Page 44 of Addiction

“I’m starting to regret this friendship already.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re a shit liar?”

“Oh, man. Why do I get the feeling I’ve met my match with you?”

I shrug. “Maybe it’s about time you met your match.”

He holds my gaze, and I suddenly want to know everything he is thinking. Asher is a gorgeous man, but when he’s full of happiness, it’s breathtaking.

The banter between us has shifted any unrest that was left with us on the beach, the tension in his shoulders is no longer there, and that look of uncertainty has gone.

The sun through the window emphasizes the prominent curves of his biceps and shoulders, and God if he doesn’t have a sexy fucking neckline. I can’t remember the last time I was this attracted to a man. I’ve had my fun times, nights with a quick hook up, a brief fling to pass the time, but nothing like this. And what’s more frustrating is that I can’t pursue anything even if I wanted to because he’s not gay.

Or is he?

Giving him a knowing look, I push his glass of juice toward him. “Go on. I dare you.”

A mischievous chuckle leaves him. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

“I have many qualities.”

He picks up his glass, looking at the juice as if it’s poison. For effect, I tap my fingertips on the edge of the table to begin a drum roll. With a few large mouthfuls, he downs the juice, pulling a face in disgust once he slams the glass back down. “Holy fuck. That’s vile.”

“Congratulations on your achievement.”

“Thank you.” He coughs, hitting his chest. “Your turn.”

“Oh, didn't I say? I don’t drink it.”

His eyes widen. “What?”

“For some reason, the owner thinks I need it as part of my fitness program and just provides it without charge. It’s his way of thanking me for helping him recover from his hip replacement. I’ve never drunk any of them, but I wanted to see how far you would go.”

“You fucking asshole.” He laughs.

“Although, I’m pretty impressed you went along with it.”

“I guess I’ve just taken our friendship to another level.”

“And so quickly. I’m impressed.” I grin.

“So, if you don’t drink them, how does the owner not know?”

“Because I do this.” Taking my glass, I turn toward the shelf behind me and pour the juice into the plant pot. When I turn back, I find a shit-eating grin on his face as he points at me.

“You are crazy.”

“I haven’t got the heart to tell him I don’t like them. He thinks he is doing me a favor and it makes him feel good. I don’t want to ruin it.”

When our breakfasts arrive, we sit in comfortable silence, tucking into our waffles and fresh strawberries as the restaurant slowly starts to fill with people and chatter. Glancing at Asher, who is watching the world go by out of the window while he eats, there are so many questions I want to ask him. I’ve heard the bad stories and I’ve heard the good ones, too, but I want to hear them all again from him. I want his interests and his dreams. I want his favorites and his insecurities. I want to know everything there is to know about this man because I don’t think he realizes just how fascinating he is.

“So you’re a beach runner?”

That brings his attention back to me. “Not really. I run anywhere, but there is something about the ocean that brings me down here.”

“It’s the SEAL blood in you.”

“I guess.” Finishing his food, he pushes his plate away. “One way or another, the ocean has always been in our family. With Pop and I in the Navy and Nora’s huge love for marine life and oceanology, it’s like it’s second nature.”