Not For Love

11. Midnight Snack Trips

Finally done with the killing silence, a groan bursts out of me and I turn to Asher. "Why aren't you asking me anything?"

   "Should I be asking you anything?" he counter questions.

   I open my mouth to answer but decide otherwise and close it. I avert my gaze when he frowns questioningly. "No," I finally reply. Why would he care?

   The rest of the ride is spent in silence as we finally reach the house. I get out and head straight upstairs. Asher follows after me but in a slower pace.

   Closing the door to the dresser, I slip out of the green satin, put on more comfortable clothes and come back into the room when Asher walks in and silently goes in the dresser next. I don't bother with him and collapse on the bed, heaving a sigh. Sleep seems foreign, even though it's almost midnight.

   I lie in the warm bed, neither sleeping nor awake—a drifting, restless nap filled with continuous short nightmares.

   "Isn't it time I take back my bed?" I hear a voice.

   I raise my head to find Asher leaning against the door frame. Only in a pair of black shorts. His hair glistening with droplets. Looking at him now I realize I married a man with a flawless sculpture for a body. I almost thank mom for the first time. But am too busy as I resist the urge to goggle at his perfect abs. I end up staring at them for too long to back away anyways.

   Asher narrows his gaze, an amused tint to it. "Are you checking me out?"

   "Can I not?" I ask shamelessly, elevating my brows in question.

   He shrugs, proud as always. "I wouldn't blame you," he says and gets in the bed. I immediately jolt and sit up. A glare settles on my face. Asher chuckles at it and states, "It's my bed."

   "First one gets the bed," I remind.

   "No."

   "Come on! You seemed to like the couch for a week, what happened now?"

   Sudden devilment fills his eyes that makes me lean backwards when he sits up. "I never said you need to sleep on the couch."

   Eyes wide, I gasp in realization and raise my hands, ready to karate him to death if he tries anything. "Keep your perverted paws off me."

   He raises an eyebrow, clearly even more amused. "I meant the floor. What were you thinking?"

   I purse my lips. "Nothing."

   A devious smile tugs his lips and he chuckles—yet again. After a few seconds of my scowl not showing even a hint of wavering, I sigh. "Fine! I'll sleep on couch. It's a hundred times better than sleeping here."

   "You mean the floor," Asher corrects.

   I turn to glower at him one last time and he bursts out laughing. Stomping my way to the couch, I plop on it with a huff. "I really want to kill him," I mumble.

   I close my eyes as Asher keeps talking—taunting—but soon stops when I don't reply. I hear his soft chuckle and then the flick of a switch. The last remaining light in the room flickers to darkness. Silence befalls the room and I suddenly hope I had kept talking. I wait for sleep to come and bless my poor brain, who's had to deal with the jerk all day and wither away to sleep before I know it.

   I only realize I had indeed fallen asleep when I jolt. Another loud gurgle screams from my stomach and I stand up, suddenly reminded of how thanks to someone I totally lost my appetite at the dinner. And then realize it seems to be back now.