It doesn’t take me long to make the trek up to Maddox’s top-floor apartment, but by the time I do, my nerves are flying all over the place. I shouldn’t be nervous, but let’s face it, there isn’t anything about Maddox Locke that isn’t insanely intimidating.

Could be worse. It could be Asher.

I quickly dismiss the thought. Asher is the one man who makes me insane…with unleashed desire.

And the worst part? He’s Zeke Cooper’s brother—and the uncle to my unborn child.

We’ve become close over the last few months. I try to keep my lust to a simmer when I’m around him, but he’s just so… God, I don’t even know.

He towers over me, probably close to six foot four or so. He isn’t huge like Axel, but there is nothing about him I would call small. No, he is built solid with trim hips and the hottest butt I’ve ever had the pleasure of gawking at.

The part that kills me is that he looks so much like his brother. I know they were close in age, but they could have passed as twins.

Shaking off the thoughts of Asher Cooper, I come to a stop in front of Maddox’s apartment door and give my breathing a chance to calm down.

Just the thought of Asher has my heart rate spiking and my skin feeling flush, which is a testament to how badly I need some attention. I have a feeling that, with my raging hormones, I would start humping his leg if he were around.

Jesus, Chelc, get a freaking grip!

Sighing deeply, I bring my hand up to knock on Maddox’s door. It takes a second and a few more knocks before the door is swung wide and I’m met with the blue-eyed devil of sex appeal himself, Asher Cooper.

Before I can even open my mouth, he’s snarling, “What the hell do you want?”

“Excuse me?” I question, stepping back from the waves of anger that are rolling off of him. My skin starts to tingle, and I just know that I’m missing something here.

Something feels off.

“I said…what the hell do you want?” It takes me a second, but when he moves to come towards me, I’m hit with the unmistakable smell of heavy liquor.

Dammit. Not again.

One thing about Asher is that he’s as nice as can be and genuinely a fun guy to be around…until he’s drowning his grief in a bottle. Then it’s like he doesn’t even see anything but his pain.

“Uh…”

His eyes narrow at my stupid stuttering, and I can tell by his facial expression that, no matter what I say, he’s primed and ready for a fight.

“Not a fucking hard question, Sunshine. What the hell do you want? If it’s anything other than lying on your back and spreading those thighs, then I’m not interested.”

The. Hell?

“Uh…”

“I’ve got plenty of this to go around,” he arrogantly states while waving his hand over his crotch. “All you need to do is say the word. I’m all about my ladies having some meat on their bones.”

I can feel my face heat with embarrassment. Yeah, I’m at that awkward stage in my pregnancy where I look like I’ve just had way too much fun at KFC and then went over to the bakery and asked for one of everything. My mind is telling me that he doesn’t mean it, but deep down, it hurts.

“How dare you!” I squeak—yes, squeak.

“What? There isn’t anything to be ashamed of. Your tits though… Damn, now those make up for the extra weight.”

It’s like my hand just moves without my permission. One second, I’m ready to go hide in a dark hole, and the next, I’m pissed to the brim. When my hand cracks across his cheek, sending his head to the side and shocking us both, I want to take it back, but in the end, I square my shoulders and wait for him to tear me down again.

When his eyes come back to mine, the shock of my slap taking some of his drunken buzz away, he just looks at me. I can see each of my fingers shining like neon across his tan skin, causing a wave of distress to hit me.

“Did you just slap me?” he asks, clearly confused now that he isn’t stuck on drunken-douche mode.

“You have got issues, Asher. Serious issues. I have no clue what has you jumping back into the bottle, but I deserve a lot more than your crap.” My chest is rising as rapidly as my temper, and all I want to do is take him by the neck and shake the shit out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“How is it possible for you to forget all that verbal vomit that you just spewed? Well, don’t you worry about it, Ash. When you sober up, maybe then you can come and let the chubby chick know that you’re sorry. All I care about right now is talking to Maddox and finding the spare to my apartment so I can go to bed. I’m tired, and the last thing I want to do is deal with a drunk you.”