The night air was sharp against my skin as Asher stormed out of the party with me still slung over his shoulder. I didn’t stop fighting, fists slamming into his back, legs kicking, but it was useless.
“Asher, you bastard, put me the f**k down!”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t even pause.
His grip on me was firm, unyielding, like he was barely holding himself together. The tension rolling off him was a living thing, crawling under my skin, feeding the fire in my chest.
By the time he threw open his car door and shoved me inside, I was ready to rip his throat out.
I barely had a second to sit up before he was there, towering over me, slamming the door shut behind him.
The air in the car turned thick.
His hands braced against the roof, caging me in. His scent—smoke, pine, something darker—wra
