Page 85 of Puck Me Back to Life

I stare straight ahead. “Yeah.”

His arms tighten slightly.

Not enough to stop me.

Just enough to make a point.

“I need to head home.”

A grunt rumbles against my shoulder. Pure disapproval.

I don't know why that makes me want to laugh. Ash's mouth brushes my neck. Soft. Brief. Just enough to send heat crawling beneath my skin.

Then he lets me go.

I turn around. Ash looks unfairly good.

Barefoot. Black sweatpants. Hair loose around his shoulders. Coffee mug in one hand. Like some kind of giant domestic cryptid.

I take the coffee from his hand and sip it. “This is good.”

“You love stealing my shit, huh?” He smirks, taking the coffee back. “You need a ride?”

I shake my head. “I'll call a taxi.”

His eyebrows pull together. His mouth flattens. Annoyed.

For a second I think he's going to argue. Tell me taxis are stupid. Instead, he takes a slow drink of coffee.

“Fine.” The word sounds personally offended.

I grin.

Ash narrows his eyes. “Don't start.”

“You're pouting.”

“I am not.”

“It's cute.”

“I'm thirty years old, I'm not cute.” The glare he gives me should probably be frightening.

It isn't.

Ash points toward the door. “Get out.”

“Make me.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Silence.

Ash blinks.

I blink.

Then realization hits, and my face immediately heats.

Ash's smile appears slowly. Dangerously. “Oh?”