I search for Jason. He stands by the side, rubbing the back of his neck and appearing uncomfortable.

Did Asher push him out of the way or something?

“You can go, Jason.” Asher is speaking to him, but his entire attention remains on me.

Like he doesn’t want to look away.

Or can’t.

“No.” I’m surprised my tone is level. “Jason and I are practicing.”

“Youʼre practicing with me now.”

“Pass.” I try to push off Asher, but his grip tightens around my waist until itʼs almost painful.

Whenever I used to talk back to Asher, he’d give me looks of suspicion or even surprise. Those have completely disappeared lately. Now, he just watches me with all these dark, heated stares that flip my stomach upside down.

“Iʼll just go,” Jason offers, shooting an undecipherable glance at Asher before he rounds the corner.

“Put me down,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.

Surprisingly, he does set me on my feet, but he doesnʼt remove his hand from around my waist. Heʼs too close, my breasts colliding with his chest…his hard, naked chest that’s glistening with sweat.

My senses fill with his sandalwood and citrus scent, like a warm, sunny day. The place where his hand touches me erupts with heat even though my top serves as a barrier.

My pulse picks up pace the more his attention swallows me whole. Itʼs like he can reach inside me and flip a switch to bring me back to life.

Refusing to get sucked into his orbit, I glare full on. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He motions at the trampoline. “You said you want to practice. Iʼll catch you.”

“I was doing that just fine with Jason.”

His grip tightens until I wince and his voice comes low. “Is this a new game?”

“Whatʼs the game in practicing with Jason?”

“The fact that you never hung out with him before, or that you never called him a friend.”

“Well, I do now.”

“What changed?”

“Me. I changed, Ash. Iʼm not the same Reina you used to know.”

“Asher.” His jaw ticks as if he’s searching for patience. “The name is Asher.”

“That’s one more thing that’s changed. I like Ash better.”

He pauses for a second too long. I made him speechless, and my insides dance at the thought. It’s so rare to make Asher Carson speechless.

His free hand trails up to my cheek and winds around my throat, but he’s not squeezing. He’s merely running his fingers along my skin, as if re-learning it.

Heat invades me and goosebumps form on the skin he touches.

“You’ve changed,” he says slowly.

Finally.

“You’re even blushing.”

“Iʼm not,” I yell, but even I can feel the pits of fire on my cheeks.

He runs the pad of his calloused thumb over my cheek as if to prove a point, to lure me into his trap like a predator would do to its prey.

“Is that so, Reina?”

“Stop it,” I hiss, looking around. Weʼre in view of the staff’s entrance. Anyone could come out and see us.

“I wonder what I’ll find if I check.”

“Check what?” I breathe.

“If I reach under those little shorts, pull your panties to the side, and thrust two fingers into your pussy, what will I find?”

It’s as if someone doused me with fuel, igniting a fire.

If I was blushing before then his dirty words have me all crimson now. The bottom of my stomach contracts with wicked anticipation.

Logically, I know I need to stop him, but I can’t fight the need to know more, to dig more.

Just more.

“So? What will I find, Reina?”

The whisper of my name out of his mouth isn’t just a name. It’s a promise. A damnation. A sinister journey that pulls me closer, refusing to let me go.

Who knew my damn name could have this effect?

His hand slides from my waist to the space where my shorts meet my thighs. I suck in a breath through my teeth at the feel of his fingers disappearing under the fabric.

His thumb and forefinger grip my chin as he murmurs, “Will I find you wet?”

I bite my lower lip to stop the voice that’s trying to escape.

And yes, I’m totally wet. My thighs have been slick with arousal since the moment he caught me against his half-naked body.

“I guess I have to find out on my own.” His hand stops between my thighs. I might have parted them, hoping for more friction or something.

Anything.

“I’m not stupid enough to think you’ve been saving yourself for me, but I want to know.” His voice drops to a dangerous range that feeds the goosebumps on my arms.

I throw him a curious glance as I fight the symphony of feelings going through me. That’s all I can do when I’m with him.

Feel.

And sometimes, like right now, it’s too much. Everything is crashing down on me from every side.

“Who did you give it up to?” The lust is still there, but something a lot more frightening lurks underneath.

“W-what?”

“Your virginity, prom queen. Who took it?”

Prom queen.

It’s the first time he’s called me that. It’s usually monster this or monster that.

I focus back on his question. Isn’t he my fiancé since I was ten or something? He should have been my first, no?

I watch him closely, his broad shoulders and sculpted face, the way his body angles toward mine both in menace and in something else.

If I had this man, I wouldn’t think about cheating on him.

But then again, Old Reina and I don’t think the same. Maybe she wasn’t as hung up on Asher as I am. In that case, we totally need to talk so she can give me pointers on how to pull myself out of his spell.

“Was it Jason?” he continues in that cool, threatening tone. “Someone on the team? Or wait…” He looks me up and down. “Did you pull a ‘fuck you’ card and give it to Owen or Sebastian? Maybe both at the same time?”

I pull my fist back and slam it into his chest. It’s hard enough that he stumbles backward, putting much-needed space between us.

Pressure builds behind my eyes, but I refuse to let him see that.

I refuse to let him see how much he affects me.

“If you want to think of me as a slut, go ahead, but don’t you dare imply I’d put myself down just to get back at you. Newsflash, Ash: you don’t deserve any of my actions to be dedicated to you.” I flip my hair, having learned from Naomi how much that fills me with confidence. “And you’re such an asshole for thinking so little of your friends. You don’t deserve Owen and Sebastian.”

I turn to leave, but a strong hand clasps around my wrist and pulls me back. I end up flush against his hard, naked chest as his eyes search mine.

There’s something in them that’s never been there before. It’s like he’s really searching for something—or someone.

His perfect brows draw together over stormy eyes that dissect my soul with each passing second.

“Who the fuck are you?” he murmurs, still watching me like a hawk.

I place a hand over his chest, wanting—no, needing him to understand.