He takes a second to answer. A second that feels far too long and far too weighted.
"Are you?"
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
His eyes search mine.
And for a second, the teasing drops. His blue eyes flash with something I can't name.
He leans in. His mouth hovers over mine.
Close enough that I can feel his breath. Close enough that if I tilt my chin half an inch our lips would touch. I want him to kiss me.
But he doesn't.
His lips brush my cheek instead.
Slow. Intentional.
I inhale sharply. "Asher."
He hums against my skin. The vibration of the rough sound causing the butterflies in my stomach to dance.
His mouth drifts lower. The corner of my lips. My jaw. He still doesn't kiss me.
He traces my skin, skims it.
He lets his lips ghost the edge of mine and then pulls back just enough to smile.
I huff.
"You're impatient," he murmurs.
"I am not."
"You are." I can practically hear the knowing grin in his voice.
He pulls back and raises a taunting brow at me. I glance away from his eyes, staring instead at the freckle against his neck below his left ear.
See the way his muscles tense before he dips again.
This time the side of my mouth.
I turn my head to his lips, trying to brush them, chase them.
He pulls back with that maddening raised brow.
I narrow my eyes, pushing my lips. "You're doing that on purpose."
"Doing what?"
My narrowed eyes turn to a glare. He only smiles wider. "Teasing."
He chuckles softly.
"Anticipation, Ivy." He stares into my eyes. "Now are you going to let me continue?"
