His Boy by Bink Cummings

Author:Bink Cummings [Cummings, Bink]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01G4J24YU
Published: 2016-05-23T23:00:00+00:00

Justin

Damn it. Did I pick the right restaurant? Is he having a good time? Why isn’t he speaking to me?

Across the dimly lit, secluded booth, Asher stares blankly at the wall above my head as he continues to run his thumb back and forth over his bottom lip. Something’s wrong with him. Did I break my boy? I knew he was nervous about going out and I’d forced him to come, anyway. Fuck.

On the ride over, he seemed fine. Hugging me tighter at the corners, his cheek perched on my shoulder. I’d parked my Harley out front of Luigi’s here in Charlotteton, which is a town a few miles away. That’s when he’d clammed up, and wouldn’t climb off the bike without my help. Refusing to hold my hand, he didn’t say a thing to the hostess as she practically undressed him with her eyes. He’s been entirely out of it. I even had to order him lasagna, and he hasn’t touched the bread sticks, yet. They’re his favorite.

That’s why I chose this place. As much as Asher cooks, he rarely cooks the things he loves most. He prepares what I love. Which is beef products, when I know he prefers chicken. We have potatoes when I know he favors rice. He’s so damn good to me, he deserves a night out, away from slaving in the kitchen. At least he allows me to wash the dishes for him. If he didn’t, I’d feel like a complete asshole. Not that I’m feeling much better than that right now.

“Asher, baby.” I reach out to touch his hand that’s resting on the table top, and he lurches it away, placing it on his lap. “Asher, we need to talk. You need to eat.”

No facial expression. Nothing. Just more of that blank staring. He’s killing me here. What’d I do wrong?

My stomach drops.

Does he not wanna be my boy anymore?

The cutesy waitress gives a sympathetic smile as she removes our untouched salads. I’m not eating until he does.

I try again. I have to. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You.” He licks his lips once, twice, three times. “You kissed me.”

“Of course, I did.”

He licks his lips some more. It’s fine as fuck.

Finally, his gaze shifts to me, and I smile, blowing out a relieved breath, my overwrought shoulders deflating.

“You kissed me for the first time in three years,” he murmurs.

“Is that okay?”

Dreamily, his fingers brush over his bottom lip, and I’m jealous of it, wishing it was my tongue. “It was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

Oh, thank God!

“For me, too, Asher. Me, too.”

Blinking a few times, the haze clouding Asher’s enchanting eyes finally clears. “Why did you bring me here?” He scans the place like he’s just now noticing it. A tiny smirk quirks from the corner of his mouth. He likes it. At least, it appears that way.

Laying my hand on the table, praying that he’ll take it into his, I reply a sincere, “You deserve to be treated nicely.

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