Page 72 of Restrictions

Sawyer’s brown eyes roll, but his grin is back. “You let me know if you want some of my heat.”

I feel the fire coming from Ash, and I step away, not wanting to get wrapped up in this testosterone challenge. Sawyer isn’t interested in me. He hit on me once at the party I went to that changed my life, but he was already pretty wasted, and I could have been anyone for him to do that. He’s messing with Asher.Why? I have no idea.

After the party, Sawyer, Baz, and Asher drag me all over our side of town, using Baz’s cuteness to collect more candy than I’ll ever allow him to eat. By the time we end up back at the house, Baz is completely and utterly exhausted.

After I tuck him in, I go downstairs to find Asher closing the front door. “Sawyer already left?”

Asher nods, having already taken off the tin hat but still in the rest of his costume. “Yeah, there’s a party near campus.”

“You didn’t want to go?”

He studies me, walking to where I’m standing and placing his hands on my hips. “I have a date with Dorothy.”

I smile, but his eyes darken, and he clears his throat as he releases me and steps back. “Should we go to my room?”

“Did the word ‘date’ freak you out?”

He huffs, running his fingers through his thick hair. “Don’t give me shit tonight, Viv.”

“Isn’t that what we do?”

He cocks his head to the left, clearly not in the best mood, heading toward the stairs. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“Are you kidding me?” I place my hand on my hip, not running after him but wanting him to stay, to turn around and look at me.

I’m relieved when he does, but then I see the brutal conflict on his face. “No. I’m not. We aren’t fucking dating.”

“Wow.”

“Wow? That’s it?”

I’m sick of the hot and cold. “You know what, Asher, I have a toddler, I don’t need another one.” I turn away from him and start toward the stairs, but that got his attention as he passes me to stand in front of me.

“I’m not a fucking toddler. I think you know by now I’m a man.”

I point down the stairs. “In your bed, yes. Everywhere else, no.” I push past him, and he grabs my wrist. I pull a frustrated breath through my lungs as I look him in the eyes. “What?”

“I never said I wasn’t a dick.”

“No. You didn’t.” I pull out of his loose grip and lean into him, reaching his ear, trying to ignore how good he smells and barely noticing the silver paint on his face and red on his lips. “If you want to be in my bed, you can’t treat me like shit whenever you want.” I nip his lobe with my teeth. “You want to be a broody, angry asshole and take out your frustration and pain on me, do it in the bedroom only.”

My eyes meet his as his hands grip my ass, pulling my body flush to his as he looks deep into my eyes, and I swear they want to tell me whatever it is he’s holding back. The pain and torture I see there threatens to break me.

I know he misses Colt. I know he felt forgotten when he died, and I think part of him feels responsible for his death, but he doesn’t say it.

Not outright.

“You don’t deserve to be punished.”

“We’re all sinners.”

“To me, you’re a saint.”

I remove his right hand from my hip and take it, leading him toward the downstairs.

“You think I’m so pure,...” I toss a took over my shoulder, “corrupt me.”

I swear he actually gulps as I smile and lead him downstairs to his room.

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