Page 12 of Flirt
“He doesn’t date.”
Cameron didn’t want to date him, though. Did he?
Flopping back against the cushions, he scrubbed both hands over his face and groaned. He really needed to stop thinking about the guy. For fuck sakes, he didn’t even know if Asher was his real name or a pseudonym. He’d had more meaningful conversations with people in the check-out line at the supermarket. He definitely didn’t waste his time on superficial pretty boys out to prove something.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” he admitted miserably.
The cushion next to him dipped, and a strong hand landed on his knee. “At first, I thought you were just a little star-struck because you’re such a big fan.” For the first timesince they’d left the club, Nico didn’t sound judgmental or accusatory. “Now, I think maybe you just want to fix him.”
Dropping his hands, Cameron glared at his best friend. “He’s not broken.”
Nico just grinned. “Isn’t he, though?”
God, he hated it when Nico used his reasonable voice. Any argument he offered now would sound childish and defensive in comparison. The very worst thing was that a small part of him knew Nico spoke the truth. He’d always been a sucker for the broken ones, always thinking he could put them back together, mend them, and make them whole. He’d had his heart broken enough times to know it never turned out well for him.
“I think you just need to get laid.”
Cameron rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “That’s your answer for everything.”
“Hey, if it works, why change it?”
“Not everyone thinks with their dick, Nico.”
“I assure you, when my dick is involved, there is no thinking.”
Cameron threw his hands up and huffed. “That’s the problem!”
“Most people would disagree. It’s okay to turn your brain off sometimes and just feel something good.”
“I know that.”
Nico arched one inky eyebrow at him. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
Seven months and twenty-two days, but who was counting? “Drop it, Nico.”
“Look, I know your whole thirty-day rule, but how’s that working out for you? Maybe you need to try something different.”
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, shoving at the man’s shoulder. “Just shut up.”
“So, I know this guy…”
“Go away.” He’d let Nico set him up once, and it had been such a disaster he’d sworn never to repeat the mistake. “Get out.” He jabbed his index finger toward the front door. “Go torment someone else.”
“Come on,” Nico prodded. “He’s a really nice guy.”
“Kiss of death.”
Nico laughed, undeterred. “Okay, he’s not the hottest guy ever, but since when are you so shallow?”
“I’m not.” He was almost afraid to ask. “How not hot are we talking?”
Nico shrugged. “He’s decent. You’ll like him. He’s into computers, too.”
“What’s the catch?” With Nico, there was always a catch.
“It, uh, it’s sort of like a double date.”
Actually, that didn’t sound so bad. It certainly took a lot of pressure off him. “So, you want to fuck his friend/brother/cousin or whatever, and I’m supposed toentertain him while you charm the other guy out of his clothes.”
