“Game,” he repeated, drawing out the single syllable into two. “The one you coach? Or do you play also?”
“I play with a club team, but our season ended a couple of weeks ago. We’re on a break till summer, which is fine ’cause my kids have finals and my girls’ team is in the last stretch before CIFs.”
“I don’t understand that acronym, but I’ll come to your game and maybe afterward we can do power tool…things.”
“Sounds like a date. The game is at ten at Westgate. I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay. I have questions, like…where do I sit and what should I wear? Also, what are the rules?”
I smiled. “Sit wherever you want and wear whatever you want. The idea is to have fun. Well…and to kick OC Lutheran’s ass. As for the rules…the goal is to put the ball in the net more times than our opponent. You’ll be able to follow along.”
He didn’t look convinced. “I’ll do some research. Now, what about us? Do you want me to be there and not speak or…are you going to introduce me? And if so, what will you say? I need to rehearse my lines.”
“Lines? This isn’t a play, Ash. We’re friends.”
“No, we’re not. We hardly know each other.”
I frowned. “Then we need to fix that ’cause I’m going to introduce you as my friend. It’s less complicated that way.”
“If someone asks where we met, I’m allowed to improvise, correct?” he teased.
“Correct. And after the game, I’ll take you to Home Depot and show you some power tools. We can grab supplies and make something simple.”
“That’s a whole day together,” Asher said, taking a big bite of pasta.
Too big of a bite. He slurped a rogue piece of tagliatelle with wide eyes, then covered his mouth with his napkin. It was pretty freaking cute. I pointed at the sauce on his cheek.
When he swiped at the wrong side, I hooked my finger and motioned for him to lean in. I wiped his cheek with my thumb, underestimating the intimacy of the gesture. The strong current of heat and desire sizzling between us threw me off guard, rendering me speechless. I froze for a moment and met his eyes.
Of course, when I found my voice, I sounded breathless. “You’ll probably get tired of me.”
“Probably.” He licked his lips, darting his gaze over my face nervously.
I didn’t want him to be anxious, and I definitely didn’t want to make this awkward. So, I killed the moment by pinching his cheek like I was his eighty-year-old great-aunt, chuckling when he smacked my hand.
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist. It might be the bow tie. You’re cute and hot at the same time,” I commented, unthinking. I covered up my lameness with a lame question…as one does...and asked, “Is that a clip-on?”
Asher huffed irritably. “No. I taught myself how to tie a bow tie when I was twelve.”
I smiled. “I like it. Something tells me you’re wearing red for a reason.”
“Red is a power color in business. I figured it was best to treat our alliance as such.”
Okay, I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Business?”
Asher nodded, raising his glass in a toast. “To the business of self-betterment.”
I started to clink it against his but lifted it out of reach instead. “That sounds…cold and kinda boring. We can do better than that.”
He furrowed his brow. “What do you suggest? Keep in mind this is a formal endeavor.”
“Formal? Are you gonna call me Mr. Johnston? Or Coach J?” I squinted as if mulling over the idea. “I could be down with either of those.”
Asher rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite hide his grin. “Can you please be serious?”
“No, I can’t. I want to be silly. In fact, I need to be silly. Everything in life feels heavy right now. Coming out is a heavy concept to me. I may lose my job and a few friends. I think my parents will be okay, but…I don’t really know. So, silly is good.” I made a goofy face to defuse the glum note of reality.
It didn’t work. Asher’s face fell. “Oh. I hadn’t considered that. I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I don’t want you to suffer needlessly.”
“I’m gonna be fine, Ash. Don’t worry.”
“Yes, but I see your point. I’m not good at nonsensical frivolity, but I can try.”
He set his wineglass down without taking a sip and twirled pasta around his fork in a kind of daze. I’d bet big bucks he was planning to do extensive research about how to be silly. A sudden wave of affection hit me out of the blue.
I set my hand over his wrist when he’d spooled nearly all of his pasta onto his fork and squeezed it. “Hey, Ash?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what? I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Just being here is good. I think we’re gonna make a good team.”