Page 14 of Nothing to Fear
Spending time with Asher has clearly brought buried feelings for him to the surface, something I need to get control over before I do something fucking stupid and fuck everything up. I force myself to think about the masked stranger instead of Asher, focusing on the dark black holes where his eyes were supposed to be, his gloved, skeleton green hands sliding over my body. My dick rises to attention, and I internally groan, forgetting where I was.
I take a seat across from him, dropping my bag to the floor and pulling out my laptop. Asher still hasn’t acknowledged my presence, and I inwardly cringe, wondering if I’ve done something to fuck up again. It seemed like things were okay between us at Fright Night while we talked outside of Grimsley Hall, but did I see what I wanted to? Should I have reached out this week? Fuck.
“Hey?” I finally say, breaking the silence stretching uncomfortably in the room, my hand reaching out to gently touch his knuckles. Asher looks up quickly from his book, his eyes a bit wide, looking at me like he truly has no idea where I came from.
His eyes sear into my face as I stare down at where our hands meet. Just like last time, his touch is like a bolt of lightning shooting through my veins at the point of contact. My heart trips over itself behind my ribs, my breath caught in my lungs. Slowly, I trace my eyes up where my fingers rest against his, meeting the darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. One eyebrow is slightly raised, his bottom lip pressed tightly between his teeth. There’s no missing the confusion written all over his features, but the heat dancing behind his eyes and the sexy way he worries his lip are undeniable.
What would it be like to taste that lip? Would he open for me and accept my tongue? Would he reach for me and give it right back? I cough into my fist, turning my head and pulling my hand back into my lap. What the hell has gotten into me?I don’t want him, I lie to myself.
You’re just desperate for the attention, especially now that you’ve had it.
“Damn, man, you really get lost in those books.”
Asher’s shoulders deflate slightly, his head dropping and shaking slowly as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having.
“How long have you been here, slacker?”
I debate fucking with him, lying to him and freaking him out, but decide against it.
“Just a few minutes. What’re you reading?”
“History.”
“Of?”
“Why weren’t you in class yesterday?”
Shit, how did he know that? I skipped class because I couldn’t get my ass out of bed. Practice the night before killed me, and then Eli dragged me down to his dorm room to play video games.
“We have the same class now, slacker. Professor Thorne has absorbed all of Professor Mortwood’s students for the semester until they find a replacement. Where were you?”
I choose not to answer him and throw out a question of my own.
“What are you studying?”
“I don’t think you’d be interested in knowing, Silas.”
“I just asked, didn’t I? Try me,” I lightly tease with a smile pulling at the corner of my lips, trying to turn the conversation around. Asher looks up at me, leaning back further into his chair and crossing his arms. I focus on his face, even though it’s taking all my willpower not to slowly trace over every inch of him. “So?”
“The history of Corvus College.”
“Okay. Now the real question for the bookworm, for pleasure or school?”
“Yep,” he replies with a light laugh. It’s short and cute, my body warming all over at the sound.
“C’mon, man, give me a little more than that. What does Asher Ambrose read the history of Corvus College for?” I tease again, this time earning me a slight smile. And damn if it isn’t a beautiful smile. Even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, the wayhis light blush lips turn up at the corners is enough to bring me to my knees. He’s so handsome.
“Pleasure. Even though I’m majoring in gothic literature and history, I go a little above and beyond because I find it all wicked fascinating.”
“Everyone needs a little hobby. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Do you have any?”
“Me? Nah. Rugby. If that counts.”
“Definitely counts. But you’re forced to play, even when you don’t feel like it. What do you do that’s just for you?”
I think about his question for a second, turning it over in my head a few times and coming up with nothing. Which doesn’t make me feel great.
