Page 94 of Flirt
Cameron bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his snickers, even as his face burst into flames of embarrassment. To each their own, and he’d never interfere with a good time, but the dude was seriously over the top.
Flustered, he hurried out of the bathroom, not paying attention to where he was going until Newton’s First Law brought him to an abrupt stop. He stumbled a couple of steps, barely managing to find his balance before getting up close and personal with the floor.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he babbled, turning to face the person he’d nearly bulldozed. “I wasn’t paying atten—Richard?” The blood drained from his face, and he took a hasty step in retreat.
Dressed as casually as Cameron had ever seen him in khakis and a short-sleeved, silk button-down in a rich shade of plum, Richard smoothed his dark hair back from his brow.
“Hello, Cameron.” His gazed traveled from Cameron’s face, down his neck, over his chest, and lingered on his groin before making a reverse trek. “You look good.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Richard glanced over his shoulder, then back. “Bachelor party.”
Cameron didn’t ask whose. He knew all of Richard’s friends, and he didn’t like any of them. “I have to go.”
Before he could walk away, Richard grabbed him by the elbow, digging his fingers in and flexing his arm to keep Cameron in place. “Wait. It doesn’t have to be like this. Let me buy you a drink.”
“No.” Cameron shook his head. Even if he wasn’t with Asher now, he wouldn’t go back down that road. “Take your hand off me.”
“Come on, Cameron. We were good together once. We could be again.” He sidled a little closer and leaned in to brush his lips over Cameron’s ear. “I’ve missed you.”
Cameron’s upper lip curled, and anger flashed hot over his skin. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you fucked your receptionist over your desk.” He tried to jerk his arm away, but Richard only tightened his grip. “Let me go.”
“One drink,” he insisted. “At least let me apologize. Let me explain.”
“Well, this looks cozy.”
Cameron’s blood ran cold, and panic flared in his stomach. “Asher.”
He hadn’t done anything wrong, and the scene wasn’t what it looked like. If Asher would just give him a chance, he could explain. On the other hand, he probably wouldn’t have waited around for excuses if he’d caught his boyfriend in such a compromising position.
“Who are you?” Richard straightened, but he didn’t release Cameron’s arm.
Asher folded his arms over his chest, stretching the fabric of his black T-shirt, and nodded at Cameron. “I’m his. Who the fuck are you?”
Okay, that’s fucking hot.
“This is Richard,” Cameron said, using the guy’s distraction to pull away from him.
“Oh, you’re Dick.” Asher’s grin was purely predatory. “Well, you certainly live up to your reputation.” His arm came around Cameron, tucking him against his side. “We were just leaving.”
Richard seemed struck dumb, but as Asher backed them away, he said, “I’ll call you.”
“No,” Asher said conversationally, almost friendly. “Not a good idea, friend.”
Shaking off his surprise, Richard pulled himself up to his full height—still a couple of inches shorter than Asher—and glared. “I was talking to Cameron.”
“I know who you were talking to, but I’m telling you…don’t. I probably should thank you for fucking up so spectacularly, but instead, I’ll just say goodnight.” He squeezed Cameron’s shoulder and bent to kiss his temple. “Say goodnight, sweetheart.”
Still a lot tipsy, Cameron burst into giggles. It was the same thing he’d said the night Asher had rescued him from Scott. Feeling less like he might pass out, he gave Richard a little wave and a bright smile.
“Goodnight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Asher wanted to takeCameron somewhere safe, then go back and break every bone in Richard’s round, smug face. “What a fucking douchebag.”
“I agree.”
