by Bijou Hunter
Bummed, I stare at the TV and try to accept my relationship with Asher is over. He made his choice in a typical Asher Ferrer way. While I don’t blame him for bailing, I was willing to take the journey despite knowing the eventual destination.
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Asher ❁
Egor Sousa is the closest to a friend I have these days, but I never fool myself into believing we’re more than employer/employee. As my personal assistant, Egor is paid to keep me functioning while providing a barrier between me and the world I can barely tolerate. I have other assistants to handle work issues, but I keep even them at arm’s length.
The building’s security informs Egor as soon as I pull into the tower’s parking garage. He leaves his apartment on the 19th floor and is already at the elevator doors when I exit them.
“Would you like me to start your shower?” the dark-eyed man asks in his Brazilian-accented voice when I walk past him toward my bedroom.
“No.”
“Should I call downstairs for a meal?”
“No.”
“Is there anything you need?”
I stop at the glass doors of my bedroom and turn to face Egor. Ten years my junior, he arrived in the states for education and remained once I hired him. I don’t know if his dreams involve more than reading my mind. We don’t discuss our lives because neither of us has much to share. We work a lot and remain almost entirely in the tower. Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve infected Egor with my neurosis. Would he be dating every weekend if I did the same? I don’t ask, but after tonight, I fear he’ll never know a healthy social life based solely on my inability to climb out of a luxury SUV and join my obsession for a movie.
“Did your date go well?” he asks hours later after I’ve worked out, swam laps, and showered until my skin puckered.
“No.”
“Will you no longer be seeing Miss Voss?”
“I don’t know.”
After standing her up, I ought to have a different answer to his question. Life isn’t simple, though, and I remain gripped by thoughts of Junie. She’s all I want, even if I can’t do more than enjoy her in my head.
Egor finally leaves the penthouse after midnight once he realizes I will not be sleeping any time soon. I’m left alone to pace through the quiet hallways of my home. I walk from one end to the other, stopping to study the photos of Junie in my bedroom, before I begin pacing again.
I don’t know why Junie holds me so tightly in her grip. I doubt she cares to know either, but I’m a man accustomed to indulging myself, and Junie is my new addiction.
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Junie ❁
I stay at Mallory’s until after eleven when she needs to crash for her medical assistant job the next day. Sleep doesn’t come easily for me, and I end up on my couch all night.
By the next afternoon, I’m fully invested in my lazy self-pity while munching on Cinnamon Honey Pretzel Grahams and watching bad cable monster flicks.
“Men suck,” I tell the idiot character whining in the movie. “If you want to survive the giant snakes, you’ll need to save yourself.”
I wish Mallory was around to baby me. She could watch crappy shows and eat sugary foods and help me forget about Asher Ferrer. Instead, she’s working a shift at a local clinic for the extra cash.
I doze off somewhere between Dinoshark and Dinocroc vs. Supergator. CP takes my snoring as an invitation to curl up on my head. When the outside bell rings, I open my eyes and think I’ve slept until after dark.
Pulling my head loose from under CP’s ass, I find sunlight still streaming through the curtains. On my feet quickly—though not steadily—I hurry to the door, thinking Mallory might be locked out.
I reach the outer door of the upstairs apartments and discover Asher on the other side. He’s wearing a black and gray striped polo shirt, and black jeans I suspect are ironed. What a diva!
“Can I help you?” I grumble through the bars.
“I called you earlier, but you wouldn’t answer.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“I want to apologize for the scheduling snafu,” he says, resting his hand against the door. “It couldn’t be helped.”
“You’re lying.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know how I know,” I say, giving a pouty shrug, “but I am absolutely certain you’re lying. My gut even says you were at the theater yesterday. You just decided you didn’t want to go. Rather than being honest with me, you lied.”
“I can’t argue with your gut,” he says, flashing me an almost irresistible smile.
“Does that mean you’re leaving?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Asher stares through the door while internally my lust tussles with my dignity. He’s standing so close and looking so apologetic that my heart starts making excuses. Asher isn’t accustomed to relationships. He’s too accustomed to having his ass kissed. I should have asked where he wanted to go on Friday instead of deciding we should hang at the old theater. As good as the lies sound, I’m not naive enough to believe any of my justifications.
“You and I had fun on that one date, but we both know I was the reason. In fact, you seemed annoyed to be there.”
Asher holds my gaze. “You don’t read me very well.”
“You stood me up. Not because you were busy but because you didn’t want to go out with me.”
“Possibly, I didn’t want to see Robocop 2 or Gone with the Wind.”
“How did you know what was playing?”
“I looked it up.”
Nodding, I know he’s lying because I feel it in my gut whenever he’s utterly full of Häagen-Dazs. We’re past the point where pretending is still fun.
“This thing between us was always based on lies. Wasn’t it, Asher?” I say, emphasizing his name.
Unflinching, he cocks an eyebrow at my accusation. “A man in my position can’t be too careful.”
“Careful or not, we had our fun. Now it’s time to say goodbye.”
“I don’t agree.”
“I don’t care why you ditched me last night, but you need to leave now. Best of luck, Asher.”
I return to my apartment door and refuse to look back. If I catch sight of his dark eyes or see a sad expression on his delicious face, my resolve will crack. I HAVE NEEDS!
So I keep my gaze forward until two doors stand between us and I can pretend to be interested in the trashy movie on the TV. Once Mallory returns home, she’ll trick my depressed heart into believing Asher was just another guy in a sea of look-alikes. No loss in telling him goodbye and only a bright future awaits me.
CH 8
❁ Junie ❁
I’ve been sleep-walking through my job at IT Zen for at least a year. I am not nerdy enough to enjoy the tricky technical cases. My main quality over my coworkers is that I’m capable of speaking human better than they are. In fact, my cubicle is near the front counter because my boss, Ross, feels I’m the least off-putting of his nerd crew. Mostly, I’ve mastered eye contact and never frighten customers by unblinkingly staring at them for too long.
Whatever Ross’s reasoning, I prefer sitting near the front and away from the lunch room where my coworkers talk about video games, pot, and playing video games while smoking pot.
When the door’s bell rings, I don’t go to the front counter. My boss, Ross, is up there, and I’m busy playing Candy Crush on my laptop. When he calls my name, I figure he’s dealing with a customer in need of human traits like eye contact, nodding, and an occasional smile.
Skating to the front, I’m startled to find Asher on the other side of the counter.
“Here she is,” Ross says with too much enthusiasm. “Mr. Ferrer wants to see you.”
I open my mouth to respond until I notice my coworkers peeking out of their cubbies. Skating past Ross, I exit the store and wait for Asher to follow. He does with a casual gait, not at all bothered by his intrusive
behavior.
“Why are you here, Asher T. Ferrer?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“I’d like to take you somewhere right now. I spoke to your employer, and he agreed for you to leave with pay.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Asher steps closer as if to intimidate me. “Do you want me to buy your company to force you to go?”
“Why would that force me?”
“If I own the company, I own you.”
Struggling not to laugh, I stare into his eyes before nodding. “That would be true. I would legally become your property.”
The left corner of Asher’s mouth lifts into a hint of a grin. “You’d be my slave.”
“Yes, and I wouldn’t enjoy that, so I guess I’ll have to go with you today to ensure my freedom.”
“That would be your wisest choice.”
“Where do you want to go?”
Asher suddenly notices the traffic buzzing past the storefront. For a moment, I’m certain he’ll lose the cool vibe he’s selling. Then his gaze hardens, and he says, “It’s a surprise.”
“Will there be food at this secret location? I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”
“You’ll need to trust me.”
“No, I don’t see that happening. I will go, though, because I’m hungry, and I don’t want to work anyway.”
Skating back inside before Asher can respond, I ignore Ross with his apologetic face and head to my desk where I log out from everything and grab my bag. I feel my coworkers staring at me and hear their whispers. If nothing else comes out of today, I will have given the nerds gossip material. Oh, and the endless fanboying they’ll do after seeing Asher Ferrer up close and personal!
I step outside to find the software hotshot with his arms crossed and a miserable expression on his handsome face. Whatever caused him to show up today now gives him pause. I fully expect Asher to pull an excuse out of his fine ass and bail on me again.
“Are you ready?” he asks once his unhappy gaze falls on me.
“You lead, I’ll follow.”
Turning toward his car, Asher opens the door for me and looks down at my skates. I expect him to make a comment about them, but he chooses to remain on my good side.
His black Lexus SUV smells expensive like I’m bathing in leather. I’d feel out of place if I hadn’t grown up with a rich uncle who drove overpriced cars, lived in overpriced homes, and ate freakishly tiny, overpriced food.
Now I’m dating the same kind of man. Well, is it dating when he stood me up—dumping me essentially—only for me to dump him when he showed up the next day? Sure, why not? Dating is whatever I say it is. So screw it, I’m calling this escape from work a romantic adventure.
Asher slides into the SUV, looking sexy and exotic and completely in his element.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks, starting the Lexus.
“Sure.”
Asher punches an address into the GPS and follows the directions. I recognize the street name but can’t picture what’s located on the block. Of course, where we’re going doesn’t matter as much as what lit a fire under Asher’s butt since Friday.
Soon, we pull into the parking lot of Jellico Skating Ring, Arcade & Pizzeria. I remain silent long after Asher turns off the SUV.
“I should have met you at the theater,” he says without looking at me. “This is my penance for upsetting you.”
“Upsetting me? You overestimate your power to make me feel anything.” Asher rolls his eyes, and I smile. “Do you know how to skate?”
“No, but I work out with a trainer three times a week and study Judo. I think I’ve mastered not falling down.”
Smiling at his confidence, I hope he falls on his ass at least once, so we’ll be even for him standing me up.
Twenty minutes later, I wish Asher could remain on his feet for more than a minute.
Kneeling next to him sprawled on the floor, I sigh dramatically. “You might need a new trainer.”
“Funny,” he says, struggling to pull himself up using the half wall.
“Just relax and regain your bearings. No one cares if you sit here.”
Like magic, Customer Service Rep, Timmy, appears over the half wall to announce Asher can’t sit down there.
Waving off the twerp, I tell him, “Go back behind the counter.”
“We have rules.”
“Does your boss know you’re drunk all the time?”
“No, I’m not.”
“You were drunk when I saw you at Whole Foods two weeks ago.”
“So what?”
“It was around this time of the day.”
“So?”
“So I think your boss might want to know that information. I could be wrong, but we won’t know unless I tell him.”
Timmy flips me off and storms back to his counter where he’ll probably sneak booze out of a flask.
“Thanks,” Asher says, resting against the wall. “How well do you know him?”
“We went to school together, and the guy is always at Whole Foods. I think he has the hots for someone who works there.”
“Dietrich doesn’t feel small until you talk about it. Makes me wonder how we never met before.”
“You’re a rich prick from the north side.”
Asher’s smile widens. “I wasn’t always rich.”
“Yeah, but you were probably always a prick.”
“I set that up for you.”
Sharing his smile, I pat his hand. “Thanks, but I’m not convinced I ought to open the doghouse door for you.”
“If my sore ass isn’t enough to win my freedom, what will it take?”
Glancing over his head, I smile. “You can buy me pizza and breadsticks. A pint of root beer wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Anything else?”
“Nachos.”
Asher forces his body into a standing position, wobbles, and nearly ends up on his butt again. “I assume you want to take most of that home in a doggy bag.”
“You assume correctly. Now let’s get your shoes and see how sexy you look eating greasy food.”
Despite his bruised ass and ego, Asher still wears an arrogant smirk as if he owns the damn place. I’m admittedly won over by his roller skating attempt. Why not give the beautiful jerk another shot at making me swoon?
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Asher ❁
Rolling through life is harder than it looks, and I’m relieved to feel solid ground under my feet. Junie skates so effortlessly that I greatly underestimated the skill involved. Back in my shoes, I follow her to the Jellico Pizzeria where a pimply-faced stoner mans the counter. He gives Junie an enthusiastic hello, but she only looks at the menu.
“Is pepperoni okay?” she asks me and wraps her arm around mine.
I realize she’s subtly blowing off the stoner. My hand takes hers possessively, hoping to drive home the point with this smiling schmuck.
“Pepperoni is fine.”
Junie orders our food and even makes an overly dramatic display of reaching for her purse. I hand the stoner a twenty before she can finish her attempt to pay.
“Oh, you’ll get it then,” she says, skating away. “I’ll stock up on napkins.”
When our food shows up at the table, I understand why Junie insists on so many. The pizza glistens with grease even in the dull lighting of the pizzeria.
“Don’t worry about your waistline,” she teases while dumping a large piece on a paper plate. “Lower your standards and embrace the cheap flavors. It’ll make you a fan.”
“Do you eat here often?”
“No. Why would I come to a skating rink when the world is my rink? This is a family joint, but I came here back in the day with Mallory when we were shopping nearby and wanted cheap food.”
Junie takes a bite of the pizza and smiles at me with shiny lips. “Now that’s some mighty fine cheapness.”
I follow her lead and begin eating. She isn’t wrong about the food’s quality
or flavor. As a kid, I would have loved this place. The arcade and inexpensive food would have made it a desirable hangout for Garrett and me.
“What are you thinking about?” Junie asks in classic woman fashion.
“About the pizza.”
Likely sensing my lie, Junie leans over to press her greasy lips to mine. So effortless, her affection startles me. Unable to process how to respond, I nearly don’t react at all. Fortunately, my male hormones switch into gear, and I cup the back of her head to ensure her lips won’t leave mine.
Junie’s fearless against the walls I put up to keep her at bay. She offers me a chance to feel the freedom she embraces every day. To boldly skate in a world that walks.
My lips sting of neglect once Junie sits back in her seat. “I understand now.”
“What?”
“Why you came back after you were ready to walk away?” she says, sipping her root beer. “I’m sexy, and you know it.”
Smirking at her laughter, I’m relieved she doesn’t hold a grudge. Her laid-back nature will come in handy with my mood swings.
“You are sexy. Even in your work gear, you draw every man’s attention. I’m surprised there aren’t plenty of admirers on your all-male staff.”
“Another girl works on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The guys used to flirt with her until her boyfriend showed up and scared them with his tattooed face. Now they come at her like a servant to his master. It’s pretty funny.”
“Any of them flirt with you?”
Junie studies me, and I know she’s considering whether to lie. “Yes.”
“Does he still flirt with you?”
“Likely not after today.”
“But he did last week then?”
Her hazel eyes flicker with an emotion I can’t place. “What does it matter? I’ve worked with him for years and never shown any interest.”
“He persists, though.”
“He aims too high in the dating game. Typical nerd crap.”
“How do you figure?”
Junie leans back in the rickety chair and twirls her breadstick. “Let’s be square here. I’m too good-looking for him. Or he’s not good-looking enough for me. However you want to view the situation, I’m out of his league. Nerds like him think they deserve models or porn stars. That’s not how life works for most people. People choose their mates in the same evolutionary ways we always have, but the guy with a crush on me thinks he’s the exception. They always do rather than finding a woman in their league who actually finds them appealing.”
