“They didn’t have your usual, so I got the chicken and chorizo.”
Asher barely has time to put the tray down before Grayson has whizzed one of the steaming bowls of pasta off it and is shovelling it into his mouth. And I thought I was hungry.
Asher sits down and takes his own bowl from the tray. His knee brushes against mine, and I feel my skin heat. My best friend and her boyfriend are deep in conversation, and I take the opportunity to sneak a look at Asher. His hair is combed back, and he’s wearing his glasses. He has a couple of days’ worth of stubble, and I imagine how it would feel on the sensitive skin of my upper thighs. He always looks hot, but this is one of my favourite looks on him.
He removes his jacket and twists around to hang it on the back of his chair. As he does so, he catches me looking at him.
“Have you eaten?” His thoughtful question surprises me, and my response sticks in my throat. All I can manage is a small nod. “Good. You need to keep your strength up for later.”
I blush furiously. He’d messaged me this morning asking if we could meet up later, and despite having seen him every night this week, like a thirsty groupie, I’d agreed embarrassingly quickly.
He opens a small sachet of pepper and sprinkles it over his meal before unfolding a paper napkin and placing it on his lap as though he’s in a Michelin-star restaurant, not a university food court. His meticulous nature used to annoy me but now I love it.
He carefully cuts a piece of tortellini in half before spearing it with his fork. He swallows it down, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob before his tongue flicks across his bottom lip. It should be illegal for him to eat in public. Every mouthful he takes gets me more worked up. I cast furtive glances in his direction; this is awkward as fuck. Or perhaps it’s just me. He seems perfectly comfortable.
It suddenly feels too warm. I unzip my hoody and try to think unsexy thoughts.
Asher finishes his lunch and leaves his cutlery and serviette neatly on his plate.
“Everything alright, princess? You look a little flushed.”
“Yup.” I chew on my bottom lip and hope my friends haven’t picked up on our little interaction.
He drops his hand under the table and finds mine. He pulls my hand over to his lap, linking his fingers throughmine. I’m not sure if it’s just the simple action itself or the thought of someone seeing that has my heartbeat rising. He rests our linked hands in his lap and the back of my hand grazes his hard length. He was teasing me about being turned on, but it’s clear I’m not the only one affected by this thing between us. I move my hand a little and he groans under his breath. It’s loud enough to garner attention from the other two people at our table, and I try to snatch my hand away. Asher tightens his grip, rubbing his thumb over my pulse point in a circular motion.
“You okay, bro?” Grayson throws a balled-up napkin at Asher across the table, and as his right hand is occupied with mine, it hits him square in the face.
Grayson cocks his head.
“Seriously man. You feeling okay?”
“I feel fucking fantastic, thank you for asking.” Asher drags the back of my hand over his hard cock, and flashes his friend a toothy grin. “Never fucking better.”
Happy with his response, Grayson goes back to scrolling through his phone, but Dahlia looks between the two of us, her brow wrinkled. There’s no way she can see what’s going on under the table but it’s clear she has picked up on something. I clear my throat.
“I wondered if you wanted to go shopping this weekend? Pick up a few bits for you to take away with you in January?” The change of subject seems to work and Dahlia and I make plans to go into town.
We finish our break, and the guys head off in the opposite direction for their next lectures. Dahlia and I link arms and walk towards the north campus.
“What was that?” Dahlia’s question has me stopping in my tracks.
“What do you mean?” Shit. I knew she’d picked up onsomething over lunch. She’s too astute for her own good. I adjust the shoulder strap on my bag and wonder what the hell I’m going to tell her.
“I saw the way he was looking at you.”
I shrug, noncommittally.
“How was he looking at me?”
“Like he doesn’t hate you.”
“Er, okay.” I roll my eyes. “We should alert the papers. Lord Asshole of the Manor no longer hates me.” She smacks my shoulder lightly.
“I’m being serious. It was more than that. It was… hot.”
I try to link my arm back through hers, but she pulls away and looks me up and down for a second before her jaw drops.
“Oh my fucking god. You’re fucking, aren’t you?” I’m too stunned to reply, and she takes my silence as confirmation. “I knew something was different about you. You’re getting laid! This explains so much. Asher has been chirpier lately and when I mentioned it to Grayson, he was suspiciously quiet. Ha, you’re both getting laid.”
