Chapter 12
The converted warehouse had multiple half walls, breaking apart the open room to showcase dozens of pieces from local artists. Paintings in various styles and sketches hung around the room in sections while sculptures dotted the floor.
Disguising the constant hum of voices was a string quartet, sat on a raised dais in the center of the room and filling the air with gentle strains of Haydn, Beethoven, and Schubert.
More my sister’s thing, art wasn’t much of an interest of mine.
The pieces gracing my home were mostly her choices, and the others were Mother’s.
However, tonight was yet another event, another moment for philanthropists to share their good charity and for some to find the recognition for it they craved.
For me, tonight was another opportunity to see Asher. His reasons for coming to these things were a mystery, but he’d be here. He would.
After last weekend, he had to be here.
He didn’t disappoint.
Dressed in what might be the very same suit he’d been in the last time, and the time before, Asher escorted his curvy, blonde cousin around the room.
The pair were striking, and everyone noticed.
Women and men alike took second glances, sometimes thirds.
Me? Well, I’d lost count of how many times I’d followed him with my eyes or stood at one sculpture only to stare right past it to him.
Tonight, he wore dark liner around his eyes and nude gloss over his lips. The effect wasn’t feminine at all, not with his slicked-back hair and suit, but it worked. As lovely as the art around us.
“Luke, darling.”
I quickly pivoted away from the metal loops that probably had some deep meaning I’d completely ignored and smiled for Mother. “Good evening,” I said and kissed her cheek.
“You really mustn’t stand here alone.” She circled my elbow and steered me in the absolute wrong direction: away from Asher. Within seconds, we were behind a partition, my obsession out of sight, and hurrying toward Georgina and others.
I unsuccessfully swallowed a groan.
“None of that, dear. Georgina is a perfect match,” Mother said without lowering her smile. “You’ll see. Trust Mother,” she finished under her breath, then louder said, “Ladies, I found him.”
A chorus of “hellos” and “good to see yous” followed as I donned the fake Luke I’d let slip too often lately. How could I not? Within short order and seemingly little effort, Asher had managed to do what I’d planned against for the last twenty years.
He’d gotten in my head.
He’d gotten under my skin, taken over my imagination, and dominated my dreams.
Sleeping or awake, I thought of him. What happened last weekend influenced most of it, but also everything else.
His many facets. With the way he easily controlled me against the wall and yet blushed at the Thanksgiving donation event, he might as well be two separate people.
He had me off-kilter at best, but I didn’t mind.
I didn’t mind the change to the monotony I’d created.
Through years of practice, I only half paid attention as Mother spoke with the women, including me in their discussion, which I appropriately responded to.
They might’ve been planning my wedding or funeral, who knew, as long as my responses were on point.
They tittered and gushed about whatever, and then all noise stopped when the flow of traffic brought Asher in view again.
In all my stalking tonight, he’d never once crossed glances with me, even though he dipped his chin every so often and grinned as if he knew I’d see it. As he entered this section, he searched. My lips twitched, trying to hold in a grin when it wasn’t needed for whatever Mother was saying.
Don’t mess up now.
Asher’s cousin spoke of something while waving a hand around them. He was tall enough to see over her head, and he did, muttering words, that had me inwardly chuckling. Was he playing my game? Present yet distracted.
After a few more steps, his eyes crossed mine. He stopped, nearly stumbled, then quickly glanced away. So it was the shy Asher tonight. Intriguing.
His cousin didn’t notice his blunder. They kept with the stream of bodies, digesting each piece of art and moving on, all while his gorgeous eyes found mine a dozen times.
All too quickly, they were done with this section.
He disappeared around a temporary wall, gaze glued to mine, asking me to follow, and I wanted to.
And I did.
“Ladies, it’s been a pleasure, but I’m afraid there are a few other works I wanted to see tonight.” I pulled my arm free of Mother’s and bowed slightly.
“Oh, darling, if you must, why not take Georgina with you? I’m sure she’d love to see them as well.” Mother waved at the woman, who lowered her gaze to the floor.
Fuck.
Georgina’s shyness was so unlike Asher’s, I grimaced.
The woman was painful in her social abilities, where Asher was bold when he wanted to be.
His cheeks might’ve burned, he might’ve lowered his gaze, but within the next second, he pushed past it, faced me or whatever straight on.
Good Lord, Georgina would faint on the spot if Father spoke to her the way he had to Asher.
“Ah, I’m not sure I’d be the best companion to discuss the merits of the artwork. William was going to help me choose something for my office.”
Mother opened her mouth, but I spoke over her as I backed away.
“Another time, perhaps. Good evening, ladies.” And with that, I spun and ran away. Retreat? Never. Rather, making quality use of the only escape route.
As if he’d known I was in need and proving he should remain my best friend, William found me.
“For fuck’s sake, why did you stay so long?” He glanced around my shoulder as if the women were hot on my heels, brandishing marriage contracts. “I didn’t even dare go in that section for fear I’d be sucked in.”
His own mother had been among the small group, and he would’ve been roped and captured. I couldn’t even tease him about it, having only now taken a full, free breath of air.
“For that very reason.”
William snickered. “Signed the prenup yet?”
“No.” I pulled my shoulders back and exhaled, blowing out my cheeks. “She’ll see me wed to this one, though. It should be no different than any other time before. However, Mother …”
My words fell away as that so-called free air choked me.
Across the main room, farther than my liking, Asher smiled at an insanely handsome man by his side.
Asher’s hand rested on his forearm as they both engaged in whatever was said, but it was enough.
Enough familiarity, enough intimacy, and ugly, poisonous jealousy clouded my vision.
The thin guy in a well-fitting suit stood taller than Asher. His dark brown waves hung like a secret over his eyes, sharp features, and gorgeous smile.
Who. The. Fuck?
After our run-in last weekend, my brain had had a one-track mind: Asher. All things Asher. Yet here he stood, clearly spreading his charms with others. Charms I wanted to squander. Charms I wanted to claim as my own.
Completely unreasonable, sure. I had no claim on Asher.
I had no claim to even claim him. I wasn’t out, and Asher wasn’t mine, as sad as that thought was.
But did I want him to be? After twenty years of being in the closet, would I risk it all for him?
I barely knew him, but what I did know was shattering.
Like a tornado, Asher had swooped in, leveled my world, yet he hadn’t moved on. After last weekend, after pushing my limits, he kept me in the eye of his storm. All around me was danger. The unknown, my parents, marriage prospects, reputation, and my inheritance, yet he’d held me safe inside.
Exactly.
Safe.
Our encounter had that one quality I’d never had with any of the women I was set up with. Clear. Defining. There was no way I could go through with a marriage, even for convenience, because I’d never be safe with them.
But now that space, that eye he’d built for me, wavered. Who the fuck was this man taking Asher from me?
“That’s, hmm, Asher, wasn’t it? Where is the little Tasmanian Devil?” William asked, and then he walked off.
Right toward Asher.
William would be winning the best wingman in existence award. Even when he wasn’t aware. Now I had all the reasons in the world to get answers—and cockblock, if needed.
“Hello,” Asher said with a wide grin as we reached him and his friend. The man turned, and Jesus, up close, he was even more astonishing.
“Tate, this is William and Luke.” Asher nodded at us, then waved toward Tate. “Tate and I went to high school together.”
I tipped my chin in greeting and tried not to seethe. “Small world.”
“What brings you here tonight?” William asked, then bumped Asher with his elbow. “If you plan on causing a scene, give me a heads-up.”
Tate cocked his head, disturbing his perfect face with a questioning brow raise. Ugh. “You? Cause a scene?”
“Uh, heh.” Asher rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Remember, with Percy and the man who bumped into him?”
Tate chuckled. No, not chuckled—his shoulders shook slightly, and the room became brighter. Seriously, who the fuck?
“Right,” Tate said.
Asher lifted a hand toward me but aborted it halfway. “That man was his daddy.”
Tate snapped his dark green eyes to me. “Oh. Luke, you said.” It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. Tate dropped his gaze and assessed the shit out of me on the trip back to mine. His eyes widened a fraction, and his mouth quirked to one side.
“No scenes tonight, hopefully,” Asher said, then glanced around. “I’m here with my cousin, wherever she’s gotten off to, and Tate’s here with his boyfriend.”
The pair turned toward the center of the room, and William and I followed their gaze toward the quartet. I wasn’t sure which one was the boyfriend and didn’t actually care. Answers had been given, and the pieces fell into place.
My cheeks burned.
What in the hell was wrong with me?
I didn’t do this. I wasn’t some adolescent without a hold on his hormones or his better sense.
But apparently, I was. Now that the jealousy had been reined in and caged, a new warmth burned.
One that wanted to grab Asher and fit him against my side.
One that wanted to announce he was mine as he’d so easily announced Tate’s boyfriend.
William, to his credit, didn’t bat an eye at the proclamation of the couple. “Which one?” he asked.
“The cello player,” Tate said.
Said cellist had his eyes closed, leaning into the music.
Aside from his intimidating size, even behind the large instrument, there was a notable scar on his cheek.
It was just the sort of uniqueness I’d have found devastatingly attractive two months ago.
However, my preferences, neglected as they’d been, had locked onto the man directly across from me.
The one with lovely hazel eyes who had been a beautiful woman but, as a man, had awoken my soul.
“He plays well,” William said, reminding me I wasn’t in a dream, that this was reality, and I was staring like a fool.
“He does,” I added.
Tate straightened his shoulders and smiled even wider. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell him. He’s a student now, but we’re hoping he’ll make it professionally.”
“He’s talented,” I said sincerely. “I hope he makes it as well.”
William returned his attention to Asher. “So where’s your sidekick tonight?”
“Percy?” Asher asked.
“Oh no.” Tate laughed. “He can’t be the sidekick. He’d hate that.”
“Hello, boys.” The four of us turned as Asher’s cousin joined us.
Percy was all but forgotten as William took in the woman who was exactly his type. At least now he was distracted, so I could ogle Asher as much as I wanted.
Words were said. Chuckles were had. I huffed in appropriate moments but only had eyes for Asher. The blush was long gone, and in its place was the confidence he’d shown facing off against my father and when he held me prisoner against a darkened club wall.
Those coy moments weren’t him. This was. This was the man who’d read me better than anyone else. The man who’d now proved he wasn’t going to out me, wasn’t going to publicly chastise me for whimpering while riding his leg.
Safe.
This was the man who’d made me come with ease and self-assurance.
I want a fucking taste, he’d said.
God, help me.