Thankfully Asher was not in my room when I cracked open the door and peeked out. I rushed to get dressed, not bothering with makeup or doing more than running a brush through my wet hair.

I realized my mistake when I walked into the living room and saw Asher standing in my kitchen still in his dress pants and white button-up shirt from last night, looking like his normal handsome self but more so because his clothes were wrinkled and his hair was messy—which looked a lot like how I envisioned his sex hair. I should’ve taken my time getting ready. I should’ve come up dressed to the nines, armor securely in place. Instead, I looked like a bum, and he looked hot.

Asher took me in from top to toe and I felt the path his eyes took, up and down twice before his gaze settled on mine.

Ugh.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready?”

“We’re going out to breakfast.”

“What?”

“We are going out to breakfast,” he repeated slowly.

“Why are we going out to breakfast?”

“Because you don’t have any food and I’m hungry.”

“I have plenty of food.”

And I did. I’d gone grocery shopping two days ago.

“Okay, I’ll amend you don’t have anything but yogurt, egg whites, fruit, and some grain shit that looks like cereal, but the bag declares it granola with flaxseed. Oh, and turkey bacon which should be banned or called something else. Poultry and swine are not the same. Bacon is pig. Turkey bacon is an abomination.”

Asher stepped into the living giving me a full-length view of his body. I wasn’t sure what made me do it; I’d slowly perused his body plenty of times. He’d now lain on top of me twice, which as far as I was concerned, pretty much made me an Asher expert, even if when I’d started my study, I thought his name was Adam.

But bottom line, he was perfect.

“Are you serious?”

“About which part?”

“All of it.”

“Yes. We’re going to breakfast because your fridge is stocked with healthy crap and turkey bacon.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“How?”

“I’m driving.” Again he was talking slowly like I was extra special and the slower he spoke the easier it would be for me to understand.

“No, you jerk. How is it you look like you do and call yogurt, fruit, and granola healthy crap?”

His smile was smug when he asked, “Look like I do?”

“Don’t fish for compliments. You know what you look like.”

Asher’s smile got bigger which felt like a slap in the face, but I’d be damned if I’d let him see the sting.

“Are we going to breakfast or what?” I snapped.

“Waitin’ on you.”

“I’m ready.”

His gaze dropped to my feet.

My bare feet.

Damn.

Wordlessly I turned and tried my best not to stomp. Unfortunately, I think the effort was for naught. I confirmed this when I heard his laughter ring out. Thankfully I was out of his sight when my step faltered and my hand went to my chest to rub away the burn.