“You are.” His hand comes down on my knee. My legs part a few inches, and a flash of desire lights in the pit of my stomach. “Do you always wear these?” He slips two fingers into the top of my socks that come up almost to my knees. I suck in a breath as he strokes back and forth. I want to ask what the hell he’s doing, but that might mean he stops. Don’t I want him to stop? Obviously not, since my thighs slip open another few inches, making my skirt ride up even more.

“The school is cold.”

“I don’t like you wearing them. You won’t wear them anymore.” He pulls his hand back.

“Who do you think you are?” I hiss. I can’t even believe the nerve of this guy. Yesterday he was talking smack about me and my mom, and now for some reason, he thinks he can tell me what I should and shouldn’t be wearing?

“I’m bossy, remember?”

“You’re a jerk is what you are.” I need to make sure I continue to remind myself of that.

“I’ve been told.” He grips the steering wheel with both hands. I lick my lips, noticing how big his hands really are. All of him really. It dawns on me that we’re all alone. I close my legs, needing some kind of pressure. There is something wrong with my body.

“Are you always this handsy?”

“No.”

“Are you trying to intimidate me? Is that your plan?”

“What would intimidating you do for me?”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re doing. What I do know is you don’t like my mom nor me. And if you think you can bully my mom in to leaving, you have another thing coming. You might be a jerk and can’t see it, but they’re happy. I’ve never seen my mom this happy before, and I’ll be damned if you ruin that!” I shout the last part. I reach up and touch my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever shouted at anyone in my life.

Asher pulls the SUV over off the side of the road, throwing it into park.

“What are you doing?”

“Honestly, I’m right there with you. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.” He unclicks his seat belt. “I’ll leave them be.” He turns to face me. “For a price.”

“That’s right, because everything is about money.” I roll my eyes.

“What I want is far from being about money.” My hands fist the end of my skirt. Something is shifting around us. “For the first time, I think there is a girl that can’t be bought with money.”

“What price?” Why do my words come out all breathy? And why did I even ask that?