Page 59 of Fractured Fear

“Whatever you say,” he quips back.

I steady a heavy frown in his direction. I cannot believe this asshole.

“Princess.”

My stubborn side refuses to dignify his adolescence with a response. So instead, I turn on my heel and head back to the breakroom, stomping the entire way.

The gall of that man!

When I turn to slam the door, he’s right there, causing me to jump back and ball my fists at my sides.

“You don’t need to follow me everywhere, Asshole Dawson.” When I say his new name, I spit it out like rotten food. I know I’m throwing a temper tantrum, but I’m way beyond giving a shit. Hell hath no fury.

Asher steps into me. With him this close I can see the outline of his pectoral muscles; wafts of eucalyptus and sandalwood invade my senses. I have an overwhelming impulse to unwind his hair and run my fingers through his silky strands. His lips are a sultry soft pink that is drawing me closer. He’s taller than Rio and Zane, and his height only adds to the Viking persona.

“I think I do, Spencer Gray.” My name on his lips sends a jolt of lust straight to my core. My body once again betraying me.

A huff of air leaves my lungs and causes the tips of my breasts to graze his upper abs. The move was supposed to calm my reactive hormones, instead my breathing increases and a heat rises in my cheeks.

He leans in close, leveling his face with mine, lips drawing closer, but not close enough. I lean in ever so slightly anticipating his mouth on mine, but he halts his movement.

“Get used to me being in your space. You’re stuck with me for the next few days.” Then he pulls away, leaving me feeling hot and cold.

What was I thinking? I’m not a fan of Asher Dawson.

Then why was I desperate for his kiss?

After an hour of Viking Hottie—whichIris had decided on—hovering like a damn helicopter mom, I’m ready to rip my hair out. I should be grateful to Rio and Zane, they asked their overworked friend to protect me even if that friend is an overbearing boulder.

A sexy boulder.

Rocks aren’t sexy, dammit. It doesn't matter, I would lick Asher’s rock hard abs if he asked.

He’s distracting everyone, myself included, and it’s frustrating as hell.

Alma was more than happy to welcome Asher. She said that it was time we had some more eye candy in the studio, as if she doesn’t get enough from Rio and Zane. Even Paul struck up a conversation with the man. I didn’t stick around to listen, butapparently, they made plans to go to a shooting range. I didn’t even know Paul was interested in that kind of thing.

The real kick to the gut was when Asher won over Hayes without even trying. Hayes took one look at Asher’s tattoos and they were instant bffs.

Traitors. All of them.

Don’t get me started on Inner Spencer. I constantly find myself watching him and more than half the time he’s watching me back. I don’t like how that causes flutters in my stomach and heat rushes to my center. He’s annoying and rude.

Noticing he’s occupied with Hayes, as they discuss where Hayes should go for his first tattoo, I discreetly slink out the front door and take in deep breaths of fresh air. I know the guys mean well, but I like my space.

The heavenly scent of rich espresso draws me to The Mudhouse. Deciding caffeine is the perfect cure, I peruse the menu at the coffee shop. I do this every time, even though I know I’m going to get my usual: a venti mocha with extra whip cream and oat milk.

As I order my coffee, I feel guilty for sneaking away and decide to order one for Asher. He doesn’t seem like a fellow chocoholic, so I go with classic black coffee. He can always get creamer or sugar from the break room if he has a secret sweet tooth. Maybe some good old bean juice will put him in a better mood. Plus, you can’t hate the person who brings you coffee, it’s the law.

With a to-go cup in each hand, I stroll back to Clay Creations. When I walk through the door I feel better. I needed that little reset, but that contentment disappears as soon as I spot Asher. To describe him as furious would be an understatement, he looks ready to explode.

Nostrils flaring, he barrels towards me. “Where the fuck did you go?” he barks.

I hold up his cup as if it’s obvious. “Coffee.” I muster half a smile.

He crosses his arms and stands in front of me with a lethal stillness that seems to come to him naturally. “Did you forget you’re not supposed to go anywhere without me?”

Refusing to be intimidated I widen my stance. “I needed to get out of the studio for a second. It’s not like I went far. I was right next door. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

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