Chapter 2
Roxanne
“You scared me.” I press the phone tighter against my ear as I move toward the far corner of Asher’s office, lowering my voice instinctively.
“Sorry,” Felix mutters. “I forgot you said you were working late.”
My shoulders loosen slightly at the sound of his voice.
It’s still the same irritated and sulky voice I’ve gotten used to, but it’s at least very much alive. There’s nothing in his tone to show that he’s distressed.
So that brings me to the most important question: why did he call?
“You called twice.”
“Because you ignored me the first time.”
We’ll need to have a talk about his snarky tone one day, and I won’t care if he’s my beloved brother and only family.
“I was in a meeting.”
Behind me, papers shuffle sharply. I frown, knowing that it’s absolutely intentional. However, it also grounds me deeper in the situation I’m in.
Even without looking at Asher, I can feel his attention crawling over my skin. The awareness is immediate as heat courses through my body.
I turn slightly toward the windows, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze.
But it’s impossible and annoying. It shouldn’t be so hard to ignore the man. There’s the fact that he’s my boss and the irritating truth that he’s also Tristan’s brother.
That complicates things even without the humiliating memory from seven years ago. Also, Asher is no different from Tristan, who cheated on me. Actually, he’s worse.
He’s a man who changes women on a regular basis like underwear. That alone snaps me out of my madness as I refocus my attention on my conversation with Felix.
“You ate dinner?” I ask Felix quietly.
He lets out a dramatic sigh. “Yes.”
“What did you eat?”
“Food.”
I grit my teeth.
That teenage sass of his. Good lord! I don’t remember being as mouthy or sassy as he is when I was a teenager. But I bet Mom would disagree with me if she were still alive and point out that he’s exactly like me.
“Felix.”
“Okay, okay. I had pasta with Mrs. Hernandez.”
Relief settles inside me. I ignore the fact that he once again didn’t eat the dinner I left him in favor of Mrs. Hernandez’s food. I know I’d do the same. Just as I know Felix prefers staying over with our sweet elderly neighbor until I get back from work because of her delicious food.
“Good,” I mutter.
“You coming home soon?”
My grip tightens on the phone. “I’m trying.”
Another paper flips behind me, and it’s louder this time. I fight back the need to glare at him, knowing it’ll only drag me deeper into a version of hell I want to avoid.
“I’ll wait up,” Felix says.
“No, you won’t. You have school tomorrow.”
“Roxy—”
“Bed,” I warn gently.
He grumbles something under his breath before hanging up. I stare at the dark screen for a second longer, collecting myself. Then I make the mistake of turning around.
Asher’s grey eyes are on me. My insides jumble up as I take in the image of him. His dark shirt is loosened just enough to expose his toned and broad chest. My throat goes dry as I pull my eyes away from his body and focus on his angry face.
His mouth is set in that familiar thin line, the one that leaves me constantly second-guessing every move I make despite pretending it doesn’t affect me.
Even sitting across the room, he overwhelms every inch of space around him. He does it with so much ease that it annoys me.
He has always known how to make me effortlessly center my focus on him.
It’s been this way since college. One look from Asher Sterling and my body forgets every intelligent thought I’ve ever had. Which is pathetic considering the man clearly thinks I’m human garbage.
I walk back toward the conference table carefully, forcing composure into every step.
“You’re glaring again,” I note.
“Who’s Felix?”
Straight to the point. Of course.
I slide back into my seat. “Someone important to me.”
His expression darkens instantly. I slide a hand under my chin, wondering why he seems even angrier. He never used to care when Felix called me in the past.
Does he want me to ignore my brother’s calls now?
“You were seeing him while dating Tristan.”
I blink.
It takes a while for his words to register fully in my mind. Asher doesn’t know I have a brother. Tristan must have never told him. And that’s why he now thinks Felix is a man I’m dating.
The laughter slips out of me before I can stop it.
“Oh, my God.” I lean back slightly. “Are you jealous?”
“I don’t get jealous.”
His reaction to my silly joke is immediate and sharp. This interests me. I slide one leg across the other, fixating my gaze on him.
“No?” My mouth curves. “You sound jealous.”
Oh no! Why do I have that tone?
I sound desperate. Like, I actually want him to be jealous. Something is clearly wrong with me. I shouldn’t enjoy provoking him this much. But Asher has spent the last year looking at me like I’m beneath him.
Like I’m nothing but a manipulative and cheap woman who spreads her legs for expensive gifts and powerful men.
This takes me back to seven years ago, the time I had stars in my eyes for him and thought he was the epitome of the perfect man. Until I approached him and he treated me like I was the worst vermin on earth.
All my life, I grew up knowing that people would always look at my appearance first and assume I have nothing else going for me but beauty.
I’d gotten used to that because it never harmed me. Most people were usually nice to me, nicer than they should be. The unfortunate part is that they never took me seriously, so I always had to try extra hard to prove that I was more than just a pretty face.
However, that night was the first time I ever felt outright disgust from someone I didn’t know. Asher Sterling took one look at me and treated me like the villain from his nightmares. It was odd, and it hurt coming from someone I’d been head over heels for.
That was when I got to know that some men also saw me and immediately assumed I was up to no good and definitely faking every sincere emotion I might say I feel.
That must have broken me more than his rejection. I was barely twenty-one with the dreams of having the best college life. All that was shattered by this same man glaring at me right now.
Correcting Asher’s assumption stopped mattering a long time ago. Now I’ve grown the ability to use it to my advantage.
“Let me guess,” I continue lightly. “You think Felix is another wealthy man funding my lifestyle?”
“You seem to enjoy collecting them.”
That one stings more than it should. However, I refuse to let him see it. I maintain my perfect smile.
“What can I say? Men love spending money on me.”
Something shifts in his expression then. It’s not anger. That I can handle. It’s something darker that makes my tummy curl with fear.
Fear of the unknown. My heartbeat quickens as I try to ease myself out of the situation.
“As entertaining as this conversation is,” I say, reaching for the documents again, “I really would like to go home before midnight.”
“You flirt with every man this way?”
My fingers still as the room grows suddenly hotter. I slowly raise my eyes back at him as I force down the lump in my throat.
“Mr. Sterling?—”
“Or is it just me, Roxanne?”
Roxanne.
The sound of my name on his lips does something deeply embarrassing to my nervous system.
He’s the only one who calls me by my full name, and I never saw the need to change that because he rarely ever uses it. Most times, I’m just Miss. Sinclair.
Which is why whenever he calls me by my first name, Roxanne, instead of Roxy like everyone else, it makes my heart skip.
How did it ever come to this?
And that deep, low voice of his feels utterly dangerous in this office. I wish my body wouldn’t react this way to him, but when has it ever listened to me regarding Asher Sterling?
“I’m not trying to flirt with you; we work together,” I say carefully.
Even as I say those words, I barely believe myself. Somehow, our conversation has drifted into dangerous territories. I’ve always felt the tension between us, but all this time, our animosity for one another has always won.
What changed now?
“And?”
“And you’re my ex-fiancé’s brother.”
His eyes darken. “Yet you still look at me like that.”
Heat rushes to my face immediately because the worst part is he’s right. I do look at him. Way too much for any regular person to handle.
“You’re imagining things.”
“No.” His gaze drags slowly over my body. “I’m not.”
My breath hitches in my throat as my hand trembles ever so slightly.
Heavens know that look of his should be illegal. It feels almost physical the way his eyes move over me. Like he’s touching me without permission.
“You think I don’t notice?” he continues quietly. “The way your breathing changes whenever I get close to you?”
I stand too quickly. “That’s enough.”
But Asher stands too, and suddenly the office feels much smaller than it did thirty seconds ago. My heels click against the floor as I try to move back.
He notices that, too, as his gaze hardens on me.
“You’ve spent a year pretending this thing between us doesn’t exist,” he says, walking toward me slowly. “Meanwhile, you were engaged to my brother while looking at me like you want to be bent over my desk.”
Oh God! I wanted to.
“That’s not true.”
“Liar.”
His voice is softer now, and that makes this worse. I always knew he could tell what I was thinking, the same way I knew he was always checking me out.
And frankly, I’m tired of pretending I’m not curious about him and what he can do to me.
“You don’t get to judge me,” I snap. “Not when you look at me like you want to ruin me every time I walk into a room.”
The craziest part is I can’t tell if he wants to ruin me in a good or bad way, yet my body always welcomes the look with anticipation.
Something flashes in his eyes then. A dangerous look that tells me he’s on the verge of losing control.
We can’t have that. If the most composed man I know loses control, then I don’t stand a chance.
“You have no idea how hard it’s been not to touch you,” he says huskily.
My heartbeat quickens violently as my brain clamors at me to leave before things get worse. However, I don’t move.