Page 61 of The Influencer

Finally, he looks up. “Okay.”

“Really?” I practically squeal.

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

“What about Olivia?” I ask, and then I want to shove the words directly back down my throat. It’s like I forgot for a second we’re doing something he has actual guilt and shame about. I feel like an asshole.

But he just answers the question like it’s no big deal. “She’s gone for the week. I’m planning to end it when she comes back.”

I go stone cold still, the air freezing around me suddenly. “That doesn’t have anything to do with this, does it?”

He shakes his head at me and looks away. “Calm down, pretty boy. I’m not asking you to marry me, either.” He stands and leaves the room. I listen to his boots clomp down the hall, and I rush to pull on an extra-large sweatshirt, paranoid that he’s leaving, and start running down the hall in no pants.

But he’s not gone. He’s piling up my papers from the couch, folding up my glasses, and setting my laptop on the coffee table. I sigh with far too much relief. He looks surprised at my sudden appearance, and I’ve got no excuses for myself. “Water?” I ask.

“Sure.”

17

asher

I’ve seen Jade dance twice before. I understand he has moves, but the tour footage proves he has talent. So much talent. While the focus is, as ever, on Gideon York, Jade is easy to spot with his mess of sweaty, golden curls and his pale skin. He’s a true beauty, and he has so much charisma. Not that he’s as impressed as I am. As we watch, sitting side-by-side on the living room couch, he’s critiquing his performance the entire time. Lazy arms, behind half a beat, his face looks stupid.

I ignore him for the most part until I’ve had enough, and I put my hand on his thigh, squeezing it hard and say, “Shut. Up. You’re great.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, and I let my hand stay put, although without so much pressure on his easily bruised skin. Eventually he shifts closer to me, resting his head on my shoulder and sighing contentedly. I actually enjoy Gideon’s music, and I’ve never been to one of his shows, so this feels like a treat. Add to that, Jade’s sweet-smelling warmth and his relaxed, easy presence, I feel calmer than I’ve been in months—maybe longer.

But I don’t allow myself to read too much into that. It’s only the afterglow, which, after the sex we just had, may be strong enough to linger until I see him again on Thursday.

By the time Gideon’s encore begins, I’m lying down. It’s after ten, and I’m drifting, sleep threatening to drag me under if I don’t get moving, but Jade is still watching, leaning on me with an elbow on my hip, his cheek propped in his hand.

I watch his face, his gaze narrow and assessing as my own eyelids drop and finally lose the battle to sleep.

I wake in a still dark city with Jade’s back pressed to my chest, my arm snug around his waist and his head beneath my chin.

Spooning.

My half-foggy brain tries to remember how we got here. Did I invite him into this space? Did he offer to pay me something for the unorthodox cuddle?

No… I would remember that.

He made a choice. While I was sleeping, he did this all by himself. Put himself into my arms and fell asleep.

His body fits perfectly against mine. We notch together in all the right places, his ass perfectly cradled in the bend of my hips, his bare legs flush with my clothed ones, his breath nearly synced with mine until mine speeds with the awareness of his proximity. With the feel of him all over me. I want him again. And it’s not just want. It’s a powerful surge of need as I run my hand down the side of his thigh, until I can’t stop myself from palming his crotch through his tiny underwear.

He lets out a soft sigh, and I go with it, slipping my hand inside to feel his hot dick, marveling at the way it hardens and thickens in my hand with just a few clumsy gropes. My own cock pulses in response, needing more. But then his hand locks on my wrist as he startles awake with a gasp. “Asher?”

“Yeah, still me.”

“Are you fondling me?”

“Are you letting me spoon you?”

“I was tired. It was an accident.”

“You’re actually the worst liar.”

“I was cold,” he says, the words breathless and light.

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