Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“My damage?” Asher growled and glared at his friend.
Oliver propped his forearms on the table and leaned in. He squinted and lowered his voice menacingly. “Yeah, you’ve been acting like an asshole all night.”
“How would you know? You haven’t looked away from your plate long enough to notice anything except the location of the salt shaker.”
“Funny,” Oliver said drolly. “Quit bein’ a dick, Penaz. My brother doesn’t deserve it.”
“Ollie.” Shirley grasped Oliver’s shoulder in warning. He rolled his shoulder and shook her off.
“Seriously, you’re being a bigger asshole than usual, and that’s really saying something. Danny’s a good-looking guy; people are going to notice. You should be grateful that he’s willing to be with you and kiss his ass instead of punishing him because you think someone’s coming on to him.”
Asher couldn’t hold back his wince at how close to home Oliver’s words struck. He knew that he was an attractive man, a little rough-looking, maybe, but not bad. But Daniel, he was more than good-looking. He was stunning, truly. And in that outfit…. Asher shuddered and adjusted his erection. Fucking edible, that was what he was. Still, getting relationship advice from Oliver was unwelcome. And absurd.
“Don’t psychoanalyze me, Ollie.”
“I’ll stop doing it when you quit acting like a psycho, Asher.”
He told himself not to respond. He needed to calm down and enjoy the evening. It had been a tough, long week, but he wasn’t at work, he’d eaten a great dinner, and they were going to see one of the best bands of their generation. No reason to be on edge. The efficacy of the internal pep talk lasted about as long as Daniel’s trip to the restroom, because that was when Asher saw him throw himself at another man.
Daniel was walking back to the table, his throng of admirers once again stopping mid-conversation to turn their heads and gape at him. Asher clenched his jaw so tight he could almost hear his teeth grinding. Goddamn, did these people have nothing better to do? Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a tall man with midnight-black hair walked up to Daniel. It looked like he said something, but they were too far away for Asher to hear the words. Whatever it was must have made Daniel happy, because he smiled at the man and hugged him tightly.
Without thought, Asher shoved his chair back and stood, his arms rigid at his sides, fists clenched.
“Where’re you going?” Oliver asked him.
He looked down to answer and then Daniel was there.
“Hey, look who I found.” The stranger was right behind him, close enough to touch. “Marc, this is my brother Oliver, his fiancée Shirley, and you know Asher Penaz.”
This was his neighbor? Asher peered at the infamous Chef Marc. He did look sort of familiar.
“Nice to meet you,” Marc said to Shirley and Oliver before turning to Asher and extending his hand. “We’ve seen each other around the building, but I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m Marc Dorey.”
His smile was warm, his eyes kind, so Asher took his hand and shook it.
“Good to meet you, Marc,” Asher said as he curled his free hand around Daniel’s bicep and gently tugged him over to the table, subtly pointing him toward his seat.
“How was dinner?” Marc asked them. “I hope you enjoyed everything.”
Oliver nodded, Shirley gushed and asked for the ingredients in the pasta sauce, and Asher smiled politely. Neighbor Marc seemed like a decent sort, even if he did look at Daniel for a little longer than seemed necessary.
“Well, it was great meeting you guys. I’d better get back in the kitchen, but I hope you’ll come see us again soon.” He turned to Daniel. “Are we on for Italian wedding soup on Monday?”
“You bet,” Daniel replied.
“Cool. I want to get your thoughts on whether the dill adds or takes away from the overall flavor.”
“Hey, you’re the master,” Daniel said.
Marc scoffed. “Don’t kid yourself, Daniel. You’re almost as good as my sous chef and he’s been at this for years. Plus, you’ve got impeccable taste buds. I followed your suggestion and substituted flat leaf parsley for the curled in the lasagna last week and people went wild.”
Daniel blushed. “Thanks.”
Marc dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “You’re a lucky man, Asher,” he said. Then he waved and walked away.
Instead of being flattered by Marc’s compliment, the words made Asher’s skin itch. Was Marc implying that Daniel was too good for him? Did Daniel think that? Was that why he was dressed like a man on the prowl?
“All right, guys, are we ready to head out?” Oliver asked as he got up. “BWI awaits!”
Shirley nodded and followed him away from the table and toward the door. Asher shoved his chair back and stomped after them.
“Ash,” Daniel said quietly from behind him. He put his hand on Asher’s shoulder and tried to slow his pace. “I’ve been trying to tell you about—”