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He clears his throat, shifting in his seat again. "Jenny and I were thinking of going to the beach for a few days. A few people in our group are trying to organize it for everyone."
Mom nods in approval. "That sounds lovely. Rylee, what about you?"
I look up from my food, taking my time chewing as three sets of eyes look at me. I swallow, giving a shrug. "Probably just bang a few criminals, hang out in shady bars, rob a bank… the usual."
Gareth gives a warm laugh in response while mom's face sours. She sighs, putting down her cutlery. Gareth places a hand over hers, patting it gently.
"Stop stressing, love. They are college kids. Let them have fun. As long as they're safe," he pauses for effect, giving me a look, "then it's fine. We all go through those stages. From what you told me, you were quite the devil in college."
Mom giggles, making Asher and I look on with concern. She is not the giggling type nor has she been drinking. I guess the excitement about the ranch is setting in for her.
"Rob and I were quite the rascals," she says, making me freeze.
My parents were high school sweethearts, and followed each other everywhere. They went through college together, and although they graduated in similar fields, mom opted to stay at home. She raised me, along with helping out with various local charities. She's a real people pleaser and social butterfly – the opposite to me now.
Uncomfortable feelings surface in my head, my dad's caring face appearing in my mind. Thankfully, a groan from Asher distracts me.
I look over as he clutches his lower abdomen with his forearm. Gareth and mom watch in concern, their conversation forgotten.
"Are you okay, Ash?" asks Gareth.
I bite my lip, looking at Asher with feign concern. "Yeah, Asher. Are you okay?"
Asher looks at me, a glint in his eye that threatens revenge. I have the perfect view of his lap and it's easy to see thestrainhe is currently dealing with. Before he came down to dinner, he ducked to his room, returning in a pair of tight jeans. I'm assuming he changed for two reasons – one, to hide his situation better, and two, to have pressure over his rock hard dick.
"I'm fine," he murmurs. "Just finding things a bit hard at the moment."
I choke on my food, quickly reaching for my glass of water as I try to keep myself composed. Mom and Gareth give us both weird looks, confused but shake it off. They continue with their conversation about college adventures while I give Asher a small wink. His face is tight as he finishes his dinner, pushing the empty plate forward.
"I'm not feeling well. I'm going to head upstairs to rest," he announces, sliding his chair back slowly. I start to wonder how he is going to make his grand exit but mom steps in to save the day.
"I'll take those to the kitchen for you, Ash. You go rest."
Mom stands, giving Gareth a look I know well. I resist the urge to gag as they hurry into the kitchen together. As soon as they leave the room, Asher stands, making a quick exit.
Oh, if he thinks he is getting away that easy, he has another thing coming. I quickly shove one more fork full of food into my mouth, pushing back my chair as I follow him.
Asher's room is across from mine. I've never been in there but I suspect it's identical to mine in layout. The house is Gareth's – mom and I moved in shortly after they got together, their picture perfect whirlwind romance moving at speeds I was never comfortable with. But people grieve in different ways, and I tried not to judge her, even though it hurt. I never thought she would move on from dad, but I guess she deserves to be happy. I know dad would want her to be happy. He was selfless like that.
As I hit the top of the stairs and turn the corner, I spot Asher flying into his room, the door slamming closed behind him. Racing forward, I quickly grab the handle in case he locks it. The bastard doesn't get to relieve himself and I'm going to make sure he doesn't cheat his way into victory.
The door is unlocked and I step in, closing it so the parentals don't get suspicious if they come up this way. Asher isn't anywhere to be seen, but water running from his bathroom indicates where he is hiding.
I look around his room quickly, taking in how vastly different his decor is to mine. His walls are sea green, completely bare except for shelving which has a collection of trophies and medals. Everything is neatly packed away – even his bed is made. The carpet is soft and light grey, and I wriggle my toes into it as I walk through his walk-in closet to get to his bathroom.
In retrospect, I should have learned to knock. But my drive to catch him pushes all pleasantries aside. The breath is sucked out of my lungs as I walk into his ensuite. Asher is stark naked, leaning forward towards the wall in front of the shower door, bracing himself with one hand. The shower behind him is warming up, steam rising as it waits for an occupant to step inside. I can't help but gaze over him in admiration – his body is a temple, carved muscles along every area, right down to the raging hard-on he is sporting. Sensing me, he flicks his head up.
"Come to see the show?" he asks, though it's obvious he's pained.
"No show," I respond, moving to sit on the closed toilet lid. "Rules are rules."
Asher scoffs, shaking his head. "There was nothing said about a shower."
"Well," I start, pretending to look at my nails. "You can have a shower, but I've heard that any pressure, even a breeze, might cause some discomfort."
He leans back against the wall, putting one foot flat against it as he looks at me. There's no attempt to cover himself and frankly, if I was a male with a body like that, I'd probably be whipping it out like an elephant trunk every chance I got.
"You said you like pain."
