HAZEL
Dinner is a success. Asher waits until we’ve wiped our plates clean before he asks.
“What condition?”
“What?” I’m not paying much attention to him, too busy studying the posters on the wall.
“You said you’ll only cook for me on one condition.” He steps up behind me, his arms snaking around my waist.
“You’re still holding on to that?” I grip his wrists and tries to push him away. He hardly bulges.
“Go on. Tell me. I’ve been dying to know. What is it that you want freckles?”
“What I want. I want you to stick to the rules of the contract.”
“Really?” He laughs but his arms slacken slightly around me. “Am I really that repulsive? Do you detest my touch so much?”
He sounds, dare I say hurt? No. Annoyed is the better word.
I’ve never seen Asher annoyed before. It takes me by
