Page 54 of The Rest is History

I force my gaze away from him. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner,” I say. Anything to break this awkward moment.

“You’re welcome. Sawyer suggested it. He . . . likes you.”

I clear my throat. Is this the part where I say that I like him too? Because wouldn’t that be the whole fucking truth.

The ride isn’t that long, and in no time we’re pulling up outside their house.

I am overcome by an unfamiliar excitement.

Chapter 23

Sawyer

I take a look around the kitchen, making sure all the food is still warm, the wine is still chilled, and I still look halfway decent. The sound of Asher’s car pulling up sends goose bumps skating up and down my spine.

We agreed that Asher would be the one to talk to Reece. It’s the biggest risk we’ll ever take because what if he says no? But . . . what if he says yes?

It all looks and sounds like an ambush. This is how psychopaths prepare their victims. But just suggesting the idea of a three-way to Reece while we chopped logs at the woodlot seemed even more creepy.

Asher’s footsteps in the entry hall sends my heart to the sky. Fuck. Maybe this is a whole lot of shit Asher and I made up, and it’s not actually a viable solution to our fantasy sex life. There’s still time. I mean, this could really just be dinner. Asher or I can back out any time, and Reece would be none the wiser.

Asher walks into the kitchen. Reece trails behind him. Asher moves around the counter, and when he’s in front of me he leans over and kisses me. A soft kiss. “Hey,” he says. I try to decipher by his eyes and body language what the ride over here was like. I think it went well, considering Asher’s relaxed face. My eyes dart to Reece. He stands across the counter, keeping his eyes down. I kiss Asher quickly, then move away to greet him.

“Hey,” I say. “Happy birthday.”

“ Thanks. And thanks for inviting me. I can’t wait to eat all your good food.” He laughs.

We eat dinner and the conversation is easy. It’s fascinating how easily we get along. I spill gravy on my shirt, and Reece’s face gets so red when we bring out a birthday cake, I want to strip him down to see how far that redness goes.

After dinner, Reece helps me load the dishwasher while Asher clears the table. Then, when Reece is busy washing his hands at the sink, I slip upstairs for a change of shirt.

There just hasn’t been a good time to talk to Reece. Half of me is glad that Asher hasn’t said anything. The other half is still searching for ways to bring up the topic.

Chapter 24

Asher

I’m not sure I have the courage to say anything to Reece. He’s been polite and decent all evening. But the more I look at him the more I . . . want him.

But to actually go through with it? Fuck. This shit ain’t easy.

Sawyer is upstairs and Reece is with me in the kitchen. I hand him a towel to dry his hands.

When he’s done drying his hands, I pick up a tube of hand cream and apply some to my hands. Then, with my heart hammering in my chest, I step closer to him.

His breath hitches. Jesus fuck.

I take his hands in mine, applying cream to them. He pulls away immediately, and I step closer. There’s no other way to do this. I just don't have the balls to just stand here and ask him if he’d like to have sex with me and my husband. Taking his hand back in mine, I rub the cream into his skin. My focus is his lips. He notices.

“Ash, what are you doing?” he whispers.

“I’m moisturizing your hands,” I say.

“You’re too close.” His voice sounds pained. That might be a good sign. “What are you doing?” he repeats.

“I’m ambushing you,” I say after a long moment.

He lets out a short laugh. “Are you going to kill me?”

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