The Jock Script (The Script Club 3)

“My aura,” I repeated with a laugh. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little odd?”

Asher snickered. “Oh, gosh. All the time. Although in my field, I’m not so strange at all. I have a coworker named Chet who sets his watch to the time on Mars. He gains thirty-seven minutes every day and resets on Sunday. Don’t ask me why. I truly have no idea. Kellen, another work associate, is a talented astrophysicist and a brilliant man. He brings seven oranges to work on Mondays, eats five, and gives two away. He won’t say why, but we think he gifts them to the office mates who irritated him the least that week.”

“Have you ever gotten an orange?”

“Only once. Apparently, I have strong opinions. But that’s okay. I don’t like oranges.” Asher shrugged carelessly, brightening when the server returned with a basket of bread and the promise to deliver our salads shortly. He thanked the server, pouncing on the bread basket like a kid before offering it to me. “Want some? They have the best bread here.”

“I remember.”

Only because he’d mentioned it more than once, adding that this Italian restaurant was a carb lover’s dream. I liked it because it was quiet. I didn’t have to strain to hear him over neighboring conversations. Closeted me usually appreciated the dim lighting in places like this too. Tonight, it frustrated me.

I wished the table was smaller and the votive on our table was bigger so I could see Asher’s ever-changing expressions more clearly. His unconscious intensity mesmerized me. He seemed to burn brighter than other mere mortals, as though he had so much information bubbling to the surface that he had to find a way to make room for more.

I chose a piece of focaccia and set it on my plate, smiling as he launched into further examples of all the oddballs he knew.

“My roommates are my closest friends, and I suppose you might think they’re a little strange too. George wears a cape occasionally, and Holden loves anything medieval…although he’s particularly enamored with knights. Tommy and Topher are space geeks like me. We all are, really. I initially worried that having too much in common would make living together a struggle, but that hasn’t been the case at all.” Asher hummed happily as he bit into his bread, pointing at a dipping sauce next to the basket. “Isn’t this bread amazing? Try the aioli dip.”

I obeyed, fluttering my eyelashes in exaggerated bliss to make him laugh. “Amazing.”

He stared at my mouth a beat too long before meeting my gaze. “Uh, right. What was I saying?”

“Roommates.”

“Oh, yes. It’s been so easy. I’m not looking forward to finding a replacement for Topher.”

“Where’s he going?” I asked conversationally, making room on the table when our salads arrived.

“He’s moving in with his boyfriend. The one he met after you trampled his heart.”

“Cool it with that. You know that isn’t true,” I huffed.

Asher stared at the brussels sprout concoction in front of him. “I will respectfully reserve judgment.”

“Of the salad or me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m growing on you. Admit it.” I kicked his shin playfully under the table when he rolled his eyes.

He took a bite of salad, carefully chewing and swallowing. “This is actually quite good.”

“It is,” I agreed, gesturing toward the binder. “So…your mom says we should spend time together. Did you tell her about—”

“Us?” he croaked. “No way. She thinks I’m a good person. I want to keep it that way.”

“Hey, having sex with me wasn’t a bad thing,” I argued in between bites.

“It was unwise.”

“Hmph. I gotta ask…why did you create that profile in the first place? You had to know that having sex with any stranger was going to cause you anxiety.”

Asher sighed heavily and set his fork down. “Yes, but I was so…”

“Horny?” I offered.

He nodded. “Exactly. I hadn’t had sex in a while. And the random amorous noises emanating from friends’ rooms didn’t help. Side note, George and Aiden have been very active lately—and…I’d just finished reading a super sexy space odyssey fanfic.”

I busted up. “Alien sex? Really?”

“It was set two hundred years in the future and involved blowjobs and double penetration. I couldn’t keep all the body parts straight sometimes, but it was captivating to say the least,” he assured me, spearing another bite of brussels sprouts.

“Double—like two dicks at once?”

“Yep. The reality sounds painful, but it was fun to read. I read another one that was even more ridiculous. The premise was shuttling between planets like it was a simple matter of hopping on a bus. Engaging in anal intercourse with a double-endowed alien is far more likely than a twenty-minute ride from Earth to Mars,” he scoffed.

“Was it one alien with two dicks or two aliens fucking the same guy at once?” I asked in the same casual tone I might use to inquire about tomorrow’s weather forecast.