Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I tense, and Asher’s holding his breath.
But there’s barely a break in the conversation.
Slowly, I relax in Asher’s hold and chance a quick look at him. He’s confused, and I can’t blame him. Are they ignoring us on purpose?
Asher steals a quick sip of my coffee and loops his arm tighter around my waist. “Really not going to say anything, huh?” he finally asks.
Rossi looks over. “What, are we supposed to act surprised?”
“You knew?”
The four of them exchange looks, and Simms cocks his head. “Wait, did you guys think you were subtle?”
“Well, yeah.” Don’t they realize how painful it’s been to keep our hands to ourselves?
“Let’s review,” Rossi says, clearly amused. “Asher waits for you after every practice, you arrive together, you study together, you share a room at away games—where you really could try to be more quiet, by the way—West treats Kole like another brother, Coach can’t look at Asher without scowling, more so than usual, and if I have to hear the phrase Kole said one more time, my brain will start leaking out of my ears.”
I’m … kinda shocked. “And people say jocks are stupid.”
“You forget I was friends with Foster, and Beck and Jacobs, and Cohen. I’ve given up assuming people are straight, and you two have been behaving just like those other idiots.”
It’s the first time I think I’ve actually been glad to be outsmarted by jocks.
“Who else knows?” Asher asks.
“Literally the whole team,” Simms says. “We’ve known for ages.”
“And no one said anything?”
Stalberg screws up his face. “No offense, man, but none of us want to know about your sex life. That’s a strictly kiss and don’t tell situation.”
“Pity,” Asher says, and his tone gives me a split-second warning. “Because Kole sucks the best dick. You guys have no idea what you’re missing.”
Rossi sighs, and Stalberg clears his throat, and Kaplan looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Asher is lucky I don’t get embarrassed easy, but he’s so going to pay me back for that one later.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Asher says casually. “Did that make you uncomfortable?”
Simms gives him a deadpan look. “You really think we’re not used to your shit by now?”
“Worth a shot.”
“You’re going to have to try way harder than that these days,” Simms says.
“I’m sure I can come up with something.”
“What, you can get even more unpleasant?”
“I can try,” Asher taunts.
“And yet no one is surprised.”
Even though they’re goading each other, hearing them go back and forth makes me feel all warm. Because there’s no longer an undercurrent of tension. In fact, Asher’s smiling. Like, an actual one, not a shithead smirk meant to get under people’s skin.
I shift around to face him properly. “Look at you making friends and everything.”
“Safeword. Safeword.”
“Yeah, ‘safeword’ isn’t a safeword, and nothing is going to stop me from pointing out how much I love seeing you crawl out of your cocoon to become a beautiful social butterfly.” Knowing how much Asher likes to continue the act of keeping up his guard, there’s nothing more fun than pointing out how amazing he is in front of other people.
I just, umm, overdo it sometimes.
He sighs. “This is for the sucking cock comment, isn’t it?”
“It’s cute you think I’ll let you off that lightly, my snooky wooky … ah, booky?”
“Fuck no.”
“I’m going to buy pom-poms for your next game and wear a T-shirt with your face on it.”
“I will end you.”
“But I’m so pretty.”
His eyes sweep over my face.
“Dear God, can you turn him off?” Kaplan asks.
“I prefer the opposite,” Asher replies, getting a groan out of someone.
And oh yeah, this is going to be fun.
Asher pinches my chin and presses a quick kiss to my lips.
“We’re going to have to get used to that, aren’t we?” Simms asks.
“Sure are. I have no plans to keep my hands off my boyfriend just to make other people comfortable.”
“Eh,” Rossi says. “You guys can’t be worse than Beck and Jacobs.”
“Sounds like a challenge to me,” I say.
Apparently that’s the right answer because Asher presses another kiss to my cheek. Then he slaps my ass hard and orders me to stand up.
“We’re out,” Asher says. “See you guys at practice later.”
When we get outside, he takes my hand as we walk back to campus.
“I’m surprised that went so well,” I say.
“I’m not. You plus me equals perfection.”
“I think I’m beginning to understand why you were failing math.”
He tugs me to a stop, and where I’m expecting some smartass comeback, he just goes on smiling. “I mean it, you know.”
Aww, he’s being soft Asher. “I know.”
“Even in the hard moments, being with you is easy.”
“I could make a joke about how easy we both are when the other is hard, but instead … I have a theory.”
“What’s that?”
I step closer, meeting his green eyes as all that syrupy warmth flows through me just from being around him. “Either you’ve contracted some deadly disease that’s messing with your thoughts, or … you’re in love with me.”