Page 75 of Fractured Fear

Focus. It’s go time soon.

Right. Go time. I can’t get caught up in my attraction for Asher, and I can’t even begin to think about how Zane and Rio will react. My self-loathing overwhelms me every time I imagine their devastation.

We’ve grown close. They want to start something with me, but I’m running just as the seeds are being planted. I’ll let myself mourn the relationship we could’ve had when I get to the west coast.

Our coffee is taking longer than usual, but I’m content to wait. I want to savor my last moments in The Mudhouse.

My nostrils fill with the rich smell of coffee beans followed by a sickly-sweet vanilla aroma as a blonde bombshell walks by. She looks like she just got off the runway with her perfectly styled hair, extra plump lips, and full face of makeup. She’s wearing an overly tight skirt and a Marc Jacobs tote bag hangs from her arm while she types away on her phone.

As a girl’s girl, I give props to her power outfit, but then her gaze wanders a little too far this way and lands on my bodyguard. I know the juxtaposition between Asher and me is immense. He looks ready to fight crime with his FBI badge on his belt with his dress shirt and slacks sitting perfectly on his fit frame. Meanwhile, I’m ready for a soup kitchen.

If Asher notices her, he doesn’t give any indication. This probably happens to him often. Hot women in coffee shops must walk right up and give him their number all the time. But we’re standing so close our shoulders are brushing with each breath. Surely she wouldn’t…

As the woman begins to sidle up to Asher’s side, I clear my throat drawing his attention. Then I do what I do best. I babbleand make shit up as I go. “I have a lot of traveling back and forth between the gallery and studio today. I have to make sure some sales go out for delivery and then there’s a shipment of clay coming in today. Would you mind helping me unload that? Then there’s counting all the new inventory. Hayes usually has that under control, but I feel bad, it’s a lot to handle. The day camp is coming by. Oh, and I need to?—”

He sighs and interjects, “I get it. Lots of moving around, but I can guarantee you, Princess, I’ll be right there with you.”

As he speaks I lean forward subtly, checking to see if the bombshell got the hint. I let out a sigh of relief as I see her grab her coffee and leave.

Then it’s Asher’s turn to clear his throat. Embarrassed that he may have caught on to my scheme, I fumble to reply, “Oh. Um. It’s no trouble. Really. You don’t have to go with meeverywhereeverywhere.” I do my best to pacify him.

His ego might still be bruised from my excursion to the coffee shop yesterday, but geez. Get over it.

“Yes, I do.”

Surely he doesn’t mean that.

An hour later after I’ve downed my coffee and I’m about to pee my pants, it’s time to test the theory.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Asher asks as I walk away from the worktable.

I drop my shoulders in frustration. “To the bathroom.”

“Not without me,” he simply states as he stands from his perch on a stool.

“You’ve got to be joking.” There’s no way. He’s bluffing.

“Not even a little bit, Princess.”

I narrow my eyes at him and walk to the back of the studio ignoring the questioning glance from Hayes. Turning to shut the door, I attempt to slam it in Asher’s face but he holds it open with his hand. I push back repeatedly and feel like a youngerchild fighting with their older sibling as my feet slide across the floor while trying to get a good grip.

With the next two shoves I grunt out, “Get. Out.” I stop and huff a big breath. “Move you overgrown man-child!”

He just stands there unphased, not even bracing his legs. He’s just nonchalantly leaning on the door as if it’s any other normal day. He’s not even breathing hard, meanwhile I’m panting from all the exertion with a drop of sweat trickling down my back.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Are you done throwing your fit?” he asks, annoyed.

“You’re not coming in here. One, it’s a small single bathroom. There’s not enough room for you and me. And two, I have to pee.”

Why do I even have to explain this to him? You don’t pee in front of the guy you pictured while masturbating in the shower. I know he heard me. He knows I know he heard me. We both know I did what I did! There’s no way I can pee in front of him.

Instead of answering me, Asher pushes me backward until my calves hit the toilet seat. Then he steps in further and the door shuts behind him with a snick.

“Your throne, Princess. Have a seat.” He flourishes his hand and does a slight bend in a mock bow.

Blood rushes to my cheeks and I fold my arms. I’m trapped with nowhere to go, but the dread of what could happen next, never comes. I can’t take this. This familiarity my body and subconscious mind have with him. This can’t be the life I leave behind.

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