Chapter 9
The following weekend was another event, another reason to get dressed to the nines and donate money for a worthy cause.
And another weekend to see Asher. Denial had fled, screaming, after the auction.
Across a crowded room, with people ready to open their wallets and purses to donate Thanksgiving meals to hungry families, stood the very man who’d made my dick harder than it had ever been in my life.
No one had confronted my father the way he had, and over such a small thing too. Spilled food? I wasn’t sure anyone would face off against James Dorset for less than a million dollars’ worth of something. But Asher had.
Surrounded by my father’s friends and fellow business owners, Asher had held his ground and backed James Dorset into submission. Not that he hadn’t deserved it, but no one dared call Father out on his prejudice.
Father met social interactions the same way he did business opportunities: with a bulldozer.
He moved hard and fast. While others were still shaking their heads and wondering what the hell happened, Father had moved on to the next venture.
He commanded respect and attention. He led trends and boardrooms.
Yet, against Asher, the freshman college student who’d charmed my ass, all while wearing a fucking dress, he … Well, Father had apologized. I might never see it again, but there it was.
And there Asher was, smiling and talking animatedly with the same younger man he’d had with him last weekend while the blonde, his cousin, came and went.
“Unbelievable.”
“What’s that?” William asked.
“Uh, nothing.”
William craned his neck and zeroed in on Asher. “Who is that you’re staring at?”
“That’s, uh, that’s the man who had the run-in with my father last week.”
William grinned and scrunched his brows. “Him? That kid?” He’d missed the action, but the gossip had made the rounds.
“Yeah.” I laughed and rubbed the back of my neck. Yeah, him, that kid. A kid I couldn’t get out of my mind.
“Come on, let’s go say hello.”
Before I could think of an excuse not to or flat out say no, William marched toward Asher.
The young man with him nudged Asher and glanced at us, being less than subtle as he pointed to William, with me trailing behind him. Asher widened his eyes, then glanced around before biting his lip. Jesus, who was this kid?
“Good evening.” William nodded at the pair.
Asher blinked at me, then at William, and then at me again.
The younger man cocked a hip and sat his free hand on it. “Hi there, I’m Percy.” He tilted his head to Asher and shrugged, then winked and twitched his nose. Good Lord, he was … expressive.
“Name’s William Stovall. I’m friends with Luke here.”
“This is Asher,” Percy said when Asher remained quiet.
“I heard about what happened last Saturday with his father,” William said, tossing a thumb in my direction.
Asher stood straighter, sat his plate on the small table behind him, then rubbed his palms down his trousers. “Right. Yeah. Um, why?” Percy bumped him with his elbow, jolting him. “I mean, why are we still talking ’bout that? It was nothin’.”
“Nothing?” William laughed. “Nothing, he says. Why haven’t we met before? Are your parents part of those fools?” He gestured behind him. William had always been good at speaking on anyone’s level. Put him in a room full of royalty or blue-collar workers, and he’d come away with new friends.
“Oh. No?” Asher darted those pretty eyes at me. He definitely wasn’t the confident, cocky man from last week. “I’m here, uh, we’re here with my cousin.”
“Nice to meet you both.” William shook Asher’s offered hand, then returned Percy’s wave in greeting.
Asher turned to me, holding the same hand out. I glanced at it, then to the smile fighting its way onto his face.
“Hi,” he said.
Hoping William hadn’t noticed the awkward pause, I reached for Asher.
I hadn’t wanted to touch him again. I hadn’t prepared myself for it.
Everything about Asher was smaller than me.
Height, frame, even his hands. But when his fingers curled around mine, a certain strength flooded onto my skin and coursed up my arm.
Asher smiled wider, charisma oozing from him as his nerves melted, being replaced with the magnetism I remembered. It came naturally to him and was all the more potent for it. Dressed as a woman, being a woman in my eyes, he’d still captured my attention. As a man, did I stand a chance against it?
“Hi,” I said.
“William, perhaps you could settle a dispute for us.” Percy took a few steps toward the champagne fountain and waved for William to follow him.
“I’ll do my best. What’s up?”
“Well, you see, I’m adamant someone spiked the punch, because some of these people are acting a little weird.”
“That’s pink champagne, for one thing, not punch.” Their voices trailed off as they moved farther, leaving Asher and me standing together.
Asher glanced at their retreating backs, then licked his lips. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
I lifted a brow and bit back a grin. “Oh? Do you mean as Luke and Asher? Should we meet as Luke and Ashley?”
Pink bloomed across his tan cheeks. “I’m really sorry about that.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. So many questions flooded my mind and only served to bottleneck my cognitive process. Was I sorry he had? Yes, maybe. But had he been a man at that first event, I’d never have approached him.
William’s hearty laugh pulled me out of my thoughts. “You’re crazy, my man.” He clapped Percy on the shoulder, while Asher and I stepped away from each other as if we’d been pushing the bounds of propriety.
We had no reason to stay and talk with them, and dozens of reasons not to.
William and I made the circles, avoided our parents, signed checks, and made fund transfers, all while I stole glimpses of Asher across the room.
They seemed to move as we did, always staying within my sight, but never close enough.
The next week at work, my focus returned. I was determined, single-minded, and engrossed in my tasks. I filled my days with meetings and trades, nearly missed the Thanksgiving holiday, and caught up with William on Friday, making plans to head to the gym together that afternoon.
He didn’t mention Asher or Percy, so I didn’t bring them up either.
It’d have been nice to sort shit out with him, but I couldn’t.
Not yet and maybe never. William and I had survived the same version of parents, and he probably wouldn’t care if I told him I was gay, but I’d never even said that word out loud to myself. I couldn’t even form the sound of it.
The gym was practically deserted. Only us workaholics here instead of taking an extra day off to be with family.
I got in a good run as the financial news played on a TV, and then we hit the weights.
William was a little larger than me, but not as tall.
We spotted each other, me going about half speed while he pushed himself.
By the end of the two hours, I was drained but in a good way.
“How was it?” William asked. “You’re not feeling like you want to pass out?”
“Stop babying me. I’m fine.”
“Hey, you never know, man. I don’t know how that weak constitution of yours works,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes and pulled my shower bag out of my locker.
There was nothing wrong with my constitution, but as the years wore on, and I’d used the excuse of not feeling it so often to get out of clubbing or parties or anything where I might have to fake an interest in women, William had come to believe I had health issues.
“But since you’re feeling fine, let’s hit up the club tomorrow night.” He slammed his locker closed and turned for the showers. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Luke. You need to get laid.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
I closed my locker and sighed as I stared at the pale wood. How had I gotten to this point? Thirty-four years old, and the lies I’d lived had become my reality. With Asher crashing into my world, those lies were a bit more obvious than they used to be, though.
Was he even into men? Was I circling this drain for nothing more than an unexpected crush on a straight guy?
My analytical self presented me with the facts on repeat. Asher had pushed off my advance. He’d confessed right after I kissed him. I didn’t know what drove him to dress as a woman or accept the date, but the factors suggested he wasn’t into men. I’d forced the kiss, and he’d quickly shot me down.
He hadn’t been dressed the same since, so maybe it had all been a prank, a bet he lost, and now it was over.
That didn’t deter my imagination. The smile that warmed me from the inside out, his laugh that curled around me like arms, the breath of fresh air he forced into my lungs with his open expressions and teasing words, none of it changed, no matter what he wore or his orientation.
At least, not in my mind. Who knew the real Asher.