by Baylin Crow
“Fuck yeah!” I yelled.
Claire was jumping so much she nearly knocked me into Mags when she turned around and grabbed me. She said something and I had to lean in to hear her.
“What?”
“That was fucking hot!” she screamed.
I rolled my eyes. “Your boyfriend is literally right there.” I couldn’t deny the surge of pride that filled me when Asher won. It was fucking hot.
She shrugged, and we both immediately sought out Asher.
He smiled and raised his arms, amping up the crowd. His eyes scanned the section I was seated in, and when his eyes caught mine, his grin grew wide and pure joy lit up his face. This was what he’d been training so hard to do. He should have been proud as hell. I definitely was.
Looking tired and sweaty, he was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, but I could deal with him not ever getting hurt again. I’d prefer that actually.
I tried to keep my expression politely happy, but on the inside, I couldn’t wait to get him home and congratulate him properly. With my tongue. As if sensing my thoughts, he lost his smile and narrowed his eyes.
The announcer snagged Asher’s attention when he raised Asher’s arm and pronounced him the light heavyweight champion. The crowd went nuts, chanting Asher’s name. I screamed right along with everyone else.
Asher’s manager, Jerry, was next to Mags, typing furiously onto his tablet. They, along with me, gaped at Asher as he left the cage and bounded toward us. I had no idea what he was doing. Maggie who was sitting next to me gasped when he stopped in front of me, grabbed a fistful of my shirt, and tugged until I landed straight into his arms. Without warning, he crushed his lips against mine, forcing my mouth open. The moment I tasted him, I couldn’t control the low moan that escaped me. He invaded my lips with his tongue and kissed me deep. I fucking melted for this man. My arm went around his sweat-soaked shoulders as I met him greedily.
Reality intruded when the uproar crescendoing after Asher’s win dropped so low you could actually hear someone speak. I pulled away and scanned the crowd before glancing back at Asher.
“People are looking,” I said as I searched his eyes.
He laughed loud and leaned forward. “Uh, yeah, they are,” his raspy voice whispered in my ear. “Let them look.” He kissed me again.
His manager started grumbling about everything going to hell in a hand basket. Asher didn’t seem to care. He laughed as he continued to peer into my eyes.
“You know what you just did right?” I asked, cautiously, wondering if he was always a little reckless after a fight, hopped up on adrenaline from his victory.
His grin widened if possible, and he gazed around the room. Everyone gawked. Some were silent, standing slack-jawed, while more were vocal. A chorus of whoops and hollers echoed against the walls, and then someone started screaming, “Kiss him again.” The chant gained some traction as others joined in.
“I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m finally doing what feels right. Now, you heard the people.” His lips were more demanding this time, and the noise level rose again.
When we broke apart, I noticed several cell phones recording us and would bet good money the footage was already circulating. There was no going back on it now. A few remarks were thrown at us as some of the unhappier people voiced their opinions. I’d never been subjected to those words, so they stung a little, and Asher’s shoulders stiffened.
“Come with me.” He gripped my hand, and I followed him, along with Mags, Claire, and Alex as we made our way to a doorway, followed by a long hallway.
He stopped suddenly, holding me in place.
“You can go ahead. Just follow Pete,” he told the rest of our group. No one hesitated, except for Mags.
She gave me a hug. “I’m so proud of you, honey. That took some courage. You too, Asher.” She turned and gave Asher a hug too. “You’re all sweaty,” she cried when he wrapped his arms around her.
“Of course, he’s sweaty, Aunt Maggie,” I told her. I leaned into Asher’s space so only he could hear. “I prefer him that way.”
He groaned. “You better stop or people are going to see a lot more than me kissing you.”
Mags excused herself, and I met Asher’s eyes. He gazed at me with such sincerity I wasn’t sure what he was about to do.
“I’ve been an idiot,” he began. “I love you, Drew. You’re it for me, and I’m so glad you gave me a second chance. Even though I didn’t deserve it. I spent the last month trying to convince myself that this wasn’t going to be serious, but it was serious ever since the night of that storm. You shouldn’t have had to wait for me to tell you because I’ve known for a while. That’s it. I love you and I’m done hiding. If it costs me this,” he said, gesturing behind him toward the still-packed arena, “it doesn’t matter, because you’re the one thing I want most.”
“Well, it’s too late to say I won’t let you do that, seeing as how you just made out with me on national TV.”
He appeared so carefree as he chuckled.
“I meant what I said, if we don’t get out of here soon, they are going to see a lot more than that.” He wiggled his brows, and I grabbed his hand to hurry him up. His deep chuckle followed behind me.
EPILOGUE
DREW
ONE YEAR LATER
I smiled as I read the article out loud to Asher for probably the hundredth time since it had come out a year ago. The article hadn’t been the only thing to come out last year either. I’d been shocked at the time, but so happy we could live in the open.
Asher Ramsey Confirms Relationship with Drew Everly
Light Heavyweight Champion, Asher Ramsey, is officially off the market, ladies. The womanizing playboy hasn’t only reformed his ways but went on the record last evening regarding his relationship with Drew Everly. To say we and the rest of the world were shocked two weeks ago when Ramsey came out as a gay man in a bold way after defending his title is an understatement. When asked about his sexual preferences and his past with women, he left us with one quick reply. “I won’t comment on the past, but I will tell you my future and he’s sitting right there.” Ramsey pointed to the side of the stage where his boyfriend was watching the interview take place. The couple were clearly enamored with each other. When asked what was next for him, he said that he was always gearing up for the next fight but couldn’t give us the details. Ramsey also mentioned his plans to join trainer, Pete Dawson, in developing new talent. His boyfriend, Drew, is a tattoo artist and we have to say we love the new ink Asher was sporting during the interview. He confirmed the design was the work of Everly, and now we just want to know what it means. Drew Everly is a one very lucky man. On behalf of Rumor Has It Magazine we want to wish the happy couple well. Get the full interview by visiting our website.
“That article pisses me off. I don’t know why you keep reading it,” Asher’s raspy voice whispered in my ear from beside me as we lay twisted together under black silk sheets in the master bedroom, Asher’s bedroom. Well, our bedroom now. He’d moved me in with him the morning after we’d spent the night in my uncle’s guesthouse and had sex for the first time. The spare room had become an art studio of sorts, although I still preferred the terrace to sit and draw.
“I know.” I laughed and closed the book where I’d glued the article. It was not a scrapbook. “You’ve said it enough times.”
“I should have demanded they fix it. I’m clearly the lucky one.” He pressed himself against my back, letting me feel how hard he was.
“Who knew you’d turn into such a sap?” I teased at the same time I wiggled back against him.
He pulled back and swatted my naked ass. “A sap, huh?”
“If I say yes, will you do that again?” I smiled over my shoulder.
He groaned and wrapped me in his strong arms. “Don’t tempt me. We have plans today.”
We decided the day we were out publicly as a couple was the beginning of our relationship. Though the truth was we’d had a relati
onship that had been growing from the start. Today was our anniversary.
I turned in his arms and kissed his lips. “I love you now just as much as I did a year ago when you chose me, you know? More, if possible.” I ran my finger over the tattoo I’d designed after he’d come out. There was a lot of backlash at the time, and he struggled with the media’s attention. I wanted to create something that would remind him of what and who mattered and deliver a message to those who didn’t. A heavily shaded chain wrapped around his bicep, the lock, determined to keep it closed, shattered to pieces. The moment I allowed him to see the finished product, he’d dragged me to the truck, even though I had a client waiting, and had driven like a madman in his hurry to get home where he’d taken me straight to bed. Winning.
“I should hope so, since you’re sort of my everything.” His sexy smile drove me crazy. “Now, get up and go get ready.”
I raised a brow. “Ready for what exactly?” Our dinner plans were hours away.
“I repeat, we have plans.” He smacked my ass again and then crawled out of bed. I missed his body heat immediately.
I put aside the little scrapbook, although I’d never call it that out loud. It was more a collection of things I found important. I had the magazine article, drawings I’d done of Asher—some I’d done of him nude were in a private collection—pictures of the two of us along with friends and family. The official paper from my record being sealed was in there too. Receiving that letter had been like closing a chapter on a part of my life I was ready to let go, but it also marked the beginning of a new one.
Mags, Pete, and Claire became Asher’s family too after we came out as a couple. Mags had been over the moon. The relationship between my uncle and me had improved as well. He believed me about my arrest and had apologized for making me feel like I couldn’t tell him the truth. It was on both of us, but things were better now. I had a real family.
“I’m going to go take a shower. Want to save water?” Asher gave me a wicked smile.
I groaned and scrambled off the mattress. “Yes, please.”
Thirty minutes and two orgasms later, I finally got ready. For what, I didn’t know. The jerk wouldn’t tell me.
“Are you seriously not going to tell me where we’re going?” I complained as we got on the elevator.
“For the tenth time, no.” He shook his head and pressed the button for the lobby. “Just trust me, okay?”
I couldn’t lie, I was excited. I still wasn’t used to surprises, parties…any of those things. My birthday, a few weeks ago, had been nothing like the one before that. Asher had made it up to me by taking me on a four-day vacation in the Bahamas.
I still did tattoos with Blake and had built up a steady clientele along with referrals. I mostly worked on portraits, and when I wasn’t, I was still sketching.
“Can I at least drive?” I asked when we were in the lobby.
“Negative. The only time I’ve actually been scared, other than when I almost lost you, was climbing into the passenger seat of your car. If I’d known you had a tendency to have a lead foot at all the wrong times, I would have pushed for a fucking minivan instead of a sports car.”
“You exaggerate. I’ve only had one ticket, thank you.”
“Still, no.” He wrapped his arm around my waist as I grumbled while we waited for his truck to be brought around.
Once in the truck, Asher turned on the radio and I couldn’t help but think back to the night when my life changed forever. When Asher had come out in a very public way, dragging me along for the ride, I couldn’t have been more surprised. The way he stared into my eyes with so many people as witnesses, giving zero fucks about their opinions, I knew without a doubt he chose me over everything and everyone. I chose him right back. And would every single time.
“What are you thinking about over there all moon-eyed?” Asher interrupted my thoughts.
“Shut up.” I grinned. “I was thinking about that fight.”
“Again?” His deep chuckle never failed to bring a smile to my face and fill me with warmth.
“Can’t help it.” I shrugged, unapologetic.
“I love you, Drew. I’ll never regret any of that.” His eyes were so serious when he glanced at me.
I loved this man. So damn much. I leaned over the console and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Now tell me what the surprise is.”
His lips quirked up on one side, and he shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.
Ten minutes later, we were pulling onto a tree-lined street that entered an upper class neighborhood with large yards that kept the homes from sitting on top of each other. The houses mirrored structures built a century ago but had all been renovated. We passed a pond and a park with massive trees and greenery that dotted the grounds. I rolled down my window, because downtown didn’t have places like this. The fresh air smelled of trees and nature. Refreshing.
I loved it, but I wasn’t sure why he was bringing us there. We didn’t know anyone who lived around here that I was aware of.
When Asher slowed the truck and turned into a driveway of a large, two-story home, I noticed the “For Sale” sign and glanced at him, waiting for an explanation.
“Do you like it?” he asked, watching me intently.
I gazed back out at the home in front of us—a white house with an oversized red front door and black shutters. It stuck out because most of the other homes were painted in blues, greens, and yellows. I actually loved this one. It reminded me of the training center where we met, which may be weird but it did.
The large wrap-around porch was inviting. I could easily see myself sitting on a bench or swing while drawing. The neighborhood seemed quiet too. As we sat there, a man jogging with his dog on a leash crossed behind us heading in the direction of the park we’d passed. A bird’s chirp, a lawnmower somewhere in the distance and the breeze whipping through the large tree branches were the only sounds around. It was definitely different than our downtown apartment.
“It’s amazing, but why are we here?” I didn’t want to get the wrong idea, but it was too late for that. Hope fluttered in my stomach as I waited.
“Because if you like it, I want it to be our home. I thought it’d be nice to set down some roots somewhere that was a little less busy. It’s still close enough for both of us to work and go out when we want, but then we could come back home to some peace and quiet. It’s just a thought.” He reached over and grabbed my hands, pulling me halfway across the console to kiss me softly. I sighed into his mouth and he laughed. “Well?”
“Can we see inside?” I asked excitedly.
His face lit up and his eyes sparkled. “The Realtor is on her way.”
“Of course, she is.” I laughed and leaned into him again. “This is what you want?”
“I want you to be happy.” His kiss landed on my nose.
“I am happy. You don’t have to do this. Although, it does sound really nice.” My smile stretched wide enough that my cheeks hurt as I imagined living there with Asher.
He chuckled. “Well, there she is.” A white SUV pulled in behind us. “Let’s go take a look.” And then he grabbed my hand as he greeted the woman who met us in the driveway.
My answer was yes. How amazing the house was didn’t matter. I’d live anywhere as long as it was with Asher. He was the only thing I needed.
I may not have come from much, but in the end, I’d wound up with everything.
THE END
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you for reading Drew and Asher’s story! This was actually the first book I wrote in the MM Romance genre but Scar made it to publication first. I ended up going back and finishing what I started with this one, and I’m glad I finally get to share their story. =)
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OTHER TITLES BY BAYLIN CROW
SCAR on Amazon
A closed-off bartender. An outgoing college athlete. Sparks fly…but will anyone win this battle of wills?
BEARD: Oh, I want him. But it’s too risky.
My past isn’t pretty. After a disastrous incident nearly destroyed me, I rose from the ashes to reclaim my life. I may not be happy, but I’m comfortable. And I’ll never let anyone get close enough to hurt me again. But then six feet of pure temptation walks through the doors of my bar…repeatedly…for a year. I’ve done a good job of ignoring the sexy college soccer player, until the night his teammates leave him stranded and intoxicated, forcing me to offer him shelter. Now I can’t shake the persistent man.
SOCCER: I play to win. But he’s more than a game.
As a forward, it’s my job to score points. Too bad I haven’t been able to do that with the local green-eyed bartender. I haven’t been subtle about my attraction, and Beard’s interest shines through his gruff exterior…whether he chooses to admit it or not. When my well-meaning teammates intervene, using questionable tactics, and leave me at Beard’s mercy, it’s time to make my move.
When past hurts threaten to destroy their chance at happiness, is it time for Soccer to push forward to reach his ultimate goal…or has he made a play destined for mutual heartbreak?
