the words before I ask the one question I want to know. “What happened between you two?”
His face remains passive, mouth set in a straight line. His jaw locks tight, throwing shadows in all the wrong places that somehow work.
My thumbs rest on either side as I study his eyes. I once thought they reminded me of the ocean, but that isn't it. They're winter. The color of ice with fracture lines running deep beneath the surface.
His grip tightens, pulling me in until our heartbeats collide. He dips his forehead to mine. “Don’t apologize. Not to me. Parker and I are nothing serious. I’m sure we’ll work it out.”
We have a bad habit of never checking our surroundings any time we’re together. I’ll blame it on the fact that I have Luce, and Punk…but deep down I know it’s because whenever we’re together, the world doesn’t exist.
His tongue swipes his bottom lip. “Can I ask you something? Since we are testing this no zone thing?”
“Anything,” I say, but my smile dies quickly because why the hell did I say that? I walked right into a trap. Weak.
His thumb traces my cheekbone. The touch feels too soft for the violence gathering in his eyes. His pupils blow wide, and the air shifts around us.
Time stretches. Luce's warnings crawl up my spine. Jord's doubts sink into my ribs.
What if they see something I'm too close to recognize? What lives under all that careful control?
“Does he hurt you?”
My smile slips. The words hit harder than a blow to the ribs.
“You don't need to lie to me,” he adds softly, the veins in his neck swelling to the surface.
This is deep. Too deep. It’s a danger zone if I’d ever felt one. It also shows just how much he’s been watching. More than I gave him credit for.
“Uh.” I clear my throat. “No, he doesn’t hurt me.”
I step out of his grip, reaching for the first thing I can find. “So! Are you going to teach me how to make this famous dish you were talking about?” Changing the subject has never worked on Asher, and when it does, he makes sure that I know he isn’t letting it go.
But right now, he’s not letting up. The twitch in his jaw only hardens, his eyes dead on me.
I sigh, lowering the herbs to the rack and stepping back into his space. His breathing is measured, but it’s barely controlled.
“He doesn't, okay?” I say, leaving the words out in the open between us. It’s not enough. He's still staring down at me with that same expression. The one that has the power to strip away every single wall I’d ever built around myself.
I know there are people watching.
I know this will look really fucking bad from the outside looking in, but I don’t care.
My fingers join behind his neck as I lean up on my toes so that only he can hear me. “I promise he doesn't hurt me merely as much as I could hurt him.”
I skim my lips over his, kissing him so light only he could tell. Kneading my fingers into the strands of his hair, I angle my head to the side. His restraint crumbles like a fortress under siege, his muscles finally relaxing as he catches me around my waist, leaning down to claim my mouth properly.
Oh shit. Well. Everyone is going to see this as clear as day if they’re watching.
A little part of me hopes that they are.
Chapter 19
Ivy
Ipull the beige fur-lined hood up against the biting wind as Daniel navigates the city car through Mount Grim's base terminal. The final Winter Games. Asher dominates these mountains, and the past two that I’ve attended I’ve tried to ignore the fact that he finds me in every crowd.
“Fuck, Ivy,” Atlas whistles low from beside me, his gaze dropping to where my black pants cling to every curve. “That ass?”
I turn slowly, letting my lips curve into something that isn't quite a smile. “Keep looking at it like that, and I'll use it to suffocate you in your sleep.”