Chapter Ten
Asher
I was back to finish the shed a week later and trying to keep my cool. It wasn’t like I expected something more to happen with Franklin and Rory.
I was just going to be really fucking frustrated if it didn’t.
Franklin had texted me a couple of times during the week. I think he was trying to check up on me after I ran away, acting sweet and concerned in a way that made me get all weird and choked up again. I assured him things were chill, though, and didn’t show my cards.
If I was going to draw this out, I needed to keep acting like their fun side piece, and your fun side piece wasn’t really supposed to dump his emotions on your lap.
Or laps. Whatever.
I poured some of the dark green paint into the roller. The color was a little more subdued, but still with a pop to it, like the guys had found a compromise. When I pushed the roller through the paint, it made a slurpy noise.
With Ava off doing some extracurricular thing, Franklin and Rory were working inside. They’d each come out to greet me. Franklin rubbed his hands and talked fast, but Rory just stood there, a calm smile on his face while he rested his hand on his husband’s shoulder.
I knew we were all thinking about the blowjobs, which made me start to obsessively think about the blowjobs.
I was surprised I didn’t just blurt out “blowjob” while I was walking away from the house, in fact.
Let us know if you need any help, Asher!
Thank you! Blowjob!
I shook my head as I climbed the ladder and told myself to just focus on getting the job done.
One thing I knew for sure—I fully intended to impress the husbands again.
I painted one side of the shed, climbing up and down the ladder as clouds passed over the sun. My thoughts wandered all over the place, but they kept circling back to Franklin and Rory, inside their house.
The way I was picturing it, Rory was sitting on his desk, reading a book while his face creased with concentration. Maybe Franklin was making a cup of tea for him, or maybe he was rubbing Rory’s shoulders while he worked, pawing at his broad back.
I tightened my grip around the roller and took in a couple of deep breaths.
Their house was just so fucking wholesome, and the way they acted with me in the shed was so totally not. Why was that so hot to me?
If the really knew what my life was like, anyway, and honestly understood how not wholesome I was, they wouldn’t even let me around their house.
Bullet holes in the rearview mirror did not mix with teenage girls, after all.
I tucked my elbow around the ladder, then dragged it to the front of the shed. Another gust shook the trees, and I was grateful I’d thought to grab my old denim jacket. Five years in Los Angeles meant I was weak to the Seattle chill again.
There was a lot of smaller trim work in the front of the shed, so I hauled the paint bucket up to the top of the ladder, then went to fetch a brush. I poked around in the shed, admiring my own handiwork for a minute and resisting the urge to jerk one out quickly while I had the chance.
Better save it, I thought.Just in case.
When I exited the shed, Rory was stepping out of the back of the house. He raised an arm, gesturing lightly with his hand, almost like a wave. I leaned against the ladder, then cocked my head back.
“Hey, Rory,” I called out. “What can I do for you?”
I made no effort to hide the way I ate him up with my eyes while he walked across the yard. He had another checkered shirt on, buttoned to the top, which he had matched with a pair of khaki pants. He walked purposefully toward me, his strong arms swaying by his side.
It felt like he was coming to get me.
I gulped. Even as I straightened my back, eager to please and impress him, something else started itching the back of my mind. It was a whisper of a voice, asking what would happen if I pushed his buttons a little.
How’d you handle a feisty guy, Rory? Would you put him in his place?
