CHAPTER SEVEN
Needing a drink like he needed to breathe, Asher kept his arm around Cameron and steered him toward the bar. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, the skin prickling with the sensation of being watched.
“He’s going to kill you.” Cameron sounded delighted by the prospect.
“Probably.” Stopping at the end of the bar, he glanced over Cameron’s shoulder, unsurprised to find Nico still glaring daggers at him. “He’ll get over it.”
“Probably,” Cameron echoed, his right shoulder lifting in a kind of half shrug. For someone who’d just been assaulted, he seemed in remarkably high spirits.
Breathing in deeply through his nose, he let it out slowly as he reached for Cameron’s left arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m okay.” Understanding what Asher intended, he turned sideways and pulled up the short sleeve of his polo. “It’ll bruise,” he added absently, holding his arm out awkwardly as he tried to see the back of it. “I’ve always bruised easily.”
Indeed, four finger-shaped marks had already begun to bloom, curving around the muscle and ending with half-moon indentation where Tarzan’s nails had bitten into the skin.
Seeing the evidence of the attack did little to calm his simmering rage.
He understood a man needed to fight his own battles, but it had been torture to stand there and do nothing while that bastard shook Cameron around like a rag doll.
“So, I’m not going to be home tomorrow, huh?” Smirking, Cameron pushed his shirt sleeve back down, brushed the edges of his collar a couple of times, then lifted his arm to signal the bartender. “Are you kidnapping me, Mr. Dare?”
Asher didn’t know what had possessed him to say that to Nico, but at least Cameron seemed to be taking it better than his friend. “I guess that depends.”
“On?”
The bartender arrived, and Asher ordered two shots of tequila, leaning across the bar to be heard over the music. Once the bartender walked away, he turned back to Cameron, feeling a little calmer.
“Depending on?” Cameron pressed, his eyes dancing with humor.
“Well, you can’t really kidnap someone if they come willingly.”
“Are you asking me back to your place?”
Two shot glasses landed in front of them with a thump, and Asher asked the bartender to close out his tab before nudging one of the shots toward Cameron. “Bottoms up, lover boy. ”
Cameron snorted as he clinked their glasses together, then tossed his back with a full-body shudder. “Fuck, that’s nasty.” Dropping the empty shot glass onto the bar, he wiped at his watering eyes and spent a few seconds wheezing. “It’s like drinking gasoline.”
“Oh, you drink a lot of gasoline?”
“Hardy har. You’re a goddamn riot.”
But he laughed, and the sound went straight to Asher’s cock. “God, you’re a sexy motherfucker.”
Well, that shut him up.
“Relax,” he added when Cameron’s cheeks flamed. “I’m not going to maul you.”
Cameron ducked his head and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “What if I want you to?”
He was too much, and while Asher’s dick was in full agreement, acting on his desires wouldn’t make him any better than Tarzan. “You want to go get coffee?”
The affirming smile he received was so damn sweet it made his teeth ache. Settling his tab, along with a generous tip, he took Cameron’s hand, pulling him across the club and through the exit.
Heat still infused the night, the same as it had the previous week, but the humidity had settled, making the temperatures bearable. Well, he wasn’t sweating through his shirt at any rate.
“You don’t have to do this. ”
No, he didn’t, but they needed to talk, and Cameron probably needed to get some sugar and caffeine in him before the adrenaline completely faded. He didn’t look like he’d go into shock, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to crash hard once his body caught up with his brain.
“How did you end up on a date with that Neanderthal?” He hoped he sounded only mildly curious. “You said it was a blind date?”
“Yes and no.” Cameron squeezed their interlocked hands and smiled. “Long story short, Nico wanted to go out with James.”
“The guy in the tank top.”
He nodded.
The pieces began falling into place. “And he wanted to set his friend up with someone.”
“Basically. Lucky me.”
“Tell me what happened.” Yes, he wanted to keep Cameron talking, but surprisingly, he realized he actually wanted to know all the sordid details.
Cameron told him about how Scott had monopolized the conversation during dinner, his scathing comments to the server, and his delusional confidence that Cameron wanted to sleep with him. He’d just finished explaining about “pumpkin guy” when they reached the front entrance of Grinders.
“He was such an ass. ”
Asher nodded in commiseration, but when he tried to lead the way inside, Cameron pulled back as he glanced up and down the sidewalk. “Are you sure about this?” he asked again. “There’s another coffee place two blocks down.”
Ah, he didn’t oppose coffee, just the location. Asher didn’t have to ask why. “I’m positive.”
He had no desire to see Kyle Anders or relive the past the man represented, but he refused to hide. Besides, he needed answers. Kyle wanted something from him, and Asher wouldn’t find out what he wanted unless he talked to the guy. The easiest way to accomplish that was to let Kyle find him again.
Sensing the questions spinning in Cameron’s head, he urged him into the café and turned the conversation back to the nightmare date.
“So, tell me what happened when you got to the club.” He’d seen the entire thing play out from the moment they’d entered Outlaws, but he hadn’t been able to hear the words spoken between them. “He tried to kiss you, right?”
Cameron chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah, he tried.” He placed their orders—caramel macchiato and a vanilla latte—then stepped to the side of the counter while he recounted everything that had happened up to Asher’s arrival.
“Then, you showed up, and by the way, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see anyone.
” He blushed a little at the confession.
“Well, you know what happened after that. ”
Possessiveness, jealousy, or something far more tender—Asher didn’t know what came over him, but the desire to kiss Cameron overwhelmed him.
Without thinking, without second-guessing himself, he pressed his palm to the side of Cameron’s neck, sliding is fingers around his nape, and dragged him forward.
Before their lips met, he hesitated, unsure for the first time in years. He realized he didn’t want to just take. Not this time. He wanted Cameron to want this.
Thankfully, his indecision lasted only a heartbeat before Cameron closed the distance and slanted their mouths together in a chaste kiss that stirred something in Asher beyond his libido.
He didn’t understand why, but he had the sudden desire to thank him, as if Cameron had just offered him a priceless gift.
Instead, it was Cameron who thanked him .
“Thank you for coming to my rescue.” He arched his neck, brushing their lips together again, a little firmer this time, and laced with silent promise. “And thank you for bringing me here.”
Groaning, he gentled his hold and bowed his head to rest their brows together. “You’re killing me, Cameron.”
He’d never met anyone who got under his skin quite like Cameron did.
From the first moment they’d met, the guy had burrowed in and wouldn’t let go.
Those sweet blushes, his pure honesty, and those goddamn expressive eyes haunted him long after they parted.
This time, Asher didn’t know if he’d be able to walk away.
When he’d left his house earlier in the evening, his only goal had been to get drunk and find someone to take back to his bed so he could stop thinking about Cameron Stone. Then, somehow, he’d ended up mostly sober and fully dressed in a coffee shop with the same guy he wanted to forget.
Then, Cameron had kissed him, and for the first time in his adult life, he’d felt something. One simple, innocent kiss had completely changed everything.
~
Slouched in the passenger seat of Asher’s sleek Lexus, Cameron stared out the window until the city lights gave way to suburban streetlamps.
His lips still tingled from the kiss they’d shared, and he had to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from tracing them with his fingertips like a heroine in some romantic comedy.
It hadn’t been anything like he’d expected. No urgency. Nothing hard and demanding. Just a sweet brush of lips that challenged everything he thought he knew about the man sitting beside him.
A chaste kiss that had apparently made him lose his damn mind, because otherwise, he wouldn’t be on his way to Asher’s house with every intention of spending the night. Maybe the weekend. It went against every one of his self-imposed rules.
He wasn’t reckless or given to sudden fits of spontaneity.
Quite the opposite really. Plans, lists, schedules, those things he understood.
Vacations were planned down to the minute.
Before he even arrived at his destination, he knew where he’d eat, where he’d sleep, and what attractions he wanted to visit.
It drove his sister crazy, but she’d long ago given up trying to change him.
His past relationships had been conducted with the same attention to detail and organization.
No surprise lunch visits. No random weekend getaways.
He’d dated Richard for three months before ever stepping foot into his house.
It had been three months after that before he’d agreed to spend the night.
Now, here he was, two accidental dates and one fairly virginal kiss later, on his way home with a man he barely knew.
It didn’t feel wrong, though. The idea of spending the weekend with Asher didn’t spike his anxiety or send him into a tailspin of self-doubt.
In the three years he’d been with Richard, not once had he felt as comfortable as he did just sitting in silence with Asher.