Air deserted my lungs. I lifted my gaze into dark brown eyes locked on mine—adamant, unblinking—before they cut to Kyle.
Asher towered over him, arms crossing in slow precision, broad shoulders tense. A dark strand fell over his forehead, and I hated that I noticed. I always noticed.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Asher.”
He didn’t answer, only stared, and annoyance blazed through me. What the hell was he doing here? Did his date already bore him?
“Who’s he, Kaia?” Kyle asked, letting go of me.
Asher’s gaze turned glacial, freezing me in place. “I’m her—” His jaw flexed. The words stuck.
I tipped my chin up. “He’s my brother.”
Asher’s eyes widened, a flash too quick to miss. He hated it.
Good. His behavior pissed me off too.
He dragged a hand down his face. “Come on, Kaia. I’ll take you home.”
Seriously? He thought he could date whoever he wanted while I got ordered home like a kid? Rage flared hot in my chest. I grabbed Kyle’s hand and pressed it back to my waist. “No. As you can see, we were in the middle of something.”
Asher ignored me, pinning Kyle with another withering look.
“It’s early,” Kyle said, buying into the big-brother act.
“Too bad.” Asher shrugged, scowling. “She has a curfew.”
My breath hitched. Curfew? What a dick.
I crossed my arms. “No.”
Asher rubbed his forehead, sighing. “Damn it, Kaia.”
Kyle’s gaze ping-ponged between us. Shit. We were making a scene, and with my luck, Mandy or someone else would notice. Then I’d have to explain who Asher really was to more people than Kyle.
I deflated like a week-old balloon. “Sorry, Kyle. I’ve got to go. Being the younger sibling sucks. See you at school.”
His shoulders sagged. “No problem.”
He was a good guy. If only I could order my irrational heart to want him instead of the scowling man beside me.
I’d felt nothing when Kyle touched me. But the second Asher’s hand pressed lightly to my lower back, guiding me toward the couch where I’d left my coat, my skin buzzed. My breath hitched, hyperaware of that simple touch.
I shrugged him off and yanked my coat from the cushion. He looked like he wanted to help me into it, but I shook my head and pulled it on myself. He didn’t get to make me look like a child in front of Kyle and then pretend to care.
We stepped outside and headed toward his bike in silence. He grabbed his leather jacket off the seat and shrugged it on, movements taut with tension. When he handed me a helmet, our fingers brushed, and sparks shot down my arms.
None of it was fair. I still wasn’t over the way he’d treated me.
“What’s wrong with you?” I clutched the helmet, my knuckles aching. “You had no right to do that in front of Kyle.”
Asher zipped his jacket. “Your Kyle will live.”
Pressure burned behind my eyes. I blinked hard, refusing to cry. “Why, Asher? You get to be at the club, but I have to go home?”
“I’m not in high school,” he deadpanned. “You are.”
The words cut deeper than anything else he’d thrown at me. Was that really such a problem? What would he say if he knew I’d repeated a year?
