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Story: The Pucking Wrong Rookie
“Sounds dangerous. What if I need to borrow your awful clothes, Socks? What will I do then?” His gaze turned to me, and a charming grin slid across his face. “Who do we have here? She can’t be yours, she’s far too pretty.”
Logan snorted.
“Sloane,” Logan said quickly, stepping between us before I could take Asher’s outstretched hand. “This is Asher. My…friend.”
“Best friend. No need to be so modest,” Asher corrected with a wink. “Nice to meet you, Sloane.”
“No winking,” Logan griped. “And no touching.”
Asher’s grin widened at Logan’s behavior. “This is going to be fun.”
“Why are you here again?” Logan asked.
“I wanted to see your pretty face,” Asher replied, dropping onto the couch like he’d been invited as he continued to snack on his sandwich. “Also, I’m coming to your last game. And I wanted dinner. So there’s that.”
Logan growled, batting at his hand as Asher tried to grab the iPad. “Are those my pickles? You know I have a limited amount.”
Asher made a show of taking a huge bite of his sandwich.
“Just for that, I’m going to ask for extra spicy yellow curry. You’ll be shitting all night, and it will serve you right.”
Asher looked at me, grinning like he’d just won an award. “He’s so happy I’m here. Can’t you tell?”
* * *
Dinner was chaos, mostly becauseAsherwas chaos. He’d unpacked the takeout like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, talking a mile a minute while Logan looked like he was reconsidering every life choice that had brought him to this moment.
“So,” Asher said innocently, between bites of his hopefully not spicy curry, “has Logan told you about the time he accidentally glued his hand to his hair?”
I grinned into my water. “No. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t…”
Logan groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Everything he’s about to say is a lie.”
Asher rubbed his hands together…gleefully. “Picture it. Little Logan, about ten years old, with a bottle of superglue and the bright idea to fix his hockey stick. Only the glue he grabbed from his dad’s drawer was some kind ofcrazysuperglue, and he got it all over his hand and then…the idiot decided to push his hair out of his face.”
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as Logan muttered, “I was a child.”
“It gets better,” Asher continued, undeterred. “My mom had to take him to the ER, and they had to cut the glue off with this tiny scalpel. The whole time, Logan’s sitting there with his hand stuck to his hair, insisting it wasn’t a big deal. They had to cut a huge chunk of it off, and he had a huge bald spot for half of fourth grade.”
I giggled, and Logan shot me a betrayed look as he pushed a hand through his blond hair, like he was making sure there were no bald spots to be found. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still laughing. “But I’m picturing it, and I can totally see it.”
“Thank you,” Asher said, raising his glass in a mock toast. “But don’t worry, I defended his honor. They stopped making fun of him after I punched JohnButkissright in the nose.”
“First, I don’t think his name wasButkiss. I’m pretty sure that was a made-up name you gave him. And second, that didn’t happen untilhalfwaythrough fourth grade, because you were the one making fun of me along with everyone else before that.”
“Even then I was worried about you getting too big of a head,” Asher said benevolently as he bowed. “I’ve always taken care of you.” He tapped his chin. “And I reallydothink that was his name.”
“Really? You’vealwaystaken care of me?” Logan said dryly. “Was ityoutaking care ofmewhen you decided to have sex with Claire Mulligan in front of her ex-boyfriend’s locker?”
Asher huffed. “You weren’t even that helpful in that situation. I almost died anyway.”
Logan’s smirk was wide when he turned to me. “Claire’s ex happened to walk in as they were going at it, but he wasn’t actually an ex…and he wasmaaaad. She got scared, tried to spray the guy with pepper spray, but accidentally got Asher instead. He’s naked, running out of the basketball locker rooms, screaming about water. I find him outside the athletic building, his head in the snow, ass and balls out for all the world to see.”
“So how did you save him?”
“I told him I had extra clothes in the locker room,” Logan said proudly.
Logan snorted.
“Sloane,” Logan said quickly, stepping between us before I could take Asher’s outstretched hand. “This is Asher. My…friend.”
“Best friend. No need to be so modest,” Asher corrected with a wink. “Nice to meet you, Sloane.”
“No winking,” Logan griped. “And no touching.”
Asher’s grin widened at Logan’s behavior. “This is going to be fun.”
“Why are you here again?” Logan asked.
“I wanted to see your pretty face,” Asher replied, dropping onto the couch like he’d been invited as he continued to snack on his sandwich. “Also, I’m coming to your last game. And I wanted dinner. So there’s that.”
Logan growled, batting at his hand as Asher tried to grab the iPad. “Are those my pickles? You know I have a limited amount.”
Asher made a show of taking a huge bite of his sandwich.
“Just for that, I’m going to ask for extra spicy yellow curry. You’ll be shitting all night, and it will serve you right.”
Asher looked at me, grinning like he’d just won an award. “He’s so happy I’m here. Can’t you tell?”
* * *
Dinner was chaos, mostly becauseAsherwas chaos. He’d unpacked the takeout like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, talking a mile a minute while Logan looked like he was reconsidering every life choice that had brought him to this moment.
“So,” Asher said innocently, between bites of his hopefully not spicy curry, “has Logan told you about the time he accidentally glued his hand to his hair?”
I grinned into my water. “No. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t…”
Logan groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Everything he’s about to say is a lie.”
Asher rubbed his hands together…gleefully. “Picture it. Little Logan, about ten years old, with a bottle of superglue and the bright idea to fix his hockey stick. Only the glue he grabbed from his dad’s drawer was some kind ofcrazysuperglue, and he got it all over his hand and then…the idiot decided to push his hair out of his face.”
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as Logan muttered, “I was a child.”
“It gets better,” Asher continued, undeterred. “My mom had to take him to the ER, and they had to cut the glue off with this tiny scalpel. The whole time, Logan’s sitting there with his hand stuck to his hair, insisting it wasn’t a big deal. They had to cut a huge chunk of it off, and he had a huge bald spot for half of fourth grade.”
I giggled, and Logan shot me a betrayed look as he pushed a hand through his blond hair, like he was making sure there were no bald spots to be found. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still laughing. “But I’m picturing it, and I can totally see it.”
“Thank you,” Asher said, raising his glass in a mock toast. “But don’t worry, I defended his honor. They stopped making fun of him after I punched JohnButkissright in the nose.”
“First, I don’t think his name wasButkiss. I’m pretty sure that was a made-up name you gave him. And second, that didn’t happen untilhalfwaythrough fourth grade, because you were the one making fun of me along with everyone else before that.”
“Even then I was worried about you getting too big of a head,” Asher said benevolently as he bowed. “I’ve always taken care of you.” He tapped his chin. “And I reallydothink that was his name.”
“Really? You’vealwaystaken care of me?” Logan said dryly. “Was ityoutaking care ofmewhen you decided to have sex with Claire Mulligan in front of her ex-boyfriend’s locker?”
Asher huffed. “You weren’t even that helpful in that situation. I almost died anyway.”
Logan’s smirk was wide when he turned to me. “Claire’s ex happened to walk in as they were going at it, but he wasn’t actually an ex…and he wasmaaaad. She got scared, tried to spray the guy with pepper spray, but accidentally got Asher instead. He’s naked, running out of the basketball locker rooms, screaming about water. I find him outside the athletic building, his head in the snow, ass and balls out for all the world to see.”
“So how did you save him?”
“I told him I had extra clothes in the locker room,” Logan said proudly.
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