Page 83 of Flirt
A drifter needing money, a tourist looking for a thrill, someone from his past with a score to settle—anything could happen.
Feet planted, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, scowl in place, he stood ten feet from the offending door when Cameron strolled through it. “Where the hell have you been?”
Cameron stopped, one hand still on the doorknob while the other gripped his keys. It only pissed Asher off more. He estimated the ring held about six different keys in various sizes. Surely one of them fit into the lock on the front door, which meantsurely, Cameron could use the goddamn thing.
Whatever Cameron’s reaction to the less-than-warm welcome, he didn’t show it. “Work,” he answered calmly as he closed the door, then walked past Asher to the kitchen, dropping the keys onto the counter with a muffled jingle. “One of our clients needed a security update which ended up taking longer than I expected.”
A perfectly acceptable answer, but it did little to appease him. “That’s not what I meant, and you damn well know it. Who was at your office today? Why did you hang up on me?”
Sighing, Cameron motioned to the brown paper bags on the table in the breakfast nook. “Do you mind if we eat while I talk about it? I missed lunch today.”
His fair skin seemed paler than usual, and the shadows under his eyes appeared harsh in the fluorescent lighting. Tension tightened his neck and back, apparent in the slight rounding of his shoulders and the stiff way he held himself. Asher had never met anyone more put together than Cameron Stone, but right then, standing there in his wrinkled khakis and rumpled, black button-down, he was a thorough mess.
Seeing him like that finally broke through Asher’s irritation. With an echoing sigh of his own, he relaxed his defensive posture and reached out, hooking two fingers between the buttons on Cameron’s shirt.
“Come here.” His heart and mind settled as he wrapped his arms around Cameron, holding him close to his chest while cradling the back of his head. “I was an ass, and I’m sorry.”
Cameron buried his face in the side of Asher’s neck and nodded, his lips moving up and down the sensitive skin. “I understand why you’re angry. I would have been, too.”
Asher blew out a long breath, releasing with it all his pent-up irritation and worry. “I got sandwiches from that deli you like, and I picked up brownies from Half-Baked.”
Pulling away, Cameron lifted his head and smirked. “You know, I did win a year of free cupcakes. ‘Free’ being the key word.”
The cupcakes at the bakery were amazing. Asher wouldn’t deny that. They weren’t Cameron’s favorite, though.
“I’ll remember that next time.” Ushering him to the table, he waited for Cameron to sit before taking the chair opposite him. “Turkey and bacon on whole grain,” he said, pulling the sandwich from one of the bags, “with Swiss cheese, baby spinach, and honey mayo sauce.” He slid it across the table and waited, but Cameron just stared at it, his eyes soft and a little glassy. “What? Did I screw it up?”
“No.” Cameron shook his head quickly. “It’s exactly right. Thanks for remembering.”
Unsure how to respond, Asher nodded and went to the refrigerator while Cameron unwrapped his dinner. “Water, lemonade, iced tea, or soda,” he called over his shoulder, listing off the drinks on the middle shelf. “Which one?”
“Water’s fine.”
Asher grabbed two bottles and returned to the table. “How is it?”
Cameron bobbed his head while he chewed, making happy little humming noises, which Asher took to be a good sign. Grinning, he unwrapped his own sandwich—roast beef and Provolone on white bread, no condiments, no veggies—picked up one of the triangular halves and took a large bite from the corner.
“Kyle came to my office today.”
He’d suspected as much, but it still made his skin crawl to have Cameron confirm it. “Did he hurt you?” Asher would kill that fuck if he’d laid a hand on Cameron. “Did you call security?”
“No and no.” Cameron worried his bottom lip between his teeth while he picked at the label on his water bottle. “He seemed jittery, really worked up, but he wasn’t violent.”
Asher dropped his sandwich and brushed the crumbs from his fingers as he sat back in his chair. “What did he want?”
“He wanted me to tell you that things have changed. You have three days to get him the money, or he tells everyone what he knows.”
Clenching his fists on the top of his thighs, Asher cursed under his breath. “Did he say what changed?”
Cameron bit his lip again and shook his head.
“What?” he demanded when Cameron continued to stare down at the table.
“Nothing.” Slumping lower in his chair, Cameron rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and smoothed down his collar with the other. “I, uh, I just, well, I kind of think…”
When Cameron didn’t continue, Asher did his best to work out the fragmented thought. “You think I should give him the money?”
Cameron’s head snapped up, and he stared at Asher with wide eyes. “No. I haven’t changed my mind about that.”
