Page 47 of Ruthless Heir

We sit in one of the booths at the back and order burgers, super-size fries and giant milkshakes.

When the food arrives it looks so delicious we both dive in. I’m not starving by any means but it’s the kind of food that makes you grow an extra stomach to fit it all in and still leave room for dessert.

I’m halfway through the meal when I glance at Asher and find him watching me.

“What? The food is great here.” I chuckle.

“I know. I was just thinking.”

“About the talk we need to have?”

“Yes.”

At least I’ve had enough food so that if we argue and I need to walk out, I won’t feel bad leaving a whole meal behind.

"I don't think you're an idiot," he says as if we’re continuing a conversation, but I’m following. We’re back to the other night at dinner.

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t, but I also don't like Jack." His voice drops when he says Jack’s name.

I roll my eyes at him. "We're not going to argue again, are we?"

“No.”

I sit straighter and stare back at him, trying for the millionth time to figure him out. “Are you sure? Because this is how it always starts. At first, you seem nice then you turn into a raging asshole.”

“I promise.” He holds up his hand and waves it back and forth like a peaceful white flag. “No arguments.”

That’s one hell of a thing to promise given the fact that arguing is all we’ve done, but I’ll play. “Why do we keep arguing, Asher? I seem to piss you off no matter what I do, even when I do nothing."

“We argue because you don't like me being protective over you." he gives me a pensive stare.

“That’s not protective. You’re acting crazy. You can’t tell me what to do or stop me from doing shit. Especially when I’m not doing anything wrong. You also can’t stop me from seeing whoever I want to see.” He doesn’t want me, so I can’t allow him to ruin my life even if I’m not interested in Jack.

Asher’s jaw clenches, marring his pristine attempt to look calm and reasonable. Those piercing eyes of his bore into me and I know he wants to be as forthright as he was the other day. He’s holding back, though.

“Let’s call a truce,” he suggests. “I’ll tone it down if you agree to stay with me.”

“Are you afraid Josh will be mad at you if I leave?” I fold my arms under my breasts and his gaze flicks down to my cleavage for a few heartbeats, making my stomach squeeze.

For a fleeting moment his eyes swell with what seems like desire. The kind of desirous look I’m used to from men. But the look disappears seconds later, leaving me wondering if I imagined it.

Did I?

I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. All I do is torture myself when I think like that.

Asher’s face resumes that mask of confidence so I push the thought out of my mind, promising myself that I’ll stop trying to read between the lines.

“If you actually believe that scares me then you don’t know me as well as you think.” He sets his shoulders back and levels me a hard stare.

“Okay, so if you’re not worried about Josh then why do you want me to stay?”

He holds my gaze and his eyes become more open, less guarded, more vulnerable. “Maybe I just want to take care of you for as long as you need me to.”

As the words fall from his lips, warmth blooms deep inside me, spreading through my chest like a slow, gentle wave.

Asher’s gaze becomes steady and sincere and it feels like he's staring right into my soul.

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