Placing the bottle on the kitchen counter out of Asher’s immediate reach, he turned back to him with an annoyingly cheerful smile. “That delicious little cupcake of yours texted me.”
Luke wore a pair of loose-fitting black scrubs, but Asher didn’t know if he had come fromthe clinic or was on his way into work. He didn’t ask.
“Cameron needs to learn to mind his own business,” he grumbled.
“Oh, so it’s one ofthosepity parties. You should have told me. I would have brought my violin.”
“Luke,” Asher growled threateningly.
“Asher,” Luke mimicked back, clearly not the least bit intimidated. He slid a large tote bag in an obnoxious shade of pink off his shoulder and placed it on the table. “You should eat something.”
“You should go away.”
Luke ignored him. “I brought subs from that place around the corner from my apartment. You know, the one with the cute cashier who always gives me extra pickles for free.” His eyelashes fluttered, and he patted a hand over his chest. “So hot.”
Running on about two hours of sleep and pissed off at the world, Asher didn’t have the patience for Luke’s particular brand of helpfulness. “Luke, what the fuck are you even doing here?”
The playful smile faded, and he abandoned the tote bag to give Asher an icy glare. “Saving you from your idiotic self. You look like shit,” he stated bluntly. “You smell like a goddamn distillery, and you’re still wearing the sameclothes you had on at the book signing.” He shrugged when Asher arched an eyebrow at him. “I saw pictures.”
“Your point?”
“My point is you’re being a tool.” Leaning toward him across the table, he snapped his fingers in Asher’s face. “Wake up, sweetheart. Life’s not fucking fair. Shit happens. Get over yourself.”
“How much did Cameron tell you?”
“A little.”
“My parents showed up at the library.”
“And?” Unfazed, he returned to unpacking the food he’d brought with him. “Did the world end?”
Actually, no. There had been a couple of articles written about it, but the coverage had been surprisingly minimal. Asher hadn’t seen or heard from his parents since. They hadn’t tried to contact him. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe he’d seen the last of them, but so far, nothing extreme had happened.
“That’s what I thought,” Luke continued when Asher just blinked at him. “Look, I get it. They’re shitty people who made your life hell, but guess what? You’re not a kid anymore. They can’t hurt you unless you let them.”
“I…you…” It sounded so simple when said like that. “You’re right.”
“Of course, I am.” He unwrapped some turkey and cranberry concoction and slid it across the table. “It’s their new thing for Thanksgiving or whatever. Just try it.”
“I don’t like—”
“Try. It.”
Obediently, Asher picked up the sandwich and bit into it. Granted, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever put in his mouth, but he still hated cranberries.
“Thank you.”
Luke nodded sharply. “You’re welcome.” Settling down in his seat, he pulled his own sandwich toward him and began unwrapping it. “Now, do you want to talk about it? Or are you still feeling sorry for yourself?”
Taking another bite of the—whatever the hell he was eating—Asher chewed slowly and swallowed before answering. “I fucked up.”
“Probably.”
Good to know he had his best friend’s support. “I kind of lost it when my parents ambushed me at the library, and I told Cameron I had to leave.”
Luke cocked his head to one side. “I’m not sure how that means you fucked up. Sounds reasonable to me.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell himwhy. I just…kind of shut down and left.”
