I bite my lip to hold in a laugh. I didn’t, but the nose ache is worth it. I’m going to remember how fun it is to rile him up.
Asher grumbles under his breath as I devour a Chile Relleño burrito, and I quirk a brow at him when he re-adjusts in his seat for the millionth time.
“What’s your deal today?” I ask, and you might think he was the shifter if you didn’t know better. His impression of a deer in headlights is spot on.
I swallow and lick my lips; his eyes drop to my mouth again, then skim my neck, then lower before quickly averting to the metal high-top table between us.
He clears his throat before a mumbled “M’fine” is aimed at the floor.
Very convincing.
I crumple up the aluminum wrapper and hop up off the tall stool.
“Ready to head back?” I ask.
He pins me with a glare as he pointedly grabs his cross-body leather bag from the table, and I pinch my lips between my teeth.
This is so fun.
I'm pretty sure he’s not actually mad. His lips keep inching up at the corners and I’m determined to get him to break at some point. I will get another laugh out of him if it’s the last thing I do.
We’reboth relaxing back at the hotel when I send a text to the family chat, checking in and letting them know I'm doing alright with the full moon. I don’t get a reply, but I didn’t expect one.
I check in with Zuri too, asking if her and Reverie want to FaceTime, but apparently Rev is out of commission—crashed on the couch after a sugar high with evidence sent in the form of a very unflattering picture, and Zuri is about to get in the shower after a run.
Asher is on his laptop at the desk and I can see the screen from where I’m propped on our practice-area floor pillows. A low note of disapproval rumbles from his throat, and I catch sight of a new email at the top of his inbox.
From: Claude Walton
Subject: Urgent
Son, this has gone on long enough. We have important news…
Asher deletes it without opening the message, then snaps his laptop closed. My brows furrow, but his family is a sensitive subject and we aren’t that close yet, so I don’t pry.
“How did today go?” Asher’s voice breaks into my doom-scrolling a short while later, and I struggle to pull myself out of the social media zombie brain I’ve fallen into.
“Fine?”
“I mean with the shifting and the full moon and all that.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, pretty normal actually.” I shrug.
“Cool.”
“How’d your day go?”
“Great, zero unexpected animal parts popping up on my body,” he replies.
“Hilarious," I deadpan as I pin him with a mock glare.
He smirks in response and leans back in the desk chair as he watches me.
The silence between us is palpable, and after a few moments I look intently at his shoulder, just below his left ear. I squint my eyes as I lean forward, then I widen them dramatically.
“What? What is it!” He’s twisting and turning, trying to see whatever it is I see, and I burst out laughing.
Asher freezes with one hand fisted in his shirt, stretching the collar and sleeve as he looks over at me. He drops his hand with a glare and then slowly stands. It’s like a switch flips and the predator has suddenly awoken.
