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I was about to hang up and rush into my room to change into my Sticks gear when Asher actually answered, surprising the hell out of me.
“Hey, man,” he answered, sounding breathless and yet casual, as if he wasn’t trapped naked to his own bed. “What’s up?”
Okay, so maybe he’d gotten loose already.
“Not much.” My voice sounded stiff to my own ears. I wasn’t sure how I was doing this, why I was still playing this off as two different people. I just wanted to end the charade, and yet the consequences of my actions remained too big for me to face. He was going to hate me so much.
“I...” I had to pause and clear my throat. “I was starving and thought pizza sounded good for lunch. Want to come with?”
“Sure,” he answered, still mentioning nothing of his predicament, but I knew he was going to have to tell me...soon...if he was still trapped, anyway.
“Cool,” I said. “I’ll swing by and pick you up in a bit, then.”
“Sounds good. But, uh, quick question first.”
Great. Here it came. “Okay,” I murmured, bracing for his take on what had just happened.
But after a small hesitation, all he said was, “You don’t happen to have...handcuff keys, do you?”
“Um...” Damn, I wasn’t ready for that question, and it was probably the most logical one for him to ask. But I didn’t have the keys. I didn’t even know where they could be.
“Never mind,” he said suddenly. “I know I have some here. Somewhere. Could you just...come over and give me a hand?”
“Of course. I’ll be there in less than twenty.”
I hung up on him before he could say anything. And I made it back to his place within fifteen minutes, my mask, fake torso, and man panties firmly in place.
When I parked in front of his apartment entrance, I cursed myself again for leaving his door unlocked in my escape. His father could’ve just moseyed right on in and hurt him. A little scared his dad had beaten me here, I rushed to the door and immediately called, “Asher?”
“Down here.”
Relief sagged my shoulders and I took the steps two at a time. He’d managed to use his legs to cover his lap with sheets, but I’d forgotten just how very exposed I’d left him.
But...holy damn. The boy was pure art. My mouth watered as I remembered everything we’d done together on that bed.
Except the wary way he watched me and the blush climbing his cheeks because he couldn’t conceal more of himself from his gay friend shoved me back to reality.
He opened his mouth, probably to explain, but I held up a hand. “I’m not even going to ask.”
The air rushed from his lungs before he gratefully murmured, “Thank you.”
I nodded. “The only question I have is, where do you think the key is?”
“Fuck, I’m not sure,” he muttered, sounding pissed at himself. “But it’s got to be somewhere around that gift bag on the table.”
I hurried to the bag that had tipped onto its side and had crinkled tissue paper spilling out the top. After burrowing through the mess, I found the box the cuffs had come in and, yes, success! Two little keys were still inside.
I tipped the box so they slid out into my palm. “Found them!”
“Thank God,” he moaned as I turned toward him. But when I started toward him, this leery look crossed his features. His eyes were no longer full of trust and warmth.
It was the sharp slap of reality I needed.
“I’ll only be a second,” I promised as I hurriedly knelt on the mattress next to his upstretched arms and popped the key into the lock. After a small turn and click, he was free and yanking his arms down, grabbing more sheets to cover himself as he scooted away from me.
I backed off the bed to give him room. Then I watched as he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing before he rubbed his wrists. When I realized the skin was chaffed raw, I lurched forward.
“¡Oh, Dios mío! You’re hurt.”
