by HJ Welch
So much of his life – especially his brand as a singer and an actor – was built around his lady-killer ways. But he’d always been too afraid to commit to those women, some of whom had been downright phenomenal. If he couldn’t find happiness with them, what made him think he could be happy with Ashby?
That he could make Ashby happy?
Fucking hell. He was going to drive himself insane. He woke up Monday morning in his snowy cabin with a raging hardon and so close to coming, of course dreaming about his and Ashby’s night together. He angrily took himself off for a cold shower and refused to jerk off. Until he could sort out his fucking head, he didn’t get to masturbate over his friend. That was gross.
He came to the rather pitiful realization that in that moment, he would have given anything to talk to his mom. He never wanted to sugarcoat the past and pretend they were best friends. But at least she understood matters of the heart. She always listened to him, even if he called out of the blue after weeks or even months of no contact.
But she was gone.
Trent sighed as he stood in his open-plan cabin and watched the snow drifting down on the other side of the window. It was a gray day with heavy cloud cover, matching his mood perfectly.
Well, fuck it. He’d promised he would go talk to his dad anyway about a memorial. If that went well, maybe he’d feel better about this Ashby thing. Maybe it would go so well Trent would actually have the courage to ask his dad about what he should do. He couldn’t really see that happening, but it was enough to get him out the door.
Monday was change-over day at the resort. Most people booked their vacations to arrive and leave then. So the main lodge was a bit hectic when Trent arrived. He had to push his way through a lot of people with even more luggage. One of the reasons he liked snowboarding was that skis were just so enormous to lug around with you. He almost got smashed over the head a couple of times as he shouldered his way toward the gift shop.
At least this would mean the resort was even quieter now. This close to the end of the season meant more people would likely be leaving than arriving. Trent looked forward to a bit more peace and quiet, even if it did mean there was no longer enough snow to board on.
Eventually, he made it to the gift store where a newly arrived family were taking their time picking out a fridge magnet. Trent’s dad saw him from behind the counter and nodded. At least it was an acknowledgment. Trent hung back while the family debated over a snowy mountain and a cartoon wolf character.
Merlin realized Trent was in the shop and came clattering out from behind the counter. At least he wasn’t attached to his leash, so he managed not to knock anything off the shelves as he tore down the aisle to greet Trent, who chuckled as he dropped to his knees and ruffled the little guy’s fur. He was so excited he was slobbering all over Trent’s hands.
“I swear you’ve already grown,” he murmured, grinning in spite of his black mood. It was hard to be upset when such a happy ball of fluff was hopping around as if seeing you was The Best Thing Ever.
“Can I pet your puppy?” Trent looked up to see a pair of big hazel eyes. The girl was about three or four with poker-straight brown hair and bangs that looked to have been cut using a ruler. She was so entranced by the dog she hardly even glanced at Trent.
“Sure,” he said, looking up to make sure it was okay with Mom and Dad. Their son would have been around eight and he turned to them to see if he could join in too. With their permission, he cautiously came over. Miraculously, Merlin calmed a little, letting the kids stroke his fur.
They were a classic nuclear family. Mom, dad, son and daughter. Picture perfect. Trent felt a wave of hurt and confusion roll over him again. At least when his mom had been alive, they had tried to be a regular family. But that had never been good enough for Trent. He’d been ungrateful in his desperation to escape and make a life for himself in the big wide world. And now his mom was gone.
Did he even want kids? Was what he was looking at a possibility for his future? Or was he doomed to keep throwing away relationship after relationship?
If he was losing touch with his past and had no idea where his future was going, what chance did he really have with the present?
He did his best to smile and waved the family off once they’d bought their mountain magnet. The kids called their goodbyes to Merlin, who strained against Trent holding him back by his collar. Finally, it was just him and his dad in the shop, alone.
“How was the wedding?” his dad asked.
He didn’t quite look at Trent over his smudged glasses. Instead, he rearranged the colorful cigarette lighters standing up in a cardboard display box. He wasn’t putting them in any order. Just swapping one random arrangement for another.
Of course he remembered it was Blake and Elion’s big day. He was always good like that, reminding Trent to get cards for his mom’s birthday and Mother’s Day. He was caring. But he still didn’t smile at Trent or show him any affection. He was still just as pissed as the day Trent had returned home.
Trent didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was about to reach a breaking point. Slowly, he approached the counter with Merlin surprisingly obedient by his feet.
“I don’t know how I can make this better,” Trent said. His throat was tight. “I know you’re mad I wasn’t there for you when…two years ago. But, Dad. What could I have done? She was gone in an instant.”
“You could have visited more than twice a year!” his dad snapped. He turned his blazing eyes to Trent and held his gaze unflinchingly. For such a small guy, he was suddenly shaking with rage that seemed to make him grow in stature. “You could have called more than every other month! You could have made sure your mom knew you loved her before she died.”
Trent stood staring at his dad, frozen. As much as his dad gave the impression of suddenly growing, Trent felt like he’d radically shrunk. He was a dumb little kid again with his head in the clouds, selfishly shunning hard work and a real career in pursuit of fame and fortune.
He wanted to argue that it wasn’t true. That his mom knew he loved her. But how could he really be sure?
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled thickly. “I – I can’t change the past. I didn’t know how to handle it.”
“So you ran away,” his dad said bitterly. “Big surprise. It’s what you always do.”
“Dad,” Trent ground out, a pleading tone to his voice. “I’m not running away now.” There was a pause while they stared at one another. “Can I come to your place later? We can talk.” Trent really wanted to try and do this somewhere they weren’t at continual risk of an audience.
“Talk about what?” his dad demanded. “Like you said. We can’t change the past.”
“About how we feel,” Trent said, trying to remember what Barry had told him. He had offered to fly a shrink down for both the Charles men. As much as Trent hated the idea of spilling his guts like that, he’d do it for certain if it made things better. But he knew his dad would never go for it, not in a million years. Real men handled their own problems. But if they couldn’t use a therapist, the best Trent could do would be to try and get them both to open up. Even if it was a can of worms.
His dad gritted his teeth in anger, though. Merlin pawed anxiously at Trent’s feet, gnawing at the laces on his boots.
“Trent,” his dad said, shaking his head and finally looking away. “I can’t help you with your guilt. I’m sorry.”
“So, what then?” Trent exploded. Merlin flinched away from him and Trent felt awful. “That’s it? You’re just not going to talk to me anymore? You’re done with me?”
“I’m not sure what we have left in common.” His dad’s voice broke as he spoke, tearing a ragged shred from Trent’s heart. He sounded so broken. “I needed you and you were too scared to come home. I don’t think there’s much we can repair of that now.”
Trent wanted to argue that he would have come home. But the longer they left it, the worse it got. Then his dad had let old Lancelot be put to sleep
without telling Trent, and Trent had been so hurt and angry he had left the wound between them to fester. But standing there now, god damn it, he wanted to try.
Merlin suddenly yelped, jumping back to his feet and making both Trent and his dad visibly jerk. Growling and yelping, Merlin tore through the shop, taking out a tray of thimbles and scattering them noisily to the wooden floor.
“Oh, hello!” A familiar voice called from out in the hall where the puppy was sprinting off to.
Trent’s heart plummeted down into his boots. Great. If it didn’t rain, it poured.
Ashby looked immaculate as he stepped over the shop entrance threshold. His blond hair was swooped in that perfect way that made Trent’s stomach flip. He wore skinny jeans, a low V-neck shirt and a stone-gray cardigan that was so long it swished around his knees. He was as beautiful as ever and Trent felt his heart contract. What the fuck was he afraid of here?
But then Ashby looked up from petting Merlin and saw Trent was watching. His pale face lost what little color there was in his cheeks and his eyes went wide. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he stammered.
“No, it’s fine,” Trent said quickly. He half-reached out with his hand. “Don’t go.”
Ashby smiled awkwardly and stood, despite Merlin’s protests. “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I’ll, um, see you later.”
“Yeah?” Trent said hopefully. But Ashby just gave him a ghost of a smile and turned away.
Trent hadn’t thought it was possible to feel worse than he had a minute ago. He’d ruined everything. Then he looked back at his dad.
Trent Sr. was shaking his head in disgust as he stooped down and began picking up the thimbles. “You broke that poor boy’s heart,” he said, glancing up and raising his eyebrows. “Jesus, Trent. I really wanted to believe you’d treat this one right. Don’t you care about anyone but yourself?”
If Trent hadn’t been feeling like he was crumbling apart from all sides, he might have been impressed that his dad hadn’t even batted an eyelid at the idea of Trent being involved with another man. As it was, he could only hear yet another disappointment in a long list of his failures.
“I’ll go,” Trent managed to say. “You don’t want me here. I’ll just go.”
His dad clenched his jaw and shook his head. He pulled his glasses off and finally cleaned them on his sleeve. “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered. “But if this is how things are, I think it might be for the best.”
Trent’s eyes blurred with tears as he looked down at his feet. Fuck. He was not going to cry now. He didn’t fucking cry, let alone in front of his dad.
He didn’t want to leave, though. He wasn’t even sure if Barry would let him. But it was clear they weren’t going to achieve anything today. “I’ll give you some space,” he mumbled, walking out of the shop before anyone could come in and see him looking like shit. He heard Merlin whimpering as he left, but the pup didn’t follow.
If Trent didn’t do something with himself, he was going to start drinking, even though it was only midday. He could feel the kind of bender upon him where he didn’t usually stop until the world disappeared entirely and he woke up in some woman’s bed with a three-day hangover. He was damned if he was going to give in to those urges right now. He only had the resort bar at his disposal, for one thing. But more than that, he didn’t want to end up in some strange girl’s bed.
He only wanted one person.
But Ashby obviously didn’t want him, and with good reason. Trent had ghosted him quite spectacularly to his face. So for a few hours, Trent went back to his cabin and worked with the weights he’d got himself. Then he threw himself down the slopes on his board with increasing disregard for his safety. When it was just him and the burn in his muscles, he hurt less.
But his luck ran out when he took a corner too sharply and sent himself flying head over heels, narrowly avoiding breaking his neck. As he lay in the snow, panting and trying to calm his heart down, he stared up at the ominous gray sky and allowed reality to sink in.
His mom had died just like that. It didn’t matter that she was an experienced skier. One day, she had just lost control for whatever reason and then everything was gone in an instant.
Trent wasn’t ready to lose everything.
He sat up and detached his feet from the board. At least there weren’t many people around to witness his fuck up. Not this particular fuckup, anyway.
Trent’s dad was right. He did run away from too many things. He skirted around the big issues and treated life like a goddamned party. Well, at some point, someone had to flick on the lights and clear up all the mess.
Trent didn’t know how he was going to do it. But he had to make things right.
Starting with Ashby.
23
Ashby
Ashby lay on his bed among his scattered clothes and open suitcases. He was flicking between different screens on his phone, trying to decide where was best to fly to. He didn’t really want to go home, but he didn’t feel like going on holiday anywhere else either. Not when it was obvious wherever he went he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
His mum had said he was welcome to come visit them in Dubai, but they were working. Besides, he was not comfortable going there as someone so openly queer. They were only supposed to be staying there for eighteen months, so Ashby would wait until they were stationed somewhere most hospitable to go visit them.
Several of his friends back in London were begging him to come see them. But he was so ashamed he didn’t think he could face anyone right now. He was more heartbroken over a one-night-stand than he was a two-year relationship. They all thought he was cut up about Gordon, when he didn’t give a damn about that manipulative, cheating twat. He cared about Trent, though. Deeply.
Which was insane because they hardly knew each other. He needed to get over himself and get far away before he embarrassed himself or Trent any further. He just couldn’t bring himself to commit and book any flights, despite having them loaded up on his phone, good to go.
Maybe he should try and talk to him one last time? Things had been fine before they left the hotel room. And yet the second they hit reality, Trent had folded like a house of cards.
If he couldn’t deal with being queer, it wasn’t Ashby’s place to force him. No matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much it made him want to cry at the thought he was walking away from the only decent man he’d ever loved.
Shagged. He didn’t love Trent, that was ridiculous. They had fucked, once. Twice. Yes, it had been truly spectacular. But it wasn’t love. The gaping hole in Ashby’s chest was just that pain of being rejected, yet again.
Home, he decided abruptly. He wanted to go home. He wanted his flat in Chelsea and his local pub and his lovely friends. He wanted to taste the polluted but familiar spring air of the city. He wanted a proper cup of tea.
Battling down a sob, he went to open his phone where it had gone dark and locked. But a knock at the door stopped him.
With a wet chuckle, he figured it was probably Maeve. She always seemed to know when he was feeling down so she could appear with her particular brand of brutal honesty. He’d miss her. Maybe she would want to stay in touch? He’d already seen she had a Facebook account filled with cats and pictures of hot men. He felt like they would have a lot to chat about.
He rubbed his eyes and sighed as he approached the door, doing his best to keep ahold of his smile.
It wasn’t Maeve on the other side.
Trent looked broken. He was still obviously a large, hot, muscular man. But his shoulders were slumped and his eyes looked wary as he regarded Ashby. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“Can I come in?”
Ashby had sworn he would do everything in his power to walk away from this disastrous not-relationship. But Trent looked so bloody sad he couldn’t stand it.
“Okay,” he said quietly. He stepped inside and allowed Trent to follow. The door swung shut behind him.
; As he turned to face him, Ashby caught the horrified expression light up on Trent’s face as he took in the debris littered across Ashby’s room. “You’re leaving,” he croaked.
“Uh,” said Ashby. He looked down at the phone he’d left on his bed. “Maybe?”
“Fuck,” Trent cried, grabbing his hair. His sad eyes had turned wild as his gaze darted about the room before settling on Ashby. “Please,” he said. “Please don’t go. Oh my god, I’ve been such a prick to you. But give me a chance to unfuck this. I don’t have the right, but I’m begging you, please let me try.”
Ashby took in a couple of shallow breaths. “I’m not going to ever be a woman,” he said. He knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but it was what Trent needed to hear at that moment. His cock certainly wasn’t going anywhere, and he didn’t have boobs. “I like you, Trent. I really do. But if you can’t cope with me not being a woman-”
“I don’t give a shit about you being a dude,” Trent growled, dropping his hands from his hair and looked Ashby in the eye. “I’m not scared of that, and…fuck it, I’m not scared of coming out. It’s a big deal, but I’d do it. I’m…scared to death of committing to someone for the first time in my fucking life. And I know you don’t even live in this country. But Ashby…I…don’t want to let you go. I can’t. Not if there’s any chance you’ll have me.”
Ashby could hardly trust himself to breathe. “Do you mean that?” he asked in barely more than a whisper.
Trent balled up his fists, but he nodded. “I don’t have the right words to work out how I’m feeling. Other than…god, I want to hold you and never fucking let you go.”
A small part of Ashby’s mind tried to warn him that they were very nice words, but it might not change anything. However, most of his thoughts were telling him that Trent was here. He was trying.
Ashby reached out his hand.
Trent crossed the room in two strides, swooping Ashby into a bone-crushing hug. He buried his face into Ashby’s neck while Ashby took his turn jamming his fingers through Trent’s gorgeous hair and holding tight. The sob Ashby had been fighting earlier broke free as their bodies pressed together.
