Homecoming Hearts Series Collection

by HJ Welch

  He reached over at one point, when Ashby was catching his breath and eating something for once, and squeezed his knee. Ashby looked at him with curiosity. “I’m glad you’re here,” Trent murmured, letting go of his leg. He meant it.

  One of Blake’s dance friends, Nessa, kept her eyes on Trent during dinner with obvious interest. Most people in attendance knew who he was but had the class not to approach him or act inappropriately when faced with a movie star. But Nessa, who was a very beautiful girl, was giving out just enough subtle body language to let Trent know the interest was there, if he were so inclined.

  She was sitting with another guy from the dance studio who Trent couldn’t remember the name of. He was an objectively handsome Black dude who was clearly intrigued by Ashby. Trent inched just a little bit closer to Ashby’s seat and topped up his wine.

  The speeches got off to a bumpy start with Mrs. Jackson giving a forty-five-minute slide show that was more a testimony to Blake’s career than it was Blake and Elion’s love. But then a slightly tipsy Mrs. Rodriguez stood and gave only a ten-minute toast, half of which was in Spanish, talking about how she knew her special boy would always find true love. Blake and Elion thanked the guests and everyone who had helped the wedding come together. Then they both spoke about each other. They held hands and said a few words about how they were the luckiest guys alive.

  That was when Trent realized Ashby was quietly weeping.

  Alarmed, Trent leaned over. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  Ashby grinned and hastily dabbed his eyes. This close, he looked like he might be wearing a shimmer on his eyelids and lips. That did strange things to Trent’s heart. “Sorry, yes,” he whispered back sheepishly and laughed. “I just love weddings. They look so happy.”

  Trent nodded. They were.

  Joey’s best man speech was full of hilarious anecdotes about his best friend. But he ended on how Blake had courageously come out to the whole world on stage at the Nickelodeon awards, essentially declaring his love for Elion in the process. At that, Ashby leaned over to Trent.

  “That moment changed my life,” he admitted in little more than a rasp. “It made me brave.”

  Trent regarded Ashby. “You’re always brave,” he said automatically. He was. He was fearless.

  Ashby blushed and looked back toward the front table.

  As they moved on to the evening wedding reception, a live band set up in the gazebo and a light-up disco dance floor was laid on the grass. Servers moved with ease offering a never-ending supply of bubbly. But as the evening wore on, Trent needed something a little stronger.

  Was he really going to do this? Was he going to see if Ashby wanted to put that one and only bed they conveniently had to good use?

  He needed whiskey.

  Blake and his crew were mesmerizing the crowd on the dance floor with their effortless skill. Ashby was in Elion and Joey’s attentive care. So it was easy to slip away and head inside to the deserted hotel bar.

  Almost deserted.

  A lone figure sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey just like Trent was planning on getting. Even from behind, he looked like a work of goddamned art.

  “Fuck me sideways ‘til Sunday,” Trent growled. It gave the guy just enough warning to turn as Trent ran and grabbed him, hugging him so hard he lifted him from his seat as he burst out laughing. “Reyse fucking Hickson, you absolute hero.”

  The final member of Below Zero hugged him back just as fiercely. “Holy shit, TJ, is it good to see you.”

  “Dude,” Trent enthused. He lifted Reyse up for a few seconds longer, his feet dangling while he laughed, then dropped him back down. “I didn’t think you were going to make it!”

  Reyse shook his head. “Me neither,” he said. “But I’ll never forgive myself for missing Joey’s big day, so I pulled some strings to make Blake’s.”

  He was ethereally beautiful in a boyish, charming way. Strong jaw, blond, highlighted hair and huge baby-blue eyes that could make whole civilizations drop to their knees. His frame was slim and he stood a few inches shorter than Trent. But he was built like a thoroughbred racehorse with all the muscles that made teenage girls and their mothers wail equally in delight. He was every kind of threat. Gorgeous in both masculine and feminine ways, talented at singing, dancing and acting, and a thoroughly nice guy to boot.

  He and Trent had always been close in the band. It was therefore not surprising that Trent was the most forgiving of Reyse’s phenomenally successful solo career, or the fact that the band’s label dropped them to specifically focus on Reyse alone. Trent was happy for him. He deserved it all.

  It didn’t mean he hadn’t missed him like crazy.

  “Fuck, how long’s it been?” he asked while looking him over. “The guys are going to lose their shit, man.”

  “Too long,” said Reyse. He sounded weary. He turned to the barman who was doing a very good job not swallowing his own tongue at the sight of TJ Charles and Reyse Hickson alone with him in his bar. “Another two, my man,” Reyse said with effortless charm, raising his tumbler to him. The guy nodded and poured the drinks while Reyse and Trent sat down on the bar stools.

  “You in town just for tonight?” Trent asked.

  Reyse sighed. “Sadly. I couldn’t even make the ceremony. I hope the guys understand.”

  “Shit, yeah,” Trent said without doubt.

  “They all here?”

  Trent scoffed and sighed. “I think you missed Raiden. He and his partner are, um, enthusiastic when it comes to public settings.” They were undoubtedly already fucking in a closet somewhere. Or on their balcony. Or in their bathtub. Trent had heard it all from Rai.

  “Damn,” said Reyse with a sigh. “I really thought…it’s been three years since we’ve all been in the same room, you know?”

  “Have breakfast with us tomorrow,” Trent said easily.

  Reyse shook his head. “I’m heading back to the airport in two hours,” he said, checking his hundred-thousand-dollar watch. He sounded so tired. But then he grinned and finished off his drink so he could start the next one with Trent. “So, give me the headlines, bro! Congrats on The Fixer, by the way. Joey said you’ve got a date with you?”

  The way his words edged up in tone at the end told Trent that Joey had filled Reyse in with all the juicy gossip.

  But rather than get angry and deny it, something in Trent broke. This was Reyse. “We said we’d come here as friends,” said, running his finger around the whiskey tumbler, making it sing.

  “But?” Reyse prompted.

  “But…” Trent said. Fuck it. It was time to let the truth out. “He likes me and…I think I might like him.”

  Reyse nodded. “But you’re scared?” He didn’t even pause in his stride at the idea of Trent potentially dating a guy.

  Trent nodded miserably. “Not like I don’t wanna be queer,” he clarified with a frown. “But he’s too important to take the chance on breaking his heart. Because I don’t know what I want.”

  Reyse studied him for a minute. Then, checking the bartender was a respectful distance away, he leaned in and put his lips close to Trent’s ear.

  “Do you want to run your hands over his skin?” he whispered, his words hot and sultry. “Do you want to kiss him and make him feel so good? Do you want to hold him and protect him and make him come so goddamn hard he screams your name?”

  Trent didn’t realize he was shaking until Reyse pulled away. Trent could feel his cock straining in his pants. He took a shaky breath, then a big gulp of whiskey. “Okay,” he rasped. “When you put it like that…”

  Reyse smiled kindly, then squeezed Trent’s leg briefly. “Don’t be me,” he said. Trent caught the melancholy in his tone all of a sudden, no doubt despite Reyse’s best efforts to keep it out. “Don’t watch your life pass you by. Love is so fucking precious. If he makes your heart sing, don’t let the ‘what ifs’ paralyze you. Besides,” he added, lightening his mood. “If you really are queer, that makes a full Below Zero s
et.”

  Trent glanced up immediately, but the bartender was on his phone, too far away to hear their soft voices over the noise of the party through the doors outside. Reyse was too sensible to risk being overheard.

  “I don’t want to sound dramatic,” Reyse said after downing his drink. “But…do it for me. One of us should have the choice.”

  It was like the floodgates opened in Trent’s heart. He had permission. He would just ask Ashby if this was what he wanted, then go for it. If every couple agonized over what might happen down the line before they’d even tried, no one would ever get together.

  “Okay,” he said shakily.

  He followed Reyse’s example and knocked back the last of his drink, the alcohol thrumming nicely in his system. But this wasn’t like Joey and Gabe’s wedding, where he’d gotten blackout drunk. He still had his wits about him. His cock was still good to go.

  “You coming out?” he asked.

  Reyse shook his head. “You have your moment,” he said. “Go get your man. I’ll make an entrance in a minute.”

  To someone else, that might have sounded horrendously indulgent. But Trent knew it was extremely thoughtful on his friend’s part. “Thanks, man,” he said, stepping in for one last embrace. “It was so fucking good to see you.”

  “You too,” Reyse said.

  The party was in full swing. Trent felt bad as he approached Ashby, knowing he was going to ask him to leave. But luckily, he was lingering by the dance floor, alone. This was Trent’s chance. He was sick of running away.

  The dark of the night went some way to masking Trent as he slipped his hand lightly over Ashby’s waist. He looked over at him, startled. “Hi,” Ashby said, almost framing it like a question.

  Trent was trembling again, this time with nerves. But he thought of Reyse’s provocative words and found his resolve. “Hi,” he said back. “Um, do you maybe want to call it a night?”

  Ashby blinked several times. “Uh, sure,” he said. “Do you want to say goodbye to people?”

  That would blow Trent’s confidence for sure. He shook his head. “We’ll see them at breakfast.”

  Ashby nodded. “Okay,” he said. He offered Trent a shaky smile, then reached down to take his hand, entwining their fingers together. It felt so good Trent’s knees almost buckled. “Lead the way.”

  Trent kept Ashby close to him as they navigated the crowd, not making eye contact with anyone. They didn’t meet a soul as they went through the front door of the manor house and up the stairs to the third floor.

  “Um,” said Ashby as they approached their room. He was spinning his card key between his long fingers. “Did you – uh – want to come in?” His English accent got more pronounced when he was anxious, Trent had noticed. He was obviously trying to make a joke of the situation, inviting him into their shared room. But Trent was done fooling around.

  He touched the small of Ashby’s back. “I’d love to,” murmured.

  He could see Ashby’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulped. “Okay,” he whispered, then turned to swipe his card and let them inside.

  As soon as the door closed behind them in the dimly lit room, Ashby shrugged off his suit jacket and walked over to the full-length mirror. His hands were trembling as they attempted to undo the complicated knot he’d done for his tie. Trent removed his own jacket more slowly, then moved to stand beside Ashby.

  “Here,” he said softly.

  Ashby turned to face him so he could loosen the silk. “Thank you,” Ashby said. There was a tremble to his voice too.

  Trent worked silently to free Ashby from the pink tie, then let it fall to the carpet by their feet. His hands were already hovering there anyway, so Trent rested them on Ashby’s chest and rubbed the tips of his collar between finger and thumb. So far, there was nothing freaking him out about putting his hands on another man.

  “Thank you for coming with me today,” he said, focusing on the hollow of Ashby’s throat. It looked so kissable. Would Ashby like being kissed there? “It meant a lot.”

  “Of course,” Ashby replied with a little squeak. “That’s what friends do for each other, right? They help them out when they get in a pickle. We couldn’t have you flying solo. ‘Going stag,’ as you Yanks say.”

  Trent laughed, a nervous response to Ashby’s own unease. But he didn’t want to cause him to fret. He wanted the opposite, in fact. He frowned as Ashby’s face fell and he took a step away.

  “Ashby,” he said. He placed his hands flat on Ashby’s chest to steady him. It worked. This was the point of no return. “I…I’ve been thinking.”

  “Oh?” Ashby replied, licking his lips. Fuck, Trent wanted to kiss them even more than his throat. “That sounds like that sort of thing that requires a stiff drink to accompany it,” Ashby said. It sounded like he was aiming for a light, casual tone and not really achieving it. “Thinking, I mean. Always a tricky one. I think that thinking – yes – um – stiff – sorry – would you like one as well?”

  Trent couldn’t think of a time he’d less wanted a drink. He bit his own lip. “I’d like…” he said, his gaze lingering on Ashby’s mouth. “Uh…”

  Ashby surprised him by resting his own hands on top of Trent’s. The action calmed him and helped clear his thoughts. He could do this. The worst Ashby could do was reject him. Knowing him, he’d even do that with kindness. But every signal Trent was getting was that he was into this, too.

  So, Trent pulled one of his hands free and cupped the side of Ashby’s face, making him gasp as he gently brushed his cheek with his thumb.

  “What would you like, Trent?” Ashby asked, his voice sincere as he gazed up at Trent. “What do you want?” He lifted his own hand and touched his fingertips gently to the middle of Trent’s forehead where he was no doubt frowning.

  He wanted more of that. More hands on more skin. Less clothes. He wanted…

  “I want you,” Trent whispered.

  Trent watched as Ashby stilled completely. Even his breathing seemed to stop. “You want…?”

  “You,” Trent said, feeling his confidence growing.

  He closed his eyes and decided that from now on, he would have no more hesitations. When he opened them again, he was looking directly into Ashby’s teal ones, full of trust and hope.

  “I know what I said…before,” Trent said, thinking back to the last time Ashby had invited him in. “I know you’re a guy. But someone told me to stop overthinking things.”

  “Oh,” said Ashby shakily. “That’s, um, nice. Isn’t it? I guess...uh, well-”

  “Ashby,” Trent growled and raised an eyebrow.

  Ashby tilted his head and looked back at Trent. “Uh, yes?”

  “Stop overthinking,” Trent said gently.

  He smiled and rubbed his fingers against Ashby’s collarbones through his shirt.

  “Okay,” Ashby said, nodding. “Okay, no more thinking. Um, does that mean I can kiss you instead?”

  Relief and happiness flowed through Trent so much he thought he might actually be glowing.

  “Yeah,” Trent said, not allowing nerves to get the better of him. “Let’s try starting there.”

  20

  Ashby

  Ashby felt like time had stopped all together.

  Trent wanted to kiss him. Was waiting for Ashby to kiss him.

  This couldn’t be happening. Ashby had promised himself no men while he was away and he especially shouldn’t be getting involved with a straight guy.

  If there was the slightest possibility Trent wasn’t straight, though, Ashby was willing to be the one to find out.

  Housekeeping had left a couple of lamps on by the lone bed that had seemed so ominous yesterday. It was just enough for Ashby to make out everything of Trent. His perfectly trimmed stubbled jaw. His glossy, dark hair falling to his shoulders. The lines of his sculpted muscles under his white shirt.

  Ashby was still dressed aside from his jacket and tie. He was too afraid to take the plunge and kiss Trent just yet. So
to ease himself in, he reached up and began gently pulling at the cravat around Trent’s neck, loosening the material to expose his skin.

  “There,” Ashby whispered. He dropped the material to the floor where it pooled alongside his own tie, the two pink shades almost identical. “Now we’re even.”

  He expected Trent to laugh at him or tell him to hurry up and kiss him. Instead, he watched silently as Ashby next got to work on the buttons of Trent’s waistcoat. There were only three, so he was soon slipping his hands over Trent’s rock-hard shoulders, pushing the silky garment off his body and onto the carpet.

  Ashby exhaled slowly. He would have thought that Trent watching him would have made him feel anxious. But that was what was so different about Trent and the likes of Gordon. Trent made him feel empowered.

  That was the last time Ashby would allow himself to think about Gordon. He was the past. Ashby wasn’t sure what the future might hold, but his present was standing patiently in front of him. Trent. Ashby couldn’t quite believe this was really happening, but it was.

  He took his time tracing his fingers over Trent’s body, exploring the well-defined lines hiding beneath the cotton. Every now and again he looked up to gauge Trent’s reaction. He was breathing heavily. They both were. Ashby was trembling in anticipation, his pulse loud in his ears. But although he was clearly affected, Trent didn’t react other than to watch Ashby work.

  “Is this okay?” Ashby asked, his voice a mere rasp.

  “Yes,” Trent replied.

  Ashby ran his hands up Trent’s flanks and over his pecs. “Have you…really never done this with a man before?”

  Trent shook his head. “No.”

  Ashby bit his lip. His hands came to rest on Trent’s biceps. “And…you’re sure you want to do this with me?” Ashby thought that was lunacy. He wasn’t worthy of such an honor. “You could have anyone. I’m…I’m just so...” He trailed off in embarrassment.

  But at that, Trent did finally move. His hands lifted immediately to cradle both sides of Ashby’s face. “You’re so amazing,” Trent said. “I don’t know why you can’t see that.”