“Turns out it wasn’t hard to figure out my worth once properly motivated.”
Asher was trying not to smile. Rhys could see him biting it back. “Self-love is a good thing in moderation.”
Although Rhys knew what he meant, he still snorted at his choice of terminology. “My grandmother said you’d go blind otherwise.”
A low chuckle fell from his perfectly shaped lips. Rhys’ gaze locked onto them. He wanted him. “My nonna says something similar.”
Forcing himself to concentrate on their conversation, Rhys switched his attention back to Asher’s eyes. It didn’t help. “Where are you from originally?” The freaking accent was driving him insane. He never dreamed the sound of someone’s voice could be such a turn-on.
Asher did not shift under his stare even though Rhys felt sure his every desire was etched in the details of his face. “Bolzona.” After a moment, Asher clarified, “Italy.”
“Have dinner with me.”
“Italy makes you hungry?” Laughter sounded heavy in his voice. Rhys couldn’t bring himself to smile.
He shook his head. “You make me hungry.” Asher’s lips parted in surprise. He’d not expected the open admission. Rhys could see it. Good. Rhys wanted him off-kilter. It was hard to hang onto control while attempting to hold onto balance. Asher glanced at the club’s entrance and Rhys could feel his indecision. “Just dinner. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Asher’s mouth turned up in one corner. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a card and pen. Scratching out a set of numbers on the back, Asher handed it over. “If you know where Cal’s Grill is, I suppose I could be ready by seven.”
After scanning the phone number, Rhys tucked the card into the pocket of his jeans while doing his best to hide the triumph rushing through his veins. “Then that’s what time I’ll meet you there.”
Asher dipped his chin in agreement. “I’ve given you the number to my mobile in case you change your mind. Otherwise, I’ll see you at seven. Ciao.”
Rhys watched him until he disappeared inside. Baby steps. He would take one tiny step at a time until Asher was left wondering when he’d been swept away.
* * * * *
Cal’s Grill acted as neutral ground for Asher. Quiet enough for conversation while too brightly lit for intimacy, it was the perfect location to get to know someone. The man sitting across from him intrigued him. Rhys Collier, while rough around the edges, seemed strangely vulnerable at times. Asher wanted to know more. Wide shoulders, perfectly angled face and sweet brown eyes were only a few of Rhys’ many attributes. Asher was rarely fascinated by anything. Rhys didn’t fidget or chatter nervously. Everything about Rhys screamed cool confidence. Tilting his head back, Rhys’ gaze moved over the restaurant décor. While he seemed absorbed by the gigantic bull’s head hanging above the nearby bar, Asher couldn’t look away from the skin peeking out at him from the open collar of Rhys’ shirt. He’d tasted that exact spot. The air felt too thick. It had been delicious. He wanted to feel it against his tongue again. Rhys’ gaze met his and Asher lifted his glass to his lips to hide his reactions to the man.
If Rhys’ guessed at his thoughts, he didn’t show it. Instead, he chose to break the ice. “What do you do for a living?”
Thankful for a topic, Asher jumped on it. “I’m a solicitor.”
“It’s strangely fitting you should be an attorney.”
Asher didn’t know what Rhys’ comment was supposed to mean. He let it go. “What about you?”
“I’m a professional fighter.”
It took every ounce of self-control within Asher to keep from repeating Rhys’ response. He wasn’t a bit surprised to learn he used his physical strength against others for a living. Power needed an outlet. Rhys had it in droves.
“Pugilist?”
“It’s a bit similar, I suppose,” he agreed. Shaking his head, he added. “No, not really.”
A surprised laugh slipped from Asher over his answer. “Which is it?”
“It’s not. I’m an MMA fighter. It’s a mixture of several fighting styles, such as Judo and Muay Thai. Basically, it’s any combination deemed effective to win in a match.”
“Ah. I have heard of it. They do have a training center at Grid Iron for such a thing, but I did not sign up for the benefit. I can hardly appear in court with bruises covering my face. Do you enjoy this line of work?”
“If I say ‘yes’ does it make me sound violent?”
Did it? Asher hadn’t thought about it before asking the question. He was simply making conversation.
“I don’t see why it would,” he answered after a moment. “If you have worked hard toward this goal and are proud of your accomplishments, then you shouldn’t care what I think.”
Rhys nodded, appearing thoughtful. “I am proud. My father was Middleweight Champion. It has cast certain aspirations on all his sons.”
“You, of course, have worked to prove you are a man of worth without his name, I’m sure.”
A flash of surprise crossed Rhys’ features before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. “Of course,” he agreed. “Not many people realize it, though.”
Asher imagined, when it came to Rhys, they didn’t. “People will see as much or as little as you allow.”
Rhys’ lips turned up in one corner, while his gaze dropped to Asher’s mouth. It was a ploy. Even as Asher recognized the move for the defense mechanism it was, he still wanted to drag Rhys to the floor.
“Are you saying I’ve exposed myself to you?”
Two could play at this game. Asher intentionally relaxed his pose, slipping down an inch in his chair. He raked Rhys’ body with his gaze, making sure he saw every ounce of desire he felt for the man.
“Yes. As I recall it, you did. It was delicious.”
He waited until Rhys’ eyes glazed over before snatching his heated look away. Returning to his earlier serious tone, Asher added, “But as it happens, I understand because my life has been similar to yours. My papa’s services are much sought after in Bolzona. This career path was chosen for me before I was born. There was never a chance I would do anything else, and I exceeded all expectations. With one minor twist to the story, that is. After law school and two years of training at his firm, I passed Esame di Stato, um, it is Italy’s equivalent of the bar exam. It allows me to practice law internationally. Someone else may have planned my life, but I did not want to give all of it away.”
By the time he’d finished with his story, Rhys had sat forward with both elbows leaning on the table, seeming completely focused on Asher’s every word. A luminous smile twisted his lips.
“I’m beyond curious to know how they reacted when you chose to practice here.”
A chuckle slipped from Asher’s lips. “It was priceless. My parents were horrified but could think of no argument against it. After all, I was doing as expected even if I wasn’t. I know they wanted me to work at the family law firm, living my father’s life exactly as he had. I could not do it.”
A picture of the life he’d avoided played out across his mind. Asher suppressed a shudder. Damn, he’d avoided a nightmare. Dragging himself away from the place in his head, he focused on Rhys instead.
“What about you? What twist did you weave into your life’s story to avoid a pre-written fate?”
Rhys, who had been taking a sip from his water glass, almost choked on his drink at the question. It took Asher a moment to realize he was snickering.
“I became the current middleweight champion.”
Asher pressed his lips together attempting to hide his mirth. “There you go. No one can say you did not earn it now.”
The food appeared and disappeared without any real notice. By the time the check came, Asher made an important discovery. He was completely at ease. They were equally matched on several levels. Their time together passed too quickly and Asher didn’t want it to end. Unfortunately, as they stood to leave, Rhys’ demeanor shifted. His voice and eyes became seductive. The
charmer made an appearance. He knew Rhys’ game and did not intend to play by his rules. It was a chess match. Advance and retreat. Asher was not immune, but he equally was not a simpleton. The Rhys he had met inside Affinity had been the genuine version. His desire had been real. Asher refused to settle for less. When Rhys brought arousal without manipulation, Asher would ruin him for all others, but until then…
“Spend the night with me.”
Asher scoffed at the soft demand. “You said dinner and nothing more. I agreed. We’ve had dinner now it is time for the nothing-more stage.”
Rhys’ eyes shone with humor. “You’re right. I did say as much. I wouldn’t want to go back on my word.”
The warm night air slapped Asher in the face. Pausing to inhale the heavy scent of summertime into his lungs, he barely restrained himself from tilting his head back to stare at the sky. Asher wasn’t much of a dreamer. Since fantasizing had not been penciled into his schedule as a child, he’d not developed much of a taste for it. However, lately, he’d become dissatisfied with his lot. Not tonight. He knew the reason was standing so close to his side he could feel the heat from his skin. Shit.
“My car is over there,” Asher said, with a nod in its direction. Best he moved along before he gave in.
“Can I, at the very least, walk you to your car?”
The pitfalls were minimal, he decided. “If you’d like.” Then he made a mistake. He glanced over at Rhys.
“I would.” Those two words sounded sexy as sin falling from Rhys’ perfect lips. A shiver ran down Asher’s spine. His feet began moving toward his car before the rest of him could do something he’d regret. Rhys didn’t exactly walk him to his vehicle. It was more he walked behind him to his car.
The moment they reached the door, Asher did his best to cut off anything further. “We are here, so this is good night.”
Asher had one hand on the door and one foot inside when Rhys stopped him. “What are you doing Friday night?”
Asher slid behind the wheel while running through his schedule in his mind. “I’m due in court that morning, but I’m free from midafternoon on.”
“Would you like to go see a fight with me? My older brother, Knox, has an underground match. It is unsanctioned so it’s not exactly the same as what I do, but I’d love to take you to see it. Plus, you can meet my brother afterward.”
Asher was quick to agree. The amount of pride Rhys had shown over his work made him curious to see it in action. “I’d love to.”
Taking out the card Asher had given him earlier in the day, Rhys squatted down beside him. He dialed the number written on the back. Asher felt his phone buzz inside his pocket. “There. Now, you have my number too. Text your address to me and I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Sounds good. I suppose I should say ciao.”
Rhys made a move, as if to stand, but instead he continued forward until Asher found his head against the headrest. His mouth found Asher’s. The darkened corner of the parking lot gave Asher the sense of seclusion in a crowd. Losing himself, he buried his fingers in Rhys’ hair, tugging him closer. A clicking noise broke through the growing haze of lust. It took Asher a moment to realize Rhys had buckled his seat belt. Pulling away, Rhys cupped his cheek while holding his gaze.
“Be careful, and in case I forgot to say so, you look hot as hell tonight.”
Without waiting for a response, Rhys closed the door. Asher watched him walk away, accepting the inevitable. He was totally fucked.
* * * * *
He made it exactly ten hours and eighteen minutes before giving in to temptation.
Thank you for dinner.
With the text sent, Asher spent five solid minutes staring at the face of his phone watching for any response. When it didn’t come, he wanted to kick himself for being an idiot. It’s not as if he hadn’t known he was no more than a passing fancy. Best it ended now. By the time he made it home and settled in for the night, he’d almost convinced himself it was true. Every noise he heard, from the sound of his keys hitting the cherry wood table by the front door to his shower firing to life, shone a bright light on how empty his life had become. For years, he’d never noticed anything lacking. Lately things had changed. With his entire family in Bolzona and his career eating up a majority of his time, Asher did not have color in his life. He talked all day yet spoke to no one.
With his hair still dripping from the shower, he passed by the stainless steel refrigerator without bothering to eat. It was more than likely that he needed a keeper. Sometimes he simply did not eat or sleep as he should. Most times, it seemed pointless. Throwing himself across the couch, he stared up at the plain white ceiling. A buzzing noise cut through his depressing thoughts. Asher glanced around attempting to see where the sound came from. Finally, he spotted his phone trying to crawl its way off the table. With a heavy sigh, he went after it before returning to his previous position. Everything cleared away the moment he read the words waiting for him.
So, funny story, I was watching this documentary on coal mining—don’t ask. I’m boring. Anyhow, a thought hit me. Does anyone ever call you Ash, or are you always Asher?
Rhys was at home watching TV. He could be anywhere and with anyone, but he chose to stay home. It was ridiculous for Asher to hope it meant anything. Hope never listened to him.
My younger sister is the only person who calls me by that name, so I do not hear it often. Here, I am always the proper Asher. His finger hovered over the send button. At the last moment, he added, What does one wear for an evening of coal mining programs?
Once the text went out, Asher stared at the ceiling tapping the phone against his lips. Surely, his question had been a harmless one. Rhys didn’t have to answer. He wasn’t chasing him…much. The phone vibrated. Asher nearly lost an eye when he sent the mobile flying in surprise and it landed on his face.
“Dumbass,” Asher muttered. Rubbing his cheekbone, he silently thanked whoever watched over him that he’d been alone for the incident. He nearly dropped it again when he opened the message. A picture of Rhys from the rib cage up appeared on the screen. A very bare and delicious chest stared out at him. Asher’s mouth watered. Lingering on the spot below Rhys’ chin a bit longer than necessary, Asher ran his gaze over Rhys’ face. A sound emerged from the back of his throat before he could stop it. Those eyes and that smirk, damn, he had it bad. The phone shook again. With a sigh of regret, Asher scrolled past the picture to read the incoming text.
Sorry. It was an impulse. Since you haven’t answered, I’m going to assume I crossed the line.
How long had he been staring at Rhys’ picture? Before he could make things worse, Asher typed out a quick reply.
I’m the one who should apologize. The sight of your gorgeous form caused my fingers to go numb—in a good way, and I dropped the cellular…on my face.
Asher wanted to hit himself again. What sort of idiot confessed to such a thing? By the time his phone alerted him to another incoming message, he’d convinced himself Rhys would decide he was too stupid to waste any more time on.
You’re in bed then? Damn. I’m missing it.
Not really. I’m on the couch.
My picture didn’t cost you an eye, did it?
The corners of Asher’s mouth lifted. How odd they’d had the same thought. They are both intact, although one might turn black by tomorrow. How ever will I explain such a thing?
Let me see.
Asher snapped a quick shot of his face and sent it off.
As an expert on black eyes, I can assure you it will be fine by morning. I should confess. That was a trick. I only wanted a picture of those sexy eyes.
Should I drop my mobile lower next time? He really did slap his hand across his forehead after hitting “send” this time. One day soon someone would invent an unsend button, but today wasn’t the day. Pity.
With a violent shake, a set of images appeared across the screen of his phone. His eyebrows hit his hairline and he nearly swallowed his tongue.
Settling farther into the cushions, Asher scrolled happily through each one. It was going to be a long, fun night.
* * * * *
A chime cut into the song blaring through the headphones. Rhys pulled his phone out of the treadmill’s cup holder. Normally, he would have left the message go until he finished his five-mile run. Before Asher. Spotting the name he’d been hoping to see, he shut down his machine. Everything else could wait.
I passed a woman on the street carrying a Mocha Mike’s cup. It occurred to me, I could trip her. She wouldn’t be much of a challenge. I could simply take it from her. Then I had a better idea. Would you like to meet me there for a cup?
An image of Asher tripping some hapless woman flashed across his mind. Rhys chuckled. A couple of men who were lifting weights nearby paused to look over at him. He ignored them.
Just tell me when.
He’d not finished even a quarter of his usual workout, but he didn’t care.
Twenty minutes?
Checking the time, Rhys decided he could pull it off if he ignored every posted speed limit.
I’m there.
He made it in eighteen. At a table near the back of the eclectic coffee shop, Asher stared down at a neatly folder paper. Two women nearby watched him, wearing matching hungry expressions. Rhys felt their pain. He was near to starving for the man as well. The cuffs of Asher’s blue dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms. Rhys couldn’t see the lower half of his body, but he knew from experience it was perfection. Halfway to the table, Asher finally seemed to notice his approach. Rhys almost missed a step. As if a light switch had been thrown, Rhys was back inside Affinity seeing Asher for the first time. Something about the man punched him the gut. He wanted more.
Choosing the chair across from him, Rhys motioned toward his cup. “I hope you paid for that?” A wicked smile pulled at Asher’s lips, drawing his gaze. The images—now saved to his phone—taunted Rhys.
Unequaled Page 6
