What is all of that supposed to mean?
He can’t possibly not want me, because he gets so hard the moment we’re done. He also watches me like he wants to fuck me in the most ruthless way possible, like he wants to choke me and cum inside me.
However, he’s not acting on it.
Seriously, if he continues stimulating my body in that unapologetic, wild way, I’ll end up begging him to fuck me already.
For some reason, I don’t think that’ll work with him, though.
Asher has impressive self-restraint, which is all part of his intense dominance. He thrives on control and applies it to himself as well. It’s nearly impossible to bust his walls down unless he leaves some sort of opening.
Eye for an eye.
Those words he told me keep bouncing in my head. Revenge, or rather justice. That’s what they mean, right?
Whenever I touch his tattoo, he closes off completely. He might still sleep beside me, but he turns stone-cold, like the Asher I met when I first opened my eyes at the hospital.
He’s here beside me, but sometimes, he’s not. A burst of loneliness hits me whenever he cuts me off and disappears inside his black castle with high towers and metal gates.
My chest constricts at the thought that he might never forgive me.
Every castle has an opening; I just need to search closer to find it.
I need to figure out what he thinks I did and fix it somehow—or at least hope it’s fixable.
Because I don’t want to have parts of Asher while he keeps the others hidden.
I want the light and the darkness. The sanity and the madness. The beauty and the ugliness.
I want everything.
Just like I need him to accept me whole.
With a smile, I tell Lucy and Prescott to tell me about their decision after lunch, then I leave them alone.
Fine, I might have started helping Prescott in his quest with Lucy. She’s obviously interested in him, but she’s always backed off, thinking he had eyes for Bree.
Speaking of which, I make my way down the hall. I don’t bother with greeting the students who laugh in my face and write nasty comments on that shady Instagram account.
I don’t owe them anything. If they don’t like me, get in freaking line and stop being hypocrites.
Bree grabs her books, lowering her head. Since she was kicked off the cheerleading squad last week, she’s been the latest gossip around campus.
Naomi made it clear Bree’s not welcome to sit at our table at lunch, and everyone else on the squad has been steering clear of her.
Blackwood-Black-Book posts about her more than me now.
As soon as she sees me, she glares and brushes past me.
“Do you want your place back?”
She stops in her tracks and turns around as the last of the students trickle outside. It’s only her and me now.
“Is this some trick?” she snarls.
“A trade.” I face her and cross my arms over my chest.
Asher doesn’t like it when I do that, but it doesn’t matter when I’m with other people. Besides, I need all my forts to face the enemy.