Textual Relations
Table of Contents
Also by Cate
Title
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Evolutionary psychology professor Henry Hathaway is ready to spend his birthday the same way he does every year: a good teeth cleaning followed by lunch with his brother. But when he receives a wrong-number text confirming the details of a date, he does what any considerate person would—he goes to meet them and explain why they've been stood up.
Asher Wescott hadn't expected his blind date to go well, because when do they ever? Henry shows up instead, and things are suddenly looking up. Socially awkward and attached to his routines, Henry is nevertheless one of the most charming and kind men Asher has met in a long time.
Too bad he's not Henry's type.
An accidental date, an impulsive kiss, and a few conflicted feelings later, can Asher get Henry to see the world—and him—in a different light?
Zero Hour Series
A Forced Silence
A Fallen Heart
A Forgotten Life (Coming Soon)
Hope Cove Series
Brokenhearted
Wholehearted
Ironhearted
Newport Boys Series
Keeping Sweets
Resurrecting Elliott
Standalone Stories
Married for a Month
The Mistletoe Effect
His Fairy Godfather
Thirty Things
Tasting Notes
The Storm Before the Calm
Bloom Box (Heartsville)
Red Runs Through (Piece Us Back Together)
Brick by Brick
Five Ways a Boy Can Break Your Heart
Riding the Board
Published by Cate Ashwood
Textual Relations © 2017 Cate Ashwood
This is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
All rights reserved worldwide. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
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Cover Design © 2017 Cate Ashwood
http://www.cateashwooddesigns.com
Edited by One Love Editing
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Content Warning: This work is classified as a gay romance. It contains graphic language and sexual content between two adult men. Not intended for anyone under the age of 18.
Also by Cate
Title
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Thank you so much to my usual crew. You guys are amazing. Julia, Sandra, Will, there aren’t enough thank yous in the universe. I don’t know what I would do without you guys.
And to all the readers and reviewers, thank you for taking the time to read. I am living my dream and it’s because of you that it’s possible. I am forever grateful.
Every year on my birthday, I do the same thing, and this year was no different.
I had my teeth cleaned.
It wasn’t just about oral health, although that is very important, but my birthday was a good prompt to get a checkup on things in my life. It was a yearly reminder that I wasn’t just getting old—older, anyway—but that maintenance and taking care of myself was necessary.
So, the morning of my thirty-second birthday, I got up, got dressed, and had my plaque sandblasted away by a perky young dental assistant wearing Care Bear scrubs.
I ran my tongue over my smooth teeth as I waited for my brother, Calvin, to show up. Yet another birthday tradition was to meet at Happy Fortune Noodle House for dinner. Meals were served cafeteria-style, the décor looked like something out of a bad ’80s music video, and the service left a lot to be desired, but when it came to their menu, no one did Chinese food better.
“Please tell me you didn’t spend your birthday at the dentist again,” Calvin said as he sat across from me in the booth.
“You’re undervaluing the importance of good oral hygiene. I don’t even want to know when you had your last cleaning.”
Calvin huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes at me. He’d been responding to me the same way since he was thirteen years old.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t progressed past thirteen in a lot of ways.
“It was sad when you turned twenty-one, and possibly sadder now that you’re in your midthirties.”
“Early thirties,” I corrected.
“Sad no matter what demographic you fall into.”
“Some people believe that being responsible is a commendable trait.”
“Women?” he asked. “Do women think that?”
“I don’t know what it says about Holly that you’re unaware of this, but in fact, most do, yes,” I said, feeling a little defensive. “It’s an evolutionary response, hardwired into their DNA. Women are attracted to men they know can provide for them and their offspring, and ability to maintain basic hygiene is one indicator of physical suitability.”
“Shit, Henry. I wasn’t being serious. How can you be this clueless? It’s a wonder to me that you’ve ever had a girlfriend.”
I stared at him indignantly. It always came around to this. I couldn’t understand Calvin’s preoccupation with my love life. I opened my mouth to say so, but he kept talking.
“Judging by the outfit you’re wearing, you don’t ever plan on having another one. Any chance you had was obliterated when you put on—” He motioned with his hands. “—whatever that is… Are those elbow patches?” He waved dismissively. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”
“How did this turn into a conversation about my desirability to women? I date. Women seem to like me very much.”
“Enough to touch your dick?”
God, my brother could be crass. I glared at him again.
“All I’m saying is that if you made an effort, you’d have someone to spend your birthday with.”
“I’m spending it with you,” I countered.
“I meant with someone who wants to touch your dick, Henry.”
“Oh.�
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I probably should have been able to formulate a more appropriate response, but maybe Calvin was right, to some extent, anyway. I wasn’t lonely per se. I liked being on my own. It gave me time to do the things I enjoyed doing like reading and watching documentaries. I’d had relationships, one of which was serious. I’m not that unappealing that women avoid me altogether, but something always happens—or fails to happen—and the relationship inevitably deteriorates.
Sometimes being alone is easier. And truthfully, I’d never mastered aptitude in social situations. There was always something clunky or blundering about the way I interacted with new people… or familiar people… people at all, really.
Being the odd duck of my family had never bothered me all that much, but for a second, I wondered what it would be like to be Calvin. How much easier would it be to walk through life knowing how to relate to people and what the norms were that made typical exchanges so predictable?
Nothing about them seemed predictable to me.
I’d spent thousands of hours studying human behavior and the motivations behind it. From an evolutionary standpoint, most behaviors were easily explained, but studying a concept objectively and possessing the ability to implement that knowledge in a concrete way were two very different things.
“You wait here. I’ll go get the food,” Calvin said as he stood. “What do you want?”
“I’d like an order of orange chicken, an order of the special chow mein, two spring rolls—” I paused, considering, then added, “And a double order of the Szechuan beef.”
“Whoa, really celebrating this birthday right, huh?”
“Indulgence is the word of the day. Besides, this isn’t my first birthday here with you. I know you’re going to devour at least one order before I even get my napkin unfolded.”
“That’ll teach you for using a napkin,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.
“How we emerged from the same uterus is a miracle of genetics,” I muttered to myself.
“I heard that!” he called back.
Calvin returned a few minutes later with two trays laden with food. It looked like he’d taken my order and doubled it.
“Did you grow a second stomach while you were waiting in line?” I asked.
“Leftovers for lunch tomorrow. Scores me points with Holly because she hates cooking and loves Chinese.”
“Your food scraps score you points?”
“Yep,” he said proudly.
“Maybe I really don’t understand women.”
Calvin laughed. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
I stood up. “Be right back. You forgot the napkins.”
When I reached the little display of soy sauce, chopsticks, forks and knives, and salt and pepper, I realized Calvin had forgotten all those items as well. I grabbed what I could carry and headed back to the table in time to see Calvin eating a piece of sweet-and-sour pork with his hands.
I opened my mouth to scold him, but before I could, he picked up my phone with his sticky fingers and slid it toward me. “Your phone buzzed while you were gone.”
I glanced at the screen and saw a number I didn’t recognize. Grabbing a napkin, I wiped the sticky residue from the sides and set it back down.
“You’re not going to check the message?” Calvin asked.
“It’s a text. No one texts me but you.”
“You never know.”
“I have a pretty good idea. If it’s not you, it’s spam… offers to become a secret shopper or to enter to win a cruise.”
I shrugged it off and dove into my Szechuan beef, wondering as I did every year why we didn’t come more often. The food warranted more than one annual trip, but we never seemed to make it here otherwise.
Several minutes later, my phone buzzed again.
“Someone’s awfully desperate to have you on their secret shopper team,” Calvin teased.
“It certainly sounds like it. I’m signing you up.”
I picked up my phone and swiped to unlock the screen. The message flashed into view, except it wasn’t from a scam recruiter service.
Haven’t heard from you yet but phone battery’s @ 3%. See you tonight.
I looked and saw that I’d received multiple messages at various times, all from the same number. I scrolled to the first one.
Hey. It’s Ash. Still on for tonight? I’ll meet you at Contempo on the ave @ 7:00. Table in the corner by the window. Can’t wait to meet you.
“That’s strange.” I checked the number again to be sure I didn’t recognize it. Perhaps someone had accidentally chosen the wrong contact in their list. Did I meet a woman named Ashley and forget? I could be a tad forgetful, but I was fairly certain I’d remember giving my phone number to a woman.
“What?” Calvin asked.
“Some woman is text messaging me about a date.” I passed my phone over to him so he could read the messages. His eyes lit up as they scrolled across the text.
“She sounds hot.”
“You can’t possibly get that from a simple line of text.”
Pitching his tone low and speaking in a breathy voice, he read again. “Table in the corner by the window. Can’t wait to meet you.” He laughed. “Best birthday present ever,” Calvin said, grinning.
“You didn’t set this up, did you?” It was sad I felt the need to ask, but I wouldn’t put it past him. My sex life was a great source of amusement for him.
“Nope. Not me. Probably a wrong number, but maybe it’s the universe telling you it’s been too long since you got laid.”
I frowned. “I think that’s highly unlikely. I’ll text her back and let her know she’s got the wrong number.”
I typed out the quick message and hit Send, confident that Ash’s phone battery had likely lived long enough to receive it, then tucked my phone away to finish my dinner.
The longer I sat there, watching my brother shovel mounds of orange chicken into his mouth, the more I thought about the person who’d sent the message. Her “can’t wait to meet you” suggested it was a first date. What if my text hadn’t gone through in time? What if she ended up sitting alone at a bar waiting for someone who was never going to arrive? It was getting closer and closer to seven o’clock.
I picked my phone up again and reread the message, noting there wasn’t a notification that my reply had been received.
When I looked up, Calvin was staring at me. “Rethinking that job as a secret shopper?”
“No. Thinking of going to meet this woman.”
Calvin let out a whoop loud enough to have every person in the restaurant turning to gawk at him. “Dude. That’s awesome. I knew you had it in you! Swooping in and stealing some unsuspecting guy’s date.” He wiped a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. “I’m so proud of you right now.”
I threw my napkin at him.
“I’m not going there to steal some other man’s date,” I insisted. “I don’t have any plans for tonight, and going there is the right thing to do.”
Calvin looked unimpressed.
“The bar she mentioned isn’t far from my place. I’m going to stop in, explain the confusion, and say good night.”
“Fine, but it seems like a waste of a perfectly good setup to me.”
I ignored his comment and, feeling better about the whole situation, grabbed a new napkin, placed it in my lap, and finished my meal. I would never admit it out loud, but the prospect of doing something different than my usual night in of reading did seem somewhat exciting.
Lunch finished, Calvin packed up the leftovers to go. “You sure you don’t want to come spend the evening with Holly and me? We’re going to see the new Marvel movie.”
“No, thanks.”
“This is the closest thing you’ve had to an actual date in months. Years?”
“Months,” I said indignantly.
“Still pitiful, but I’m glad you’re at least making the effort. But for God’s sake, change your clothes, and pick something
without elbow patches.”
Although I’d walked past Contempo countless times before, I’d never actually been inside. The décor was slick, modern, and the patrons, of whom there were many, seemed to rather enjoy the ambiance. The sleek graphite tables were sparse, placed at odd intervals on glossy white floors. Futuristic-looking light fixtures hung above each one, making the room feel like an ethereal spaceship.
I felt out of place. I half expected everyone to turn and look at me when I walked in, but like many past events in my life, no one seemed to notice I’d arrived. I checked my watch—seven on the dot—and scanned the room, searching for the table in the corner.
I found it, but only one of the chairs sat vacant. The other was occupied, not by Ashley, a woman I’d built up in my head to be a beautiful young brunette, but by a man who, although he was seated, I could tell was tall and incredibly broad. His eyes found mine as I hesitated.
Perhaps this was Ashley’s date. It was possible she realized she had sent the message to the wrong number and corrected her error. The man didn’t look away, and the awkwardness that always seemed to creep up during social exchanges was particularly potent tonight.
This had been a colossal mistake.
He was looking at me so expectantly, and without realizing what I was doing, I had started to walk toward him.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I got up to the table. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”
“Excuse me?” the man said.
I pulled out my phone and held it up, as though that might clarify things for him. He looked at me like I might be insane. I can’t say I blamed him. “I got a text message from the woman you’re supposed to be meeting here tonight. She texted the wrong number.”
“What makes you think I’m meeting a woman here tonight?”
“Oh. You’re not waiting for Ashley? She said she’d be at the corner table at seven. And it’s—” I consulted my watch once more. “—seven oh four.”
“Could I see, please?” he asked.
“Uh. Sure.”
I pulled up my text history and handed him the phone.