Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
He smiles. “You’ve seen my birthday suit, Banks. No bow tie.” With a wink, he heads off to the shower.
I use the time to get dressed. To tie my own bow tie. And to plan the speech I’m about to give him. Listen, Asher. My life is a little crazy right now. But I’m tired of waiting for the perfect moment. And I think we have something special . . .
Does that sound cheesy? Maybe I could make it more casual. Hey, Asher, you have a really nice dick and great hygiene. I’d like to see more of you.
Nope.
Cheesy it is, then. For once, I’m going to just say all the things I’m feeling. If I don’t do it now, I never will.
I can’t lose him because I’m afraid to put myself out there.
If he turns me down, he turns me down. It will suck, but I’ll get over it.
Like I told Hannah last night . . . life happens, and you deal. There are no guarantees.
But if I took a chance for my list, I can take a chance for what’s beyond all the rows, columns, and body parts.
I tuck in my shirt and plan my speech again. It turns out I have a posh fucker kink, Asher. Let’s do this right.
37
POKER FACE
ASHER
Alone in the bathroom, I read Lucy’s texts. And I can’t believe what she’s telling me.
There’s no fuck-up. Quite the opposite⏤FLI wants to give me that job that I was sure I’d already lost. But now it’s mine. If I want it. Although the details have changed.
I crank on the shower and try to process this development.
The job is still photographing football players. It’s still the sport I love. But it’s not a month’s worth of branding work. They want a year.
It’s a huge opportunity and one I should be thrilled about. Hell, I figured I’d be dancing a jig.
But I’m not. Maybe it’s because the details changed. Or maybe it’s something else.
Something bigger.
I shower in a state of numbness, briefly surprised at how quick it is to rinse out my short hair. And as I towel off afterwards, I still can’t believe I got this plum job—and that it starts in five days. And Lucy says they want to hear from me ASAP.
That’s just so typical of FLI. In the world of football, they’re all powerful. Every day, they change players' lives with a single phone call. And photographers’, I suppose.
Today it’s my turn.
But first, a wedding. I try to shrug off my surprise ⏤I did, after all, pitch FLI on the whole idea⏤ as I head to my bedroom. My crisp new shirt waits for me on a hanger. As I get dressed, my mind ricochets like a pinball from one life-changing event to another. Flip is marrying the woman of his dreams in just over an hour. The wedding guests include a number of our prep school friends that I haven’t seen in years. They’re descending on Star Island imminently.
I need to focus on today’s events. I put on socks, and step into the new trousers. Work can wait.
Except it can’t.
Because of Mark.
He enters the room carrying my bow tie. And a serious look in his eyes. “Hey,” he says, and there’s a lot of weight in that one word.
“Hey.” My throat is tight all of a sudden. He looks so good in the gray slacks, and the white shirt, and that steely blue jacket. The colors that I put together that afternoon only . . .
That was less than a week ago.
But everything has changed in just a few days. Now, when I look into his cool blue eyes, I see so many things that I didn’t see before. Passion. Comfort. Humor.
Me.
Fuck.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks.
“Of course.” My voice is gravel.
“But first, let’s get this over with,” he says, coming forward to loop the bow tie around my neck. His hands on me, even through clothes, make my skin sing. It feels wrong to enjoy his touch this much, but still, I savor it as he flips up my collar and adjusts the position of the silk. “God,” he rumbles from inches away, and this moment is about as perfect as one could be. “Posh fuckers look good after a few days in the sun. The view from where I’m standing is top notch.”
Mark smiles, but his eyes dart up to check mine for a reaction. He seems nervous. Mark is hardly ever nervous. He never was in the bedroom. He hardly was out of it either, except when he was trying to sort me out. And all of a sudden, I have a pretty good idea of what he wants to talk about.
“Mark?” My bones are heavy as I say his name.
“Yeah?” His knuckles graze my jaw as he works. I lean toward him, craving his nearness. And the scent of his crisp aftershave.