Page 26 of The Influencer

“Sure,” he says when he sees the restaurant I picked. “I’ll take the roast beef sandwich in a bowl. No onions.”

I don’t tell him, but that’s my exact order, too. So I guess we have one thing in common. Roast beef and carb consciousness.

I place our order and begin sorting through his garments, dividing them into tops, bottoms, and other. “Other” being things like boas, suspenders, pink mesh body suits, enormous overalls, and jock straps in every damn color of the rainbow, including neon. Actually—especially neon.

“So…” he says, “How are things at home?”

I glance carefully up at him, and he’s giving me short side glances while he wraps a ring light in bubble wrap and tape. “The same,” I say.

“Can I ask you something, Asher?”

“Sure,” I sigh. “Why not?”

“Are you ever going to marry her?”

I get back to my task of folding tiny tees. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“So, it’s not a hard pass.”

I scowl, wishing I could change the subject, but I’ve got nothing but time, so I figure might as well offload some of my angst, at least for the moment. “She’s the only serious girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

“And?” he asks.

“And we’ve been together a long time.”

“So…”

“So, I would feel really bad if I fucked things up for no reason.”

He tapes up a box with a packaging roller. “Did you hate dating or something?”

“I never really went on many dates.”

“Why?” he asks, and I’m slightly flattered that he sounds surprised.

“I didn’t always look like this?” I say, questioning my own answer.

He gives me a swift once-over. “Must be hard, having a brother like Adam Haas. So perfect all the time.”

“Adam’s not perfect. Not by a lot, but yeah. It was hard—is sometimes hard—having a brother like that.” My voice trails off, the sentence ending in a whisper.

Jade drags an empty box over and sits facing me, legs crossed campfire style as he reaches for some clothes to fold. “I’m assuming he’s your best friend, being your twin and everything.”

“Good guess,” I tell him. “But when Sawyer came along…”

“What about it?”

“They’re just really close. Like really, really close.” The next thing I grab is a leather strap contraption. “What even is this?”

“A harness. It’s an accessory.”

“Yeah, I get that, you had one on the other day, but how does it work?”

“Like…” He takes it from me, expertly unbuckling it, whipping it around his back and strapping it at the shoulders. It accentuates his pecs and the broadness of his chest. “This.”

I examine it. Him. Even though the harness is strapped over his shirt, it does a certain trick. Here sits a man who knows exactly how sexy he is. “You wear that with or without a shirt, usually?”

“Fifty-fifty. Depends on the mood and the shirt.”

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