Page 6 of When We Ignite
He tensed before stepping back, a smile playing on his lips.
“Please, call me Ash,” I said. “Or Mr. Langley, if that’s what you’re into,” I added in a whisper.
He chuckled, moving away from me. “Bye, Ash,” he said, grinning.
I watched him walk away, admiring the flex of his muscles. I missed the tennis shorts.
Returning to the call, I finished up and then sat next to Charlotte. They all gave me a look.
“What?” I asked, laughing.
“You’ve been gone the entire time,” Oli complained.
A server came by, placing a plate in front of me. “I have a business to run—yourbusiness—the one that pays for the steak you just had, and just about everything else in your life,” I reminded him.
“I have a job,” Oliver pointed out.
“Sure you do. Just like Henry makeshisown living,” I said, digging into my food.
“Hey. I run a very successful business,” Henry argued.
“You own nightclubs,” I sighed.
He scowled at me. “They’re very successful.”
“I’m sure they are.” I rolled my eyes before shifting my attention to Charlotte. “You work at an art gallery, right?”
“The Montclair Contemporary.”
I arched a brow, impressed. “Art history major?”
Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Charlotte’s smile brightened. “That’s right.”
“Remind me, are your parents still married?”
Oliver started shaking his head, already bracing himself, while Henry shot me a curious look.
“They got divorced a while ago.”
I glanced at Oliver before leaning in slightly toward Charlotte. “And would you say your brother has a good relationship with your father, or are there some unresolved issues he should be working through?”
Oliver muttered a curse under his breath as Henry burst out laughing.
“For fuck’s sake, Ash,” Oliver groaned.
“You’re terrible,” Charlotte informed me, though she was laughing too. “Don’t joke about that. He’s half your age and straight. I’m guessing you can get anyone you want—maybe not this one.”
“Is that a bet?” I asked, smirking.
“It most definitely isn’t.”
“I’d bet on Ash,” Henry chimed in “Whenever I bet against him bedding someone, he wins.”
I lifted my glass to him.
“Please stop this. He’s a child and your future brother-in-law,” Oliver said.
