6. Jordan #3
“Sorry I scared you,” he muttered. “I thought you were still sleeping.”
I decided not to point out it was already half past seven. “Coffee?”
“Mm.” He lingered a moment longer. His torso was all etched with definition.
His abs led down with a pronounced V line that hid inside his small underwear.
I didn’t look any lower, although I knew his legs were practically hairless and his thighs strong.
I knew his calves were just as defined as the rest of him but also as lithe.
He combined his slenderness and his definition like Adonis.
Asher rolled his round shoulders, his chest stretching, and turned away. “I’ll get dressed.”
Don’t, I thought. “Sure,” I murmured instead.
I didn’t breathe. I didn’t even blink. The back panel of his black briefs was pulled slightly toward the middle and the seams of the leg openings were lifted over his smooth, round ass.
It wasn’t anything wild, but that inch of flesh I rarely saw was enough to make my brain spin and my heart pound out of my chest.
The small of his back was dented between the long extended muscles and the thick curve of his ass.
The one-inch waistband with the brand name’s silver lettering hung low on his hips, giving me a lot to daydream about.
But it was the strength and broadness of his upper back that truly took my breath away.
He had gone from a small and slender twink to a serious athlete in the years since I’d met him.
It was hard to erase the old image of him and accept that he had transformed so much.
Perhaps it wasn’t only his body that I still saw that way. Perhaps I truly ignored the fact that he had matured. My advice and so-called lectures wouldn’t be welcome if I spoke to him like he was an irresponsible child.
Asher disappeared around the corner and I heard his thumping footsteps up the stairs and then down again.
He returned with a pair of shorts hanging low from his waist and a T-shirt that he was just pulling over his head.
It gave me one last look at his tight abdomen before he let the T-shirt drop.
His arms were my next fascination now that the rest of him was covered.
His bulging biceps couldn’t match mine, but they didn’t need to.
His beauty wasn’t in brute force and raw strength.
I poured two mugs full of freshly brewed coffee and pushed one to him. “A peace offering,” I said softly, although that was a hard thing to pull off in my voice. It was naturally rough.
“Truce it is,” Asher said with a nod.
We lifted our mugs simultaneously and brought them to our lips. My gaze darted from the rim of my mug to Asher and I found him looking at me. The brilliant mossy green of his eyes held my gaze for a heartbeat and then another.
I swallowed my sip and looked down as I set my mug on the island’s counter. “I think we should start over.”
Asher thought about it for a time. “If that means you’re redoing last night’s pasta, I vote in favor.”
“If that’s what you want to do, I’m sure I can whip it up again.” If he was teasing me, it flew over my head. I decided that reading too much into it was most of our problems. “But I was thinking something more along the lines of trying from the beginning. All the way back.”
To his credit, Asher didn’t laugh at me. He didn’t roll his eyes or tell me to find another pet project. All of those things had already crossed my mind. I had prepared myself for a heartless response and a miscommunication. “Go on.”
I licked my lips and drummed the fingertips of my left hand against the counter.
“We keep starting off the wrong way, Asher. Since I met you, we’ve been one wrong word away from a fight.
I’m tired of always fighting. And I’m tired of looking like the know-it-all asshole you think I am.
We’re here now, as close to heaven as it gets, and we’re wasting our breath on bickering. ”
Asher pouted for a moment. It was hard not to crack a smile at that. Nothing made me want to kiss him as much as his bratty pouts. “Why do I feel like you’re calling me out?”
I snorted. “I’m really not. Can you listen to me for a hot minute?”
“I’m fucking with you,” he said and shook his head. “I hear you. We’re not a great match, but why let that ruin our summer, huh?”
I sucked my teeth softly and bought a moment of time to think by drinking coffee.
Then, I exhaled and shrugged. “It’s more than that.
We could actually have a good time here.
Who knows how long we’ll be alone. Besides, we’re heading for another year of sharing the house at Northwood, playing on the same team, and spending holidays with our parents.
You know what would be good? If we weren’t out for blood all the damn time.
And it’s my fault as much as it is yours. ”
He narrowed his eyes almost playfully. It was like he wanted to see if he could provoke me. He didn’t want to know what he was provoking with those expressions.
“Let’s not keep a scoreboard. Or let’s reset it and keep a new score,” I suggested.
Asher was quiet for a minute. When he looked at me again, he seemed genuinely curious. “What brought that on?”
“I dunno,” I said. I can’t stand having all these crazy, wild feelings for you and only ever showing you contempt. “I figured we might get along if we stopped resurrecting all the old fights.”
“Okay,” Asher said simply. “Eye for an eye, but from zero.” He chuckled, and I realized he was kidding.
It was hard to keep up. When his laughter died down, he avoided my eyes and looked at his coffee instead.
It took him a long time before he spoke again and he shifted awkwardly more than once in that silence.
“And about last night…” His voice was tight again.
I forced out a chuckle even though the mere mention of it made my dick stir. “We’re all human. It was just bad timing.”
Asher shook his head while staring at his coffee, his lips stretching into a wickedly handsome smile of disbelief. “Right. Let’s not talk about that, then.”
I would have tapped his shoulder then and said something light and fun, but the fire in me burned so brightly that I didn’t dare risk grazing his skin with mine. I would explode like dynamite. I would burst into flames.
We laughed together and I pulled back a pace.
It was as good as things could get. I wasn’t going to risk this little truce by immediately discussing the fact that he had masturbated exactly four minutes after having a fight with me.
And I absolutely wouldn’t let myself think about it, either.
If he had gotten over our fight so quickly that he could get hard, undress, and sweat all over, I didn’t want to think that it showed how little importance he assigned to me.
For just one day, I wanted to try something I had never allowed myself to try before.
I wanted us to be friends.