Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“It’s for my boyfriend,” Daniel clarified. “Ash, what kind of beer do you want?”
Asher was momentarily distracted by Daniel’s words. It was the first time he’d been referred to as someone’s boyfriend, and while he didn’t mind putting a title on what he was to Daniel, that word didn’t feel like the right fit.
“But what do you want to drink?” the host asked Daniel.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Asher shouted, startling the host. “His water glass is full and there’s a soda in front of him. He’s fine and I’ll take an amber. Thanks for asking.” He was pretty sure the sarcasm behind that last comment was clear.
“Oh, uh, right.” The irritating man finally managed to pry his gaze away from Daniel. “Enjoy your meal.” He scurried away and Asher rolled his shoulders, trying to relax.
Daniel turned sideways in his chair, put his hands on Asher’s shoulders, and started massaging him. “Bad day?” he asked quietly.
Asher didn’t have a chance to answer before Oliver jumped in. “Damn, Asher,” he chided. “No need to scare the guy. He was just being polite. Now somebody’s going to spit in our food.”
Shirley laughed. “Polite? Ollie, that man clearly wanted to get into Danny’s pants.” She looked at Daniel and grinned. “Am I good or what? I told you that outfit was hot!”
Daniel blushed and squirmed awkwardly in his chair. There was no doubt that he looked sexy as all get-out in his new clothes. Any reflective surface would have made that obvious. So why did he seem surprised—or was it uncomfortable?—hearing it? Was it that he had some ulterior motive with this new look and didn’t want Asher to know about it?
A waitress came to the table with Asher’s beer in one hand and a tasty-looking antipasto plate in the other. “Courtesy of the chef,” she said, setting the plate down.
“Oh, that’s so nice.” Daniel smiled widely and the waitress gasped, flushed, and widened her eyes. Daniel dipped his head and looked down at the table. “Please thank Marc for us,” he said quietly.
Right. Marc the mystery neighbor was a chef at this restaurant. Maybe that was the issue. Daniel was trying to impress Marc. He did spend quite a bit of time with the man. Asher’s mood soured further. Not that anybody seemed to notice.
The waitress left, after staring at Daniel and honest-to-goodness giggling. Oliver ate his food like it was his last meal, commenting about how delicious each and every item on his plate tasted. Shirley chatted with Daniel, laughing about various anecdotes from their shopping excursion, and because Asher hadn’t been with them, he couldn’t participate in the discussion. Not that they cared.
And as if all those things didn’t add up to the most irritating dinner of all time, Asher was sure every member of the restaurant’s wait staff was making a point to stop by their table to flirt with Daniel. Their bread plate was overflowing. Not a single water glass had managed to remain empty for any longer than the time it took to travel from mouth to table. And if one more person offered Daniel ground pepper, Asher was going to take the peppermill and shove it up that person’s ass. Good service was one thing, but this was ridiculous.
“Ash,” Daniel said, the pitch of his tone letting Asher know it wasn’t the first time he’d spoken.
“What?” Asher snapped. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Why was he angry at Daniel? He opened his eyes and looked at Daniel. Because he was dressed like a walking billboard for porn, that was why.
“I need to use the bathroom and I’m kind of, uh”—he looked between Asher’s chair and his and raised an eyebrow—“pinned in here.”
Sure enough, Asher had moved his seat so close to Daniel’s that he was only a couple of inches away. And with the wall on the other side, there was no way for him to get up unless Asher moved.
“Oh, sure,” Asher said as he slid back, leaving room for Daniel to get up.
He shimmied between Asher and the table, giving Asher a view of his ass in his new jeans. Usually, Daniel wore his pants so loose that they barley stayed on, let alone gave an indication of what he was packing beneath. But in those tight jeans…. Asher groaned.
Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How could a man with no body fat have a bubble but?
Asher kept his gaze glued to Daniel’s backside as he walked away. He noticed that he wasn’t alone. It seemed like all the people at the tables Daniel passed turned their heads and stared at him.
“What’s your damage, Asher?” Oliver asked. Apparently there was nothing left to eat within reach because Asher was certain that Oliver hadn’t taken a second to talk, let alone breathe, since food had been placed in front of him.