Something in the Way He Needs (Family 1)

“Daniel, when was the last time you had something to eat?” he asked. And when did I turn into somebody’s mother?

Not his own mother, because she’d waited tables during the day and bartended at night to support herself and her four boys after their father ran out on them. She hadn’t had time to nag anybody about eating right. Nope, he’d turned into one of those fictional television mothers.

“Uh, I don’t remember,” Daniel answered. “But—”

“No, buts. You need to eat.”

Oliver’s mouth dropped open. Asher continued ignoring him. It was easy, seeing as how he was already ignoring the voice in his head asking him who the fuck had taken control of his mouth.

“Okay, I’ll, um….” Daniel glanced down at the menu and up to the waiter, who was staring at him with a barely concealed grin. “I’ll have the vegetable soup, please.”

“Are you sure that’ll be enough?” Asher asked him. “Won’t you still be hungry?”

“Oh, come on!” Oliver practically shouted from across the table. “Is this some kind of joke?” His hands flew up to shoulder height and he looked around the room, as if expecting an answer from somebody. “Seriously, are there hidden cameras around here or what?”

“Shut up, Ollie,” Asher growled. “Leave it alone.”

The waiter scurried away and Daniel raised his glass. “To my brother,” he said, obviously trying to change the topic and clear the tension in the air. “I haven’t met Shirley, but I know she must be a special woman to capture Ollie’s heart. I look forward to meeting her.”

Everybody raised their glasses in a toast and Oliver’s frat-boy buddies even hooted and hollered. Asher hoped Ollie wouldn’t ruin the applause with a speech, but the hope was short-lived.

Asher was taking the first sip of his beer when Oliver started talking. The man was still going strong by the time Asher had drained his glass. Admittedly, he’d gulped more than sipped, but still. Realizing that his friend wasn’t anywhere near done, Asher rolled his eyes and got the waiter’s attention. He raised his empty glass in the air and tilted his chin toward it in a silent request for another round. Hopefully some medicinal drinking would make the rest of the night bearable.

“Then on our third date,” Oliver rambled on, “Shirley and I went….”

“Holy shit, he’s going to take us through every single moment they’ve spent together,” Asher mumbled under his breath. “There isn’t enough alcohol in Las Vegas to help me get through this.”

He felt a hand grip his knee underneath the table and give him a gentle squeeze. A glance at Daniel melted his tension away. Daniel focused those warm, twinkling eyes on him, a knowing grin on his cute face. Asher raised one eyebrow in question.

“I don’t get to see my brother much,” Daniel whispered in explanation. “This is like getting an abridged rundown of his life.”

“Abridged?” Asher asked incredulously, but he returned Daniel’s smile, his frustration draining away, just like that. “He just told us what he ordered for dinner on his third date with Shirley, down to every last detail. When we know there was too much pepper on the Greek salad and that he asked for lime in his water instead of lemon, we’re well past abridged and fully into extraneous detail territory.”

“Maybe.” Daniel shrugged. “But now I know Shirley doesn’t like pickles. That tidbit might come in handy one day.”

A snort somehow escaped Asher’s mouth. “You’re funny,” he said under his breath.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Daniel’s eyes shone as he spoke. “I’m not just a pretty face.” He batted his eyelids in an exaggerated fashion.

Asher realized Daniel was making a joke and going for campy, but he had incredibly long lashes and the sweetest smile and…. Asher considered taking himself outside and kicking his own ass. Was it possible that Oliver spiked his drink earlier that day? There seemed to be no other explanation for the nauseatingly sappy thoughts infiltrating his mind.

“You wanna share with the class, Asher?” Oliver asked.

It took Asher several moments to realize a question had been directed to him. He had been well on his way to training his brain to consider Oliver’s voice background noise.

“Huh?”

“You’re scowling at my brother.”

“Settle down, Ollie,” Asher said. “I’m not scowling at him. I think your brother’s funny. Go back to your story.”

Well, shit. Now he had nobody to blame but himself. He had actually invited Ollie to continue sharing way the fuck too much information. Where was the waiter with that beer?

“OOMPH!” The air rushed out of Daniel’s lungs when Asher shoved him against the wall in the elevator. “What’re you—”

“Damn, your body feels nice.” Asher had just a hint of a slur. Not a surprise, considering how much he’d been drinking. “Why do you hide it underneath these baggy clothes?”

Large, strong hands roamed Daniel’s body. First skimming, then squeezing his chest, stomach, hips, and ass. It was impossible for Daniel to keep his body in check, to keep himself from reacting to the pressure behind Asher’s touch. He loved being manhandled, always had, and he’d never been with anyone who did it quite so forcefully. He gulped and tried to keep his mind clear of the haze of lust that suddenly overwhelmed him.