Page 39 of Addiction

“Seriously, it’s fine.” Looking down at Ava, I say, “They only do this in front of me because I’m gay. They wouldn’t do it in front of Uncle Asher.”

Grayson and Nora both laugh as I hear the front door close. “Who wouldn’t do what in front of Uncle Asher?”

I turn to find the man himself standing in the doorway looking sexy as hell, and my stomach flips. He’s in black shorts and a grey tank top that a dark, prominent line of sweat runs down the center of. His dark hair, all disheveled, sticks to his forehead and beads of sweat run down his temples.

Fuck me. This man has so many looks and I like every one of them.

“Oh, nothing,” Nora adds. “It involves Grayson with his tongue down my throat.”

Asher pulls a face. “I do not want to see that.”

“I didn’t expect to see you until later,” Grayson says.

“Well I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a run and thought I’d stop by here as I could smell breakfast. Which will burn if you continue giving my sister all your attention.”

Grayson rolls his eyes, kisses Nora on the head and turns back to the stove.

“Did Mom get off to work okay?” Nora asks.

“She did.”

Taking the bottom of his sweaty tank top, Asher lifts it to wipe his face, giving me a glimpse of his washboard torso that I want more of. Once he’s done, he steps forward and kisses Ava on the head to say hello to her. His body wash and sweat hits my senses with our proximity.

“Do you want to hold her?” I ask him, passing her to him,

“Hey, baby girl,” he whispers and suddenly this big bear of a man in front of me transforms into the purest and gentlest thing I’ve ever seen as he looks down at her having a little conversation. The coos and smiles that come from Ava are simply adorable. And if I had ovaries they would have burst by now for sure.

“She’s just gorgeous, isn’t she?” I say softly, watching them both.

“She is.”

“Asher, Wade, would you two like some juice with breakfast?” Nora asks.

We both agree in unison before Asher looks at me. “Are you here for breakfast, too?”

“I’m often ordered to come to make breakfast for your sister.”

“Only when Mom is working,” Nora protests. “He’s got Mom’s pancake recipes off to a treat.”

“It’s all the practice she gave me when I was working with your dad.”

“Can you remember that morning you tried to get Pete to help you out in the kitchen and the ingredients went all up the wall?” Grayson adds, amused. “That was hilarious.”

“I’d never seen Pop laugh so hard,” Nora says, setting the table.

“His motor skills were not on top form that morning,” I chuckle.

I feel Asher’s body stiffen from across the room, and I know—like the other night in the bar—we’ve entered a zone he doesn’t wish to be reminded off.

“Yeah, but he still managed to throw the spatula at you.” Grayson laughs. “He always seemed to manage to throw stuff at you in some kind of friendly payback.”

“Because he didn’t like the orders I would give him.”

“He loved them. The bond you had with him was amazing,” Nora replies.

The more the three of us reminisce about that morning, the more I can feel Asher withdraw. His jaw is locked, his head bowed, and I can see now that talking of Pete makes him uncomfortable. And I don’t understand why.

“You know what, I’m going to skip the breakfast and head home,” he interjects, cutting the happy atmosphere dead.