Page 42 of Flirt
He sounded terse, which Asher found adorable. “I’ll be particularly interested to see what you think about chapter four.”
“Why? What happens in chapter four?”
Asher really wished he could be in the room to watch Cameron while he read it. The guy was going to lose his ever-loving mind. “Call me,” he yelled as he shifted into reverse and eased his foot off the brake. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Asher! What the hell? Tell me what happens!”
Laughing to himself, he rolled up the passenger window, backed out of the parking space, and pulled away. The sight of Cameron in his rearview mirror—hands on hiships, feet planted, chin tipped stubbornly into the air—made him laugh harder.
He couldn’t wait to get home and start writing another chapter, one just for Cameron Stone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Instead of writing, Asherspent the rest of the afternoon on the phone, finding homes for the stuff in his house that hadn’t sold during the estate sale.
Some pieces of furniture, like the sofa in his den and the beds in the guest suites, he’d decided to keep. The rest had been donated to a non-profit organization that helped women fleeing abusive relationships. His arcade games had gone to a local LBGTQ shelter for teens, while his art and collectibles would be appraised and sent to auction.
After getting Natalie’s number from Cameron, he’d texted her to ask if there was anything she wanted for her store. He had then spent the next several hours, in between phone calls, sending her pictures of some things he thought might be ideal for her shop. In the end, he had agreed to set aside two antique, floral Tiffany lamps, a jade dragon, the set of vases displayed in his foyer, along with the nineteenth century Victorian desk.
With her last name being Stone, she’d been stubborn, protesting the entire time. More than once, she had offered to pay him, but Asher didn’t want her money. Instead, he had suggested a trade for the pirate chest in her store. She’d countered with the chest, an oak library table with a hidden compartment, and a stained-glass fruit bowl.
They had battled back and forth—Natalie called it negotiating—for what felt like forever. When they’d finally reached an agreement, Asher had found himself the proud new owner of the coveted pirate chest, an outdoor fireplace that looked like a dragon breathing flames, and its matching loveseat in the shape of a sleeping dragon with thick, fluffy red cushions.
The woman was just like her brother—insanely frustrating and completely irresistible.
A glass of bourbon in hand, Asher stood on the balcony of his upstairs office, leaning his elbows against the cast iron railing and staring up at the night sky. Even with the neighborhood lights aglow, he could make out a handful of stars sprinkled around a crescent moon. It had been a long time since he’d watched the stars. It had been a long time since he’d really taken the time to stop and just enjoy anything.
Summer’s tight grip on the city had finally started to ease, the temperatures cooling with the threat of coming storms over the next couple of days. The sky was still clear, and he couldn’t smell the rain in the air yet, but there was a subtle chill in the wind, a prelude of things to come. He wished Cameron was there to enjoy the night with him.
Jesus, he had it bad.
He’d left Cameron just over six hours ago, and already, he couldn’t wait to see him again. It seemed no matter what he did lately, he was always thinking of the guy. Evenwhen he wrote, he would find himself smiling as he imagined Cameron’s reactions to certain scenes.
Thursday night couldn’t come soon enough, and yet Sunday always came too soon. As long as the forecast didn’t change, they could cuddle on his new loveseat, in front of his new fireplace, under the safety of his covered patio, and watch the rain together. It wasn’t something he would have ever suggested in the past, probably because he’d never wanted to spend time with anyone else.
Sex was great, fun, and uncomplicated. When it was over, he and his partner for the evening went their separate ways, and everyone was happy.
He never worried about saying the wrong thing or making the wrong move. He didn’t care what they liked on their pizza or who their favorite actors were. He didn’t stock their favorite coffee creamer or make sure he had edible food in the fridge. He didn’t show up at their offices to take them to lunch, then happily offer to comfort their sisters after an embarrassing breakup.
He damn sure didn’t agree to a sexless relationship for thirty freaking days…and be completely fine with it.
Sure, every minute he was with Cameron, he fantasized about having the man under him, naked and writhing, hearing his name as a sigh on those soft lips. He had every confidence that when they did finally make it to that stage, they’d be combustible together, but he didn’tneedit. Getting to know Cameron, learning his likes and dislikes,just being with him was enough. It was more than enough. Hell, it was all he ever wanted to do anymore.
When the hell had he becomethatguy?
Thankfully, before he could spiral into a full self-examination that included all his least desirable qualities, his phone vibrated against his thigh. Smiling, he pulled it from his pocket, knowing without looking that the text would be from Cameron. The message on the screen turned his smile into a full belly laugh.
Cameron: Are you fucking insane?
Clearly, he’d gotten around to reading the chapters Asher had left him.
Asher: What? Too much?
Cameron: No. Maybe. Holy crap, Asher!
Okay, he couldn’t really tell if that was a compliment or not. Sure, he’d been taking a chance when he’d sent Detective Kane undercover as a drag queen, but he thought it had been a pretty good chapter. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Asher: Do I need to take it out? Rewrite it?
