Page 109 of Kneel with the King
Not even close.
Kiss the King
Asher
At the endof my workday, I make my way to King’s large office, which is on the other side of the floor. As I walk up to the door, I watch him scowling at his computer screen as he clicks and types, the bright light of the screen reflecting off his various piercings. Something inside my chest tightens when I think of what’s next for us, but instead of running from it, I decide to let the butterflies scatter inside me and see where they fall.
“Do you need something, Harrison?” he asks without looking up from his computer, a hint of playfulness to his tone.
“I’m just about to head out. I wanted to see if you needed anything before I go.”
His eyes flick over to me, and I make sure I rub my mouth withthehand.
I clock the way his pupils flare when he sees the collar around my wrist, the same one from the retreat. Unbeknownst to him, I’d been carrying it in my suit jacket for the last few days as something to remember him by. But now that we’ve kind of, sort of reconciled, I figure there’s another use for it again.
“Did you see the official acceptance letter from Walter?” he asks, ignoring the collar.
Something akin to disappointment sinks deep inside of me, and I clear my throat, nodding. “I did. Congratulations, Ambrose.”
“Webothacquired him, Asher,” he replies quickly. “You got your wish in the end.”
I nod solemnly. “I suppose I did.”
Pushing back from his desk, he places his hands behind his head. I do my best not to let my eyes rove over his strong chest, or the way his muscular thighs contract as he stretches in his chair.
“Now what?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Shrugging, I take a step closer. I don’t blame him for being cautious. I was the one to walk away, after all. We both said things we can’t take back, but I was the coward—twice. So now, I need to show him that even though it fucking terrifies me, I’m all in.
“I had a look at the company fraternization rules,” I say slowly, placing my hands in the pockets of my trousers.
“Hmm, is that so?” he asks, his face neutral and not daring to give anything away.
I nod. “Yes. Turns out, intracompany romantic relationships are fine, as long as they beganbeforewe started working together.”
“Interesting,” he muses.
“And,” I add, taking another step closer. “It’s a good thing we’re both in senior management, because while it’s not against policy, itisfrowned upon to date people who are higher up or lower down on the management scale.”
“That is a very convenient coincidence,” he murmurs, his pupils growing darker the closer I get to his desk.
“I thought so, too. Which is why I emailed HR just to clarify our relationship.”
“Oh?” he asks, voice husky. “And what did they say?”
I shrug. “They gave us the go-ahead, and also asked if we’d like to participate in the Pride Month partnership initiative. Something about featuring diverse leadership in the company’s LGBTQIA+ visibility campaign.”
King’s eyebrows lift. “That’s a big step for someone who told me only two and a half weeks ago that you weren’t gay.”
His words sting, despite expecting this kind of reaction. Unlike him, who has been out and comfortable in his skin for years, this is all new territory for me. I’m going to need toshowhim that I’m okay with publicly outing myself, because I am. Because these last two weeks have been a huge lesson for me, with the help of Ava. Who needs therapy when you have your ex’s yogi sister on speed dial?
“I know. But I figured I could speak on a panel about bi erasure, or something. Use my face and my title for something useful.”
His gaze sharpens, assessing me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m bluffing. “And that doesn’t scare you?” he asks, voice low.
“Everything about this scares me,” I admit, stepping closer until the edge of his desk presses into my thigh. “But losing you scares me more.”
The air between us shifts. His posture changes—still guarded, but not as rigid. His fingers drum once against the arm of his chair before stilling.
