Screw him. He could flirt with whoever he wanted, but I couldn’t dance with a guy at eighteen without Asher causing a scene?
I lifted my chin, locking my gaze with his. “I might be in high school, but you’re an asshole.”
He stepped forward. Then again. Close enough that the heat from his body wrapped around me.
“Maybe I am,” he whispered. “But you know what I’m not?”
A reply died in my throat. Thoughts scattered, leaving me stranded in the storm of his dark eyes, his scent, the pull he had on me. I shook my head, hoping weakly it would be enough.
Asher ripped his helmet off the handlebar. “Your fucking brother.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kaia
The next morning, I joined Sharon and Dad for breakfast. They were laughing at something but stopped the moment I entered the kitchen.
“Good morning,” I said, heading for the toaster, already feeling like an outsider.
Sharon gave me her usual too-polite smile. “Good morning, Kaia. Sleep well?”
“Yeah. How was your night out?”
Dad chuckled. “Very nice. Too bad I have to work today. A few more hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt.”
I poured myself cocoa, grabbed toast, and sat at the table. As I took a bite, Asher walked in. Even in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, he looked unfairly good. I sipped my drink, trying to calm the flutter in my stomach his nearness always sparked. How could I still feel that way after last night?
It didn’t matter how good he looked—I hadn’t forgiven him. He’d dropped me off and wished me good night as if he hadn’t caused a scene at the club. Why did I expect an apology, or at least a word about it?
Asher fixed a coffee and leaned against the counter. Our eyes met, and I drowned my nerves with a gulp of cocoa.
Unaffected, he stalked to the table and sat beside me. My skin prickled with awareness. Why here? Why not across from me? I needed to break whatever hold he had. Luckily, I had something to tell Dad.
“Dad,” I began.
He scrolled through his phone, not even glancing up. “Huh?”
Sharon pressed against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Unlike his, her eyes stayed on me.
“My winter showcase is at seven p.m. next Friday. We can invite family, so if you two want to come…”
“I’ll need to check my calendar.” Dad set his phone down. “Pretty sure I have a meeting in Emerport.”
Sharon’s lips parted, then closed again, as if unsure she should speak.
“Emerport isn’t that far.” Asher’s voice beside me made my head snap his way, despite my vow to ignore him.
He toyed with his napkin. “Even if the meeting’s in the afternoon, you could still make it.”
Was this his idea of apologizing? Did he really think convincing Dad to promise he’d watch me dance erased what happened at the club? If so, he was wrong. Still, something tugged at me. Pathetic, how a crumb of attention could undo me. Was this how Mandy felt about Dean? One kind word, and she melted?
“I’d rather not rush back,” Dad said. “The only thing you should worry about is excelling this academic year, Kaia. Dancing’s just a hobby.”
The weight of disappointment crushed my chest. I never planned to dance for a living, but it was my escape—something I was good at. “I know.” I swallowed the golf-ball lump that made breathing hard.
Dad picked up his phone again. “I mean it, Kaia. Studies should always come first, especially now.”
Asher pushed to his feet. He strode to the sink, dumped out his coffee, and set the mug in the dishwasher. “I’ve got to go.”
