Page 54 of Even if It Hurts

“Asher, please?—”

“Wrong name. Who did this?”

“It’s nothing,” I quickly lied and watched his jaw flex as something like disappointment and devastated understanding fell over his dangerously handsome expression.

But just when I thought he was going to call me out on the lie, Asher quietly demanded, “How’d you get the bruise last week?”

Disbelief and confusion flooded me so forcefully that I automatically brushed a hand across my bruised ribs because Iwasn’t even sure how he’d known about those. Hecouldn’thave known.

But something about my involuntary reaction seemed to bring him up short because Asher’s brows drew close, that rage darkening to something truly terrifying as he shifted back just enough to reach for the bottom of my shirt.

And I froze.

Even when his eyes searched mine, silently asking for permission, I just stared at him in horror as excuses gathered on my tongue and got tangled with demands ofhow.

“How many are there?” he asked as he slowly started lifting my shirt, and my head began shaking.

Because even though Asher couldn’t have known, he somehow did, but he didn’t understand. “You don’t understand,” I said, nearly choking over the words as I reached for his trembling wrist to stop him.

Not that it mattered. He’d already stopped and was staring at the fading bruise on my ribs.

“You don’t understand,” I repeated, and his eyes snapped to mine. “It was an accident.”

A sneer of a laugh ripped from him. “Lainey, don’t?—”

“Itwas,” I nearly cried. “Really, I know how that sounds, but that’s all it was. H-he grabbed my hand to stop me from leaving, and I hit the corner of a table when I sank back into the booth. That’sall. He didn’t mean to do this. He wouldn’t have.”

“You sure about that?” he challenged, his words an intriguing battle of wrath and protectiveness.

I knew how bad it sounded. I knew how much worse it looked. But I also knew Jackson. Unfortunately, from the way it looked like Asher was about to set fire to the world, I was only making it worse by trying to explain.

But all thoughts of Jackson and defending him fled my mind when Asher cradled my neck in one of his hands as if I wassomething to be cherished when every part of him was so set on destruction.

“You deserve better than him. You deserve better thanthis.”

As I stood there, trapped in his midnight eyes, I wondered if he could hear just how fiercely my heart was pounding. I wondered if I imagined the way he swayed closer as my head and my heart got all tangled up over this paradox of a man.

Chills swept across my body and forced a shuddering breath from my lungs when his thumb brushed over my sensitive jaw, and then he was gone. Stealing through the apartment, silent and vengeful as ever, leaving me standing in the wake of all that was Asher Briggs.

Despite hoping to avoid his observant eyes just minutes before and knowing the distance between us was necessary, I would’ve given anything to have him in front of me again, holding me the way he had been.

What was I saying? I would’ve given anything for our lives to be different so there wouldn’t be a need for the distance between us.

An excited shriek had my attention snapping to the side and, despite the horrible start to the morning, a smile tugged at my mouth. Then again, that cheesy grin and those big, dark eyes could have all worries and pains fading away.

“You,” I began in a soft, teasing tone as I made my way to where Kaia was rocking back and forth as if she might push off from her crawling position. “Goodness, I missed you.” Scooping her into my arms, I asked, “How about breakfast?”

At Kaia’s nonsensical, babbled response, I nodded and headed for the kitchen.

“Thought you might say that.”

Once she was in the highchair and jabbering happily to herself and me, I turned to start on her breakfast only to stop when I saw the new addition to the kitchen. An addition thatwas glaringly obvious because it was the only thing on Asher’s spotless counters, other than the fruit bowl.

My heart beat harder and harder with each step I took toward the stunning espresso machine in the far corner. Reaching out, I hesitantly lifted the top of the note that was taped to the front. And then it was all I could do to keep my traitorous heart in my chest when I saw the neat, masculine writing, clearly intended for me.

Check the pantry.

Use my kitchen. Eat my food.

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