My senses spark with the danger.
He takes a single, deliberate step toward me, and I shriek as I jump to my feet and dive across the room. I'm aiming for the bed, but don’t get there before he intercepts me. He snags my waist and yanks me back into his hard chest.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting with this little game, but tickling was not it. His fingers somehow find every ticklish spot I wish didn’t exist. I'm laughing and kicking out at him, but I can’t find purchase and somehow he evades every swipe. Distantly, my skin tingles, but I can’t process in the moment what shift is happening or where.
“You dare play tricks on me, little shifter?” He growls at me, and his fingers dance along my ribs.
“Never!” I twist in his hold as I shriek another laugh, but it cuts off when a thudding sound booms from the wall next to us.
We both freeze for a split second before I turn in his grasp and split into giggles, hiding in his arms and pressing my face into his shirt with both hands covering my mouth.
“Oh my stars, the neighbors! What do you think they thought was happening?”
He doesn’t answer me though, and I peer up at him as myhands drop from my mouth. I vaguely notice cheetah spots fading back into my skin, but my attention isn’t on myself. Asher looks thunderstruck, frozen, and his hands around my waist clench tight.
“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m sure it’s fine, it’s not like they’re going to kick us out for one noise complaint.” I try to soothe him, gently placing a hand on his chest, but nothing I say changes his demeanor.
“Asher?”
I wait a moment, my head angling to the side, and when his gaze doesn’t follow me, I reach up and boop his nose.
His head jerks back, and he snaps back into the present moment.
“What was that?” he asks, his voice gravelly.
“Mewhat was that? More likeyou,what was that!” This is ridiculous. I'm starting to think he might want to get his head checked. I mean yeah, everyone zones out sometimes, but he seems to be doing it a lot this week.
He shakes his head in consternation.
“You good?” I ask, more seriously this time, and he nods as our gazes lock.
“Yeah, I’m good.” His eyes soften as he looks down at me. “Should we try some stretching while we’re here?” He gestures to the blanket under our feet, and I shrug.
“Sure, might as well. You think stretching will help too?”
“I do," he says, and that’s that.
We start with tandem breathing, and I revel in the opportunity to ogle him. Obviously, I need to stare at his chest in order to follow his breathing, and if his t-shirt is a little stretched, who am I to complain when it clings to his muscles like that?
He has to clear his throat multiple times to remind me to do the stretch with him when I stare at his lean muscles for too long without mimicking the movements. I'm beyond feelingabashed for it at this point, so I smirk or shrug before leaning into the stretch.
After he demonstrates a few basic ones, he stands and moves around behind me.
“Keep going,” he says, “I’ll help deepen them a bit.”
I'm surrounded by him as I pull in a deep breath, and when I exhale, his hands urge me a little further into it. We do this in a few different poses, with him adjusting his position around me, and my skin has been tingling for far too many uncomfortable minutes at this point.
“Have I shifted?” I finally ask, blinking up at him from where I’m stretched out on my back and straightening my legs as he pulls away.
His eyes flick along my body. “Not that I can see.”
“Huh. It’s felt like I was going to for a while now.”
His eyebrows jump up.
“Maybe you should try to shift on purpose. If it’s already close to the surface, this could be a good chance to gain some more control.”
I’m kind of annoyed I hadn’t thought of that myself, but to be fair, he’s quite distracting. Especially braced above me with his hands on my skin, pushing my bent leg into my chest. Anyone would be distracted in that kind of situation.
