Page 113 of The Best Men
Cheesy it is, then. For once, I’m going to just say all the things I’m feeling. If I don’t do it now, I never will.
I can’t lose him because I’m afraid to put myself out there.
If he turns me down, he turns me down. It will suck, but I’ll get over it.
Like I told Hannah last night . . . life happens, and you deal. There are no guarantees.
But if I took a chance for my list, I can take a chance for what’s beyond all the rows, columns, and body parts.
I tuck in my shirt and plan my speech again.It turns out I have a posh fucker kink, Asher.Let’s do this right.
37
POKER FACE
ASHER
Alone in the bathroom, I read Lucy’s texts. And I can’t believe what she’s telling me.
There’s no fuck-up. Quite the opposite?FLI wants to give me that job that I wassureI’d already lost. But now it’s mine. If I want it. Although the details have changed.
I crank on the shower and try to process this development.
The job is still photographing football players. It’s still the sport I love. But it’s not a month’s worth of branding work. They want ayear.
It’s a huge opportunity and one Ishouldbe thrilled about. Hell, I figured I’d be dancing a jig.
But I’m not. Maybe it’s because the details changed. Or maybe it’s something else.
Something bigger.
I shower in a state of numbness, briefly surprised at how quick it is to rinse out my short hair. And as I towel off afterwards, I still can’t believe I got this plum job—and that it starts in five days. And Lucy says they want to hear from me ASAP.
That’s just so typical of FLI. In the world of football, they’re all powerful. Every day, they change players' lives with a single phone call. And photographers’, I suppose.
Today it’s my turn.
But first, a wedding. I try to shrug off my surprise ?I did, after all, pitch FLI on the whole idea? as I head to my bedroom. My crisp new shirt waits for me on a hanger. As I get dressed, my mind ricochets like a pinball from one life-changing event to another. Flip is marrying the woman of his dreams in just over an hour. The wedding guests include a number of our prep school friends that I haven’t seen in years. They’re descending on Star Island imminently.
I need to focus on today’s events. I put on socks, and step into the new trousers. Work can wait.
Except it can’t.
Because of Mark.
He enters the room carrying my bow tie. And a serious look in his eyes. “Hey,” he says, and there’s a lot of weight in that one word.
“Hey.” My throat is tight all of a sudden. He looks so good in the gray slacks, and the white shirt, and that steely blue jacket. The colors that I put together that afternoon only . . .
That was less than aweekago.
But everything has changed in just a few days. Now, when I look into his cool blue eyes, I see so many things that I didn’t see before. Passion. Comfort. Humor.
Me.
Fuck.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks.
