Chapter 10

Halfway through a friendly argument about the cheesiest independent LGBT films, Asher arrived. He didn’t see me at first, but I saw him. He was dressed in snug jeans that lovedhis ass, and a fitted dark purple polo shirt that did lovely things for his chest and arms. He apologized to the group for being tardy, and endured some good-natured teasing.

I needed to stop torturing myself with intimate thoughts of Asher, because nothing was set in stone, and I didn’t know what he wanted. And how would I handle it if we started something, then he called it quits? I didn’t think my heart could take it.

He took a seat next to Hank Lopez, who leaned flirtatiously against him, the rat. For Asher’s part, though, he didn’t seem to take Hank seriously, while I wanted to wring his pretty neck.

“Quit glaring daggers at Lopez,” Laura whispered in my ear, causing me to jump and turn my glare on her. “What?” she retorted, not backing down. “It’s true.”