ASHER
The moment I push open the door to my office, my gaze sweeps across the room automatically, trained by years of instinct and caution, and then it lands on him.
Josh is sitting on the other side of my desk, awaiting my arrival.
"You've got some nerve." I lash out. "What are you doing in my office?"
My voice is sharp and unwelcoming, pretty much exactly how I intend it. Typically, he doesn't flinch but something about him feels strange. Josh Randall is many things; arrogant, calculated, annoying, I could go on. But he's never been so quiet like this before me, never looked or felt so small in my presence.
His shoulders are slouched, his usual cocky posture is nowhere to be found. Even the way he looks at me lacks its usual bite. There's no challenge in his eyes, no smugness. It just looks dull and tired. Yet, it irritates me more than it should.
"Relax, I'm not here to pick a fight with you."
