When the pain of the words matches the pain of my hand, I release the clench and hold my hand up high to my chest, cradling it with care. Asher reaches for me again, his eyes carnal as he takes a step forward and grabs the injured hand with his and puts it up to his heart. “Emma—”
“I’m fine.” I try to pull my hand back but he pulls it toward him. His other hand inches up and rests on the side of my face, his fingers tangle in my hair. My chin rises but my eyes keep their concentration on the zipper of his jacket and the heavy rise and fall of his chest.
“No, you’re not. Neither of us are.” Asher’s thumb grazes my lip and I let out a sigh at the feel of his touch. I recall the taste of his lips and the feel of his hands as they work their way along my body.
My body may want him but my heart is in pieces.
“I need you to leave.”
His body jolts against mine. “What?”
“Leave.”
My cheek feels an instant chill as his hand releases me. The pain in my right hand still burns but when he releases it, it feels like its being crushed by four thousand pounds of metal again.
I hug my body tight and look up at him. His jaw is hollowed and his face is clenched. “Emma, I—I don’t know how to tell you. I’m trying to show you how I feel. I’m not good at this.”
I sniff back a tear and breathe deep into my gut. “You need to leave.”
My eyes clench shut and I hold them still, waiting for him to move. When I open them it is just in time to see him back away, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks around the room one more time before gaining his full composure. Right before my eyes I watch as the Asher Gutierrez I met in Italy becomes the Alexander Asher I know he really is. The man who uses and takes. He didn’t get what he wanted so he is walking out the door.
I walk over to the window and watch him cross the street and climb on his motorcycle. He revs the engine and then just sits there idling, looking at my front door as if waiting for me to come out.
I must be a glutton for punishment because, for a brief moment, I consider going outside and going with him. Absolutely not. I have pride.
He’s forgetting he accused me of dishonesty and trickery. I can’t forget the way he made me feel, standing with my bare feet looking at a sea void of his presence. He left me. He disappeared.
And what did I do?
I followed him to New York.
“When you first took the job in New York I thought it was because he lived there. Like you needed to be near him or something.” Leah’s words echo in my head. I lean down and let out a low scream at the fact she was absolutely right. I didn’t know if he would be here. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. But I have to stop lying to myself and own up to the fact I wanted to see him. And he’s here, looking devastatingly gorgeous and saying the right words and he wants me to follow him.
“There is a fire between us, Emma, and I know we’re gonna get burned.”
I walk over to the front door and slam it shut.
Gasping.
Gasping.
Breathing is too hard.
I need to count.
Beats.
One, two, three, four . . .
One, two . . .
Gasp.
One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four.
Breathe.
Breathing.
It’s pitch black and the clock confirms it’s the middle of the night. My shirt is plastered to my back. Sweat is trickling down my chest, starting at my forehead. I wipe my hand across my head, brushing the hairs stuck to my skin away from my face.
I had a dream. We were in the car driving fast. So fast. This time, instead of asking Luke to drive fast, I was begging him to stop. My voice shouting over the radio, pleading with him to save his life.
He wouldn’t listen. His foot like a lead weight pushed down on the accelerator and all of a sudden there was a bolt of lightening. Everything went white and then there was a fire. Raging fire. Burning. We crashed and we were burning. When I stepped back to see if Luke was okay, his face had changed, morphed into someone else.
It was Asher.