Page 70 of Sin Bin Daddies
The night still clings to my skin—salt, sand, the lingering press of his mouth, his hands. My body hums, both sated and aching, my muscles languid from the hours we spent tangled in the dunes.
But now, reality tugs me back in.
Ford.
We step into the apartment, the living room dimly lit by the glow of the streetlights outside. Ford is on the couch, sprawled on his back, his hand resting on his chest, the ice pack now half-melted against his knuckles.
He looks peaceful like this, face relaxed, dark lashes fanned across his cheekbones.
I hesitate, then kneel beside him, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He stirs slightly, making a soft noise, but doesn’t wake.
Asher leans against the doorway, watching me. “He’ll be okay.”
I glance up. “You sure?”
His mouth lifts at the corner. “Yeah. He’s tougher than he looks.”
I let out a quiet breath, my fingers lingering a second longer before I pull away. “You’ll keep an eye on him?”
Asher nods. “I always do.”
Something about the way he says it makes my chest tighten.
I push to my feet, shaking off the weight settling in my ribs. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Asher follows me into my apartment, his presence shifting the air, making it thick with something I can’t quite name. The space feels smaller with him here, the walls closer, the air warmer.
Sunny rushes over and perches himself up from his spot near the kitchen, his tail thumping lazily against the floor.
“Hey, buddy.” I kneel, scratching behind his ears before grabbing his food bowl. As I scoop kibble into it, Asher’s voice drifts over from behind me.
“You okay with everything that happened tonight?”
I pause, my fingers tightening around the edge of the bag. Then I exhale, setting it down and straightening. I turn to face him, crossing my arms loosely over my chest.
“Yeah.” My lips tug into a small smile. “I am.”
He watches me, head tilting slightly. “You sure?”
I nod. “I mean, you liked it, right?”
He chuckles, stepping closer, hands sliding into his pockets. “I did.”
I bite my lip, hesitating. Then, before I can overthink it, I say, “I had a pretty terrible relationship back in Boston. Then I had sex with someone I probably should not have slept with.”
I glance down, toeing the floor as thoughts of that last time with Leo flood my brain. We haven’t really spoken since that hookup in the locker room.
I caught glimpses of him at the game, but he was so busy coaching that we barely said two words to each other.
I push Leo out of my mind and focus on the now. “But this, with you and Ford? It seems like fun. And I want fun right now.”
Asher doesn’t say anything right away. When I look up, he’s watching me with that same unreadable expression, like he’s turning my words over in his mind.
Then he steps closer, close enough that I can smell the salt still clinging to his skin, the lingering trace of bonfire smoke in his hair.
“It could be,” he says, voice low.
A small smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah?”
