One True Thing (34 page)

started to feel more like home than the place I

shared with Erik and Rue. Mainly because Asher

was there. I had a feeling the location itself would

never matter as long as he was in it.

He texted me while I was driving to ask if I

wanted him to order a pizza. At the next red light, I

typed up a quick reply telling him that I would

cook, even if it was already going on nine. It

seemed a waste to order food when we had a

whole refrigerator and pantry full of groceries.

When I got to the apartment, Asher greeted me

at the door with a kiss and took my tote bag from

my shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to

order something? I don’t want you to feel obligated

to cook. I know you’re tired.”

I shook my head and leaned against him for a

moment. “I am, but I’ll just make some pasta really

quick. Let’s save the money.”

His lips brushed across my temple. “Okay.

I’ll help you, then.”

FIFTEEN minutes after walking through the door,

I’d changed into a purple tank top and my favorite

pair of black drawstring sweatpants, and was in

the kitchen chopping up tomatoes and green

peppers for my homemade spaghetti sauce. I had

Asher working on an onion, the oven heating for

our garlic bread, and water warming on the stove

for the noodles. While they cooked, I’d throw

together a simple salad, and we’d be good to go.

Easy meal, leftovers for the next day, and no need

to tip a driver.

I was glad Asher didn’t seem to mind all the

vegetarian dishes I’d been making. Occasionally,

when we went out, he ordered something with fish

or chicken, but he never complained about the lack

of it in my cooking. Well,
our
cooking. A lot of the

time he joined me in the kitchen to help, and it

always felt so homey and domestic. I hoped in the

future it might become an everyday thing.

Once the water was boiling, I dumped in the

spaghetti, but when I reached for the wooden pasta

server I normally used to separate and stir the

noodles, it wasn’t in the utensil holder where I

thought it would be. I was fairly sure I’d used it

since the move, but I couldn’t remember for

certain. Rue had helped me unpack the kitchen, and

it was entirely possible he’d stuck it in some

random drawer.

I pulled the dishwasher open first and

checked in there, just in case, but it was empty.

“Ash,” I called as I started hunting through the

drawers, “do you know where the pasta stirrer

is?”

“Pasta stirrer?” Asher appeared in the

doorway to the kitchen, brow furrowed in

confusion. “What does it look like?”

“Oh, you know,” I said as I yanked open my

third drawer and started rummaging, “like a spoon-

slash-fork but not a spork.”

“Um….”

“I wonder if we left it at your old place.”

“Not sure.” Asher bent over and started

looking in the cabinet next to the fridge.

I kept searching, working my way down the

counter, but I was starting to think we
had
left it

behind. I couldn’t remember exactly when I’d seen

the thing last.

I reached the final drawer and peeked inside.

Yeah, the pasta server was officially missing in

action. Nothing in there but junk—pens, rubber

bands, a random box of pushpins, a couple of

screwdrivers, and… paperwork?

I started to pull it out, thinking it was

something Asher might need and have forgotten

about with it shoved all the way in the back, and

saw that it was a blank, crumpled apartment

application. I turned to wave it at him. “Hey, do

you need this, hon? I found it in the junk drawer.

Want me to toss it?”

Asher glanced over his shoulder to see what I

was holding, and I was surprised to see him flush.

He straightened up and cleared his throat. “Uh…

actually, that’s for you.”

I blinked at him, knowing I probably looked

as puzzled as I felt. “For me?”

Asher’s flush darkened. “I… sorry, I didn’t

mean for you to find out like this. I was going to

wait until I thought you were ready.”

“Until I was ready?” I echoed. Suddenly, it

occurred to me what he was saying. “You mean

you want me to…?”

Asher nodded. “Yeah. I asked the landlord

what I’d have to do to add a roommate to my

lease… and I was hoping that roommate would be

you.”

I couldn’t say I wasn’t a little shocked. I

mean, sure, I was practically living with him

already, but unofficially. Any time he didn’t want

me there, all he had to do was ask me to leave.

With me on the lease, it would be something else

entirely—
our
place instead of his. Not a small

step, all things considered. We hadn’t even been

together for half a year yet, and though I was sure

of him and our relationship, it would be a rather

big deal for both of us. I knew he hadn’t lived with

a boyfriend before, and I had never shared a place

with a partner either. Gary had liked his space and

privacy too much to ever cohabitate, and in

hindsight, I was damn glad of that. If it was going

to happen for the first time, there was no one I’d

prefer to experience it with than Asher.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Asher

said when I hesitated. He looked nervous, and his

voice wavered, and that was enough to snap me

out of my indecision.

“Yes.” The word was breathless and

trembling, but I rushed on before I could lose my

nerve. “I’d love to.”

Asher’s smile was like the sun rising, bright

and beautiful and warm. The sight of it made my

heart squeeze almost to the point of pain. God, I

loved him so much. I couldn’t imagine wanting

anyone else—not as desperately as I wanted him.

His touch set my body on fire every time. I would

have been afraid of the effect he had on me if it

wasn’t the very thing I’d been waiting my whole

damn life to feel.

He crossed the kitchen and took me into his

arms before I could say anything else. “Do you

mean it?” he asked. “I can’t think of anything I’d

like more than having you here with me every

day.”

“Me too.” I tilted my face up to his, and he

kissed me slowly, his tongue slipping into my

mouth, twining with mine, stealing my breath.

We stayed that way, kissing and touching,

rocking together, getting more and more turned on,

until the timer for the garlic bread went off, and we

realized the sauce was making a mess on the stove

and we’d let the pasta overcook. But that was

okay. Even if it had burnt to a crisp, I was so

happy it still probably would have tasted good.

AN HOUR later, once we’d eaten and the kitchen

was clean, we were lying in bed together, naked,

breathing raggedly, sweat still cooling on our

bodies. He’d bent me over the mattress, grabbed

onto my shoulders, and pounded into me until I

came without a single touch to my cock. Christ, it

had been incredible. I loved it when a man could

do that to me, make me come by just working his

hips, knowing exactly when to speed it up or slow

it down. Guys like Asher were the reason I

preferred to bottom, but no one had ever felt as

amazing as he did. He was perfection, totally and

completely.

“I’ll talk to Rue and Erik this weekend,” I

murmured, skimming my fingers across his

abdomen, loving the feel of hard muscle and warm

skin. “Make sure they’ll be able to cover things

without me there. I don’t want to leave them in a

lurch, you know?”

Asher nodded and ran hand along my spine.

“Yeah, I get that.”

“I’ll stay there if they need me to, but I think it

should be fine. Erik’s new book just came out last

month, and I know he got another contract at the

end of November. I think he’s picked up some

proof work too, and Rue is making a
lot
more than

he was back in Delaware.”

“Well, if they need you to stay until they can

work something out, we’ll wait.” Asher dropped a

kiss on the top of my head. “But I hope we don’t

have to.”

“Same here.” I reached across his chest to

lightly touch the tattoo on his right arm. “I keep

meaning to ask you about this, but usually I notice

it most when we’re naked, and then I get distracted

by… other things.”

Asher laughed. “It’s
The Moon
by Alphonse

Mucha. Part of his The Moon and the Stars series.

I’ve been a fan since I discovered his paintings in

high school.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, tracing the lines of the

figure’s flowing blue gown. “Why don’t you have

any others?”

Asher half shrugged, moving the shoulder that

wasn’t under my head. “She’s my favorite.” He

pulled back a bit so he could look at me. “You

ever thought about getting one?”

“No.” I smiled a little. “I’m more of a

piercing guy.”

Asher’s right hand moved to my face, his

fingers tracing over the studs on either side of my

lower lip. “I can see that.”

“Do they bother you?” I asked. Unlike

Archer, I thought Asher would be too nice to ever

say.

He shook his head. “Not at all. Didn’t you

have one in your nose the first time I saw you?”

I nodded. “I took it out. Archer said he didn’t

like it, and I… well, I was being dumb, I guess. I

thought he was you, and that it’d be a small thing to

give up to be with you.”

Asher sighed. “Effing Archer. It’s fine by me,

hon. Don’t keep it out on account of him.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve gotten used to it not being

there.” I pressed a kiss to his chin and snuggled

against his side, tucking my head into the curve

where his neck met his shoulder. “And I know

now. I know you would never ask me to change.

That should have been a big clue. I think I’m just

always trying to please people for some reason.”

Asher’s arm tightened around me. “You

please me exactly as you are.”

I smiled again, sleepy and slow. The

exhaustion had finally caught up to me it seemed,

not to mention the aftereffects of the workout I’d

just gotten. I could barely keep my eyes open.

“You too,” I murmured. “Love….”

If he replied, I didn’t hear it. In less than a

second, I was dead to the world.

Asher

I PULLED into the grocery store right around the

time that everyone and their mom decided to stop

by after work. The parking lot was jammed, and I

had to park about a mile away from the front door.

Halfway through my trek to the store, my phone

buzzed. It was Dusty texting to ask if I could please

grab some milk and a bag of baby spinach too. He

apologized and said he loved me. I smiled, hardly

able to believe that Dusty was a few boxes away

from living with me permanently. There hadn’t

been an official moving day, but he’d slowly filled

the empty drawers in my new dresser, and the

empty half of the closet (and then some). His

eyeliners and millions of hair products had

migrated to the bathroom, and his plaid comforter

was folded along the bottom of our bed.

Sometimes when he wasn’t home, I’d open the

closet or the drawers, just to see his stuff in there.

It was odd, I knew. But I’d only ever lived with

my parents, and then Archer. It felt so good, so

real, to have Dusty’s stuff cluttering up our place

and making it look like both of us lived there. I

figured I’d get over the novelty someday, but so far

it hadn’t happened.

Once I got in the store, I wandered around

happily, picking out salad greens and vegetables

for Dusty, cereal, chicken for me, even though I

rarely ate it anymore. I grabbed a couple new tins

of tea to go on Dusty’s tea rack and was headed for

the checkout when my phone buzzed again. It was a

number I didn’t recognize, but local.

“This is Asher,” I answered. My typical

answer for customers.