One True Thing (33 page)

couldn’t help but feel kind of bad for him. Meeting

people, making lasting relationships, could be hard

no matter where you were. In a place like West

Hollywood, and especially Los Angeles, it was

even harder. Judging by his reaction to my

invitation, I thought it would be safe to assume he

hadn’t made very many friends yet—if any. At

least not real ones.

“Great,” I said, reaching into my apron to

withdraw my phone. “What’s your number? I’ll

text you the information.”

THREE days later I was waiting in my boyfriend’s

apartment with two of my friends, a couple of porn

stars, and a coworker who used to have a crush on

me. It was an odd mix.

Christy had breezed in almost twenty minutes

after I’d asked people to be there, but she seemed

nice enough. Luckily, Asher had texted to tell me

he was running late, so she hadn’t missed the

actual surprise part. Of course, there was still a

chance she would miss it anyway, since she’d

disappeared into the bathroom to “touch up her

makeup” and had yet to reappear.

Josh was in the living room, fidgeting on one

corner of the couch and looking nervous, while

Lane sat at the opposite end. They weren’t talking,

but I hadn’t missed the glances they kept sneaking

at each other when they thought no one was

watching. Michelle and Rue were seated on stools

at the breakfast bar that separated the dining room

from the kitchen, glasses of wine in hand. Rue was

in full-out snark mode as he told her about one of

his clients, a woman who had more money than she

knew what to do with and an obsession with

teacup Chihuahuas and spray-on tanner.

I was laughing at something he’d just said

when I heard the scrape of Asher’s key in the lock.

I hushed everyone and rushed to the entryway so

I’d be the first thing he saw when he walked in,

hoping he wouldn’t be mad about the liberties I’d

taken.

When the door swung inward and Asher saw

me there waiting for him with what was probably a

sappy, love-drunk grin on my face, his eyes lit up.

He gave me the sweetest, sexiest smile, and I

swear my heart almost melted right out of my

chest.

“Hey,” he said, stepping forward and yanking

me into his arms before I could respond. His mouth

came down on mine, hard and demanding, and I

kissed him back, promptly forgetting about the

roomful of people behind me until I heard someone

yell “Surprise!” and Asher jerked against me.

He pulled away from the kiss and looked

over my shoulder. “Hi, guys.” I saw his eyes

widen a bit and figured that was probably when he

spotted Josh. His gaze came back to my face, his

expression happy but more than a little bemused.

“What’s going on?”

“Surprise,” I said sheepishly. “Happy

housewarming. Or, well, apartment-warming.”

Asher laughed. “Apartment-warming, huh?”

He drew me close and pressed a kiss to my

forehead. “I can’t believe you did this. I love you.”

I looped my arms around his waist and

grinned up at him. “Love you too. I thought this

was cause to celebrate.” I lowered my voice.

“And later, we’ll continue with our christening. I

believe the kitchen is still on our list.”

Asher squeezed me and laughed again.

“Bathroom too,” he whispered in my ear. “Maybe

tonight we can do both.”

I couldn’t help it. I pulled his face to mine

and kissed him one more time, ignoring the

whistles and catcalls behind us. “I’d like that.”

Asher

“HEY, hon, what are you doing tomorrow?” I

called to Dusty. I was sitting up in bed with my

laptop on my thighs. He’d been in our bathroom

drying off from a shower. I’d meant to join him but

had gotten caught up in e-mails. Yeah, I didn’t miss

how I thought of it as “our” bathroom. I couldn’t

help it. Without Archer around, it felt more and

more like Dusty and I were sharing the apartment

and my room. He flopped down on the bed, dry

other than his hair, soft and fair and,
damn,
still

naked.

My ancient bed, which had seen me through

high school and college but hadn’t quite made the

move very well, squeaked in protest.

“Jeez, I didn’t eat that many enchiladas at

dinner,” Dusty joked. I set my computer on the

floor and crawled over him, kissing his newly

washed neck and nuzzling into damp, dandelion-

puffed hair.

“Sorry I spaced on the shower. I was just

setting things up for the shoot tomorrow.” My

kisses wandered around his collarbones and his

chest, making stops at both nipples. Dusty moaned

and arched into my touches. I loved how

responsive he was to me. How every little touch

was received with moans and reciprocating

touches. Already, Dusty was trying to get rid of my

sweats so I could be naked in bed with him. I lifted

my hips to comply.

“It’s okay. I get to touch you now.”

“Mmm-hmm. I asked you what you were

doing tomorrow,” I reminded him between kisses.

“I don’t know. Yoga maybe, and some

laundry. Nothing, really.”

My fingers slid around to play in his crease,

right where he liked it. “You wanna come with

me? You can be my hot assistant.”

Dusty chuckled. “Wait, you want me to come

with you to the porn shoot? Wouldn’t I just be in

your way?”

I shrugged. It had been an idle thought, but all

of a sudden I really did want him to come. Maybe

it was the last little taste left over from when I

thought he hated my job. “Yeah, I thought it would

be fun. Plus, I want you to see what I do—that it

really is tedious, and just work, and that there’s no

touching or anything.”

Dusty wriggled his leg between mine. “Hon, I

trust you. I really don’t need a demonstration.” He

did that thing with his hips, where he ground his

pretty cock against mine. It always drove me to

distraction.

“I know. I guess I just want to…
fuck
, it

doesn’t matter. Just keep doing that.”

A few breathless minutes later Dusty and I

were tangled up, breath slowing, fingers trailing up

and down each other’s backs. “I guess I could go

with you tomorrow. I’d love to watch you get all

professional and intense.”

“Um, it’s a gay shoot this time. Don’t you

think there will be better things to watch than me?”

Dusty cocked his head to consider it for a

moment. “Nope.” Then he smiled and dragged me

up off the bed. “C’mon, I need another shower, and

you’re not skipping out on this one.”

ON MY next free day I drove over to The Grove to

check out what they had at Crate & Barrel. I’d

decided somewhere along the way that I wanted a

new bed, and a dresser that actually matched it

rather than one from my parents’ garage. Moving

into my place had just felt so adult. I thought real

matching furniture, starting in my favorite room

and working my way out, would keep the adult

theme going. The dresser I currently owned still

had a half-peeled-off Mickey Mouse sticker from

when I was in kindergarten. Besides, if I got a

bigger dresser, one that had way too much room

for my stuff, then maybe Dusty would start to fill

the empty drawers with his.

There were a lot of choices. It took me a

while, and a few very patient sales reps, but I

found the set that was perfect. It was dark wood,

nearly black, big and sturdy, and the dresser was at

least twice as big as my current one. When I

stroked the wood posters of the bed, I easily

pictured Dusty and me waking up in it together,

kissing each other good morning, holding each

other at night. I had to admit the posters gave me a

few ideas too, but those, well, save those kinds of

thoughts for when I wasn’t in a crowded public

place.

“I’ll take the bed and the large dresser,” I told

the woman who’d patiently walked me through

nearly every bedroom set they had. I didn’t mean

to be a pain, but I’d wanted it to be perfect. I

thought the four-poster would be—for me and for

Dusty.

“I’m glad you found something that works for

you.” There might have been some strain around

her eyes, but I ignored it. “Let me take you to the

front register to check out.”

At the register, they arranged for a time to

drop the boxes with my new furniture pieces off at

my apartment, and asked, as usual, if I was

interested in opening a credit account. I always

said no whenever anyone asked me that. I had

enough regular bills to worry about without

something like that, but I didn’t want to just pay

cash for all the new furniture, so I filled out the

form and handed it back to the woman.

A few minutes later, I was shocked to find out

that they’d denied my credit application. Sure, I

didn’t have much credit history, but enough to

apply for a store card, for sure. Right? I got out my

debit card and paid for the furniture, but the whole

experience settled on me uncomfortably. All it had

taken at my new apartment was a reference and

first and last months’ rent. The store’s policy

couldn’t be that strict. They gave store cards to

high school kids all the time… I thought. I decided

I needed to check as soon as possible. I had a

feeling something was off.

With a reminder to myself that I needed to

look into my credit, I decided to take care of

something else while I was at it. I stopped by the

manager’s apartment and asked him for another

application. Yeah, it was jumping the gun, but

since I’d moved into the new place, Dusty hadn’t

spent a single night at his old house. I was making

room for him there as soon as he was ready—and I

wanted the paperwork to be there too. Nice and

official. I didn’t want to scare Dusty, though, so I

stuck the application in that drawer everyone

seems to have in their kitchen, full of picture

hangers, balls of rubber bands, and plug adaptors.

Nestled in the back, folded, was another step for

me… a way to bring Dusty even further into my

life. I’d be patient—sort of—but I was excited for

the day that Dusty would fill it out and blend his

belongings and his life the rest of the way with

mine.

Chapter Fifteen

Dusty

DAMN, I was tired. The words “bone weary”

came to mind. Between an extra-long shift at the

salon (ten to eight since I was covering a couple of

hours for Lane), worrying about Erik, who’d spent

most of the last week laid up in bed after coming

down with some mysterious stomach bug, and

helping Rue with Alice while Erik couldn’t, I felt

like I was walking around in a fog.

Thankfully, Erik was finally on the mend, and

Rue had said he didn’t need my help with Alice

anymore, so instead of going home at the end of my

shift, I was headed straight to Asher’s. I had some

clothes and a toothbrush there already, and even a

few pairs of flip-flops and some of my makeup. I

had to admit, over the last couple of weeks, it had