Her cheeks blushed, and hell if he knew why he’d asked that question. What he did know was the don’t cross the line rule abdicated his rule book. Now that he’d broken their unspoken proximity barrier, he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“It’d be safer if you stayed here.”

“I’m heading to New York for an audition tomorrow.” Her eyes bounced over his shoulder, and what he wouldn’t do to have her lay those beauties back on him.

“Look at me.”

She bit her bottom glossed lip. “No.”

“Why not?”

Her eyes flashed to him, searing him straight to his groin. “Not everyone listens to you all the time, Mr. Congressman.”

“I don’t care if you listen or not, but I do care if you ignore me.”

“What difference does that make? You’ve been ignoring me for years. Now if you don’t mind, back up.”

They stared, silent. He savored the electric charge that pulled them closer and leaned over. His lips hovered near her earlobe. “I’m tired of pretending.”

Jenny pushed his chest and ducked under his arm. “What?”

The pounding in his chest reverberated into his throat. Two hot marks burned him where she’d pushed her balled fists. The tips of his fingers prickled to touch her cheeks, her hair, her curves.

Asher narrowed his focus on her but leaned against the wall.

She stepped backwards until the back of her legs met the couch, then she dropped onto it.

Molly walked into the room, much calmer and holding a half glass of wine in one hand, an opened bottle and two glasses by their stems in the other. She pivoted a look from Jenny to him and back. “Everything okay?”

“Your brother has lost his mind.” Jenny pulled a blanket over her and burrowed into the couch.

He shook his head. “Actually, I think I just made my mind up.”

***

The living room turned into a sauna, and heat crawled up Jenny’s neck. Her heart pounded into overdrive. She couldn’t swallow past the knot in her throat, couldn’t respond with any witty comeback that would make their banter nothing more than an innocent flirtation. Asher wasn’t acting innocent, and she had no idea what he was doing.

Done pretending and made up his mind? Her mind spun around his words. What?

He was messing with her. He had to be. Nothing else made sense. Flirt and walk away. That was how their at-an-arm’s-distance relationship existed, even if she wanted more. Even if she’d die for him to hold her against the wall like that again.

She shivered at the memory, even while self-doubt and self-preservation had her snuggled onto the couch with a blanket as a protective barrier. If she let him have his way with her, she would be irreparably broken and just another notch in his bedpost.