“Every fucking day.” The pain in Ash’s voice was pitiful to hear.
Drew gave Ash’s arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Then spending a day with my grandmother will help.” He patted Ash on his back, noting the flex and play of muscle under the fine cotton of his shirt. Why, all of a sudden did he notice these little, intimate details about Ash’s body?
Ash stilled under his touch, and Drew found he couldn’t pull away. Their gazes locked. Drew stepped back quickly, withdrawing his hand. Disconcerted, he frowned to himself. What the hell was happening here? “Uh. Let’s get going.” They wrapped up the cooled-down cookies and left the apartment. Drew drove, the silence between them speaking louder than any words could.
Chapter Seven
The drive into an unfamiliar part of the city gave Ash time to contemplate what the hell he was doing here. If he had any brain, he’d tell Drew to stop the car and he’d get out, tell him, “See ya, have a nice visit with your grandmother,” and be on his way. His usual Sundays were spent sleeping off the hangover he’d acquired on Saturday night. It was rare to find him up before 2:00 or 3:00 pm. He’d laze about his apartment, read the paper then go to a restaurant to find something to eat for dinner. Later on he might head to one of the clubs he knew where he’d have a private room with whomever he wanted, or he might choose to have quick, hot sex in a bathroom stall with someone who caught his eye.
None of it mattered, not the men nor the sex. He had no idea if they were good people like Drew or bad, like himself. He didn’t care. When he did come home, he’d drown his pain and despair in enough vodka that the bleakness of the night faded into a beautiful oblivion.
Now he sat in a car with a man who’d confounded him from first sight, a box full of cookies in his lap, actually anticipating spending his afternoon with an elderly lady. His opponents in the courtroom would laugh at him and his night-time playmates wouldn’t recognize him. For the first time in his life, Ash didn’t worry what someone else might think of him. Meeting Drew’s grandmother last night had struck something deep inside him he’d thought lost forever. In Esther he’d seen a person full of purity and love, and for a fleeting moment, he’d remembered what it felt like to be young and innocent again.
What the hell was happening to him?
“You’re very quiet.”
Drew navigated the twists and turns onto the highway and eventually Ash became totally lost. He saw high rises and then apartment buildings with children playing out front.
“I’m taking in the scenery. Aside from coming to the clinic, I never go to Brooklyn—most of my time is spent in the city.”
“But you’re not from here.”
Ash stiffened. “Why do you say that?”
Drew shot him a quick frown. “Don’t get all defensive, I wasn’t snooping into your past. You have a slight Southern accent, that’s all.”
“Oh.” He thought he’d trained himself to speak more “Northern” but conceded he might slip occasionally. “I’ve been here a long time.”
“Why are you here with me now? I’m really curious. I can’t imagine a man like you would be interested in spending one of his days off with an elderly lady, even if she is my grandmother.”
“A man like me? Why is it,” he shot right back, “that you and your friends think you know who or what I like or what I’m interested in?”
Curious, he waited to see if Drew would respond. Ash noticed his red face and enjoyed discomfiting him. Served him right for being so judgmental. They rode in silence for a little while, and Ash recalled what Drew confessed last night to him when he came back to his apartment. How lonely he was and how he believed Ash might be lonely too. Drew had no idea how close to Ash’s secret truth he’d come. He’d walked with loneliness at his shoulder, a constant companion his entire life, except those years with Luke and Brandon and then Mr. Frank. Could the two of them be more alike than he thought? Why would Drew feel isolated with a loving family and a circle of friends always by his side?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound the way it came out. And you’re right, I don’t know you well enough to insinuate that. Maybe we could start fresh, you know? I’m willing to wipe away my preconceived ideas I got of you from Jordan and that night at dinner. What you do on your own time has nothing to do with our friendship.”
Friendship? Ash didn’t think he and Drew were friends, but hearing him say it gave Ash a warm feeling inside. Like he was part of something special. Which, now that he knew a little more about Drew from the first time they met, he realized he was. Drew was a special man who put the needs of others before himself. Ash had never met anyone quite like him. Being included in his circle of friends was something Ash hadn’t known he’d desired until now.
“Yeah, I’m willing. For friendship’s sake and all that.”
Drew pulled into the driveway of a small wood-frame and brick house and cut the engine. “No one can ever have enough friends, you know?” He opened the door and took the box of cookies and gestured to the back. “Can you hand me the sandwiches?” He slammed the car door shut.
No, he didn’t know. Peter remained the only man he’d ever allowed close enough to see a fraction of who he was, but even that friendship he kept at arm’s length, like almost everyone else. Being friends with Drew wouldn’t allow for that, Ash suspected. Drew was a man who expected give and take, where Ash lived his life taking. He’d already given up everything years ago.
“Sure.” Ash gave the bag to Drew and followed him up the red-bricked walkway. Inexplicably nervous, he remained a step or two behind Drew, ready to bolt. Family and everything that went along with it unnerved and confounded him. He made up his mind to say hello to Esther, stay a few minutes, then beat a hasty retreat, using his big caseload as an excuse.
The glass-front door rattled, then opened wide, and Esther greeted Drew.
“Hello, sweetheart. Come inside.”
“Nana, I brought you a surprise besides the cookies.” Drew opened the door wider and Ash watched Esther register something he’d rarely seen in another person’s eyes when meeting him—genuine happiness.
“Asher? Oh, I’m so happy to see you, dear boy. Come inside. Drew, don’t keep him waiting on the porch like a stranger.”
Drew walked in and Ash passed in front of Esther, feeling awkward for the very first time in his life. Did he kiss her cheek or simply smile a greeting? He had no clue about propriety when it came to old ladies.
“Hello, Esther.” He decided to treat her as the great lady she was and picked up her hand and kissed it. She blushed but kept her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze as they walked to the back of the house. He listened to her soft voice, so quiet only he could hear. Drew had already entered the kitchen with the food.
“I’m so happy you came for a visit. I knew as soon as I met you what a special man you were.”
“Me?” He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I’m nothing. Nobody special.”
She stooped and turned to him putting her hand on his arm. He shook slightly but didn’t pull away.
“Don’t ever say that about yourself. You’re not a nobody. Look at all the good you’re doing. Working with Drew, helping those poor people. Would a nobody do that?”
Admiring the tenacity in her voice, Ash still didn’t buy it. Years spent listening to his foster father hurl insults, telling him how worthless he was had ingrained a sense of self he could hide from others but not himself. He could pretend from daybreak until nightfall, but when he was alone with only the scars of his past, Ash knew the truth.
“I’d have to be a heartless person not to help. I do what I can.”
Huffing out a disapproving breath, Esther gave his hand another squeeze. “I know what I see. And I’ve never been wrong.”
With those enigmatic words, she led him into a kitchen, fragrant with the smells of fried onions, garlic and delicious cooking. Ash’s stomach growled and he started, embarrassed by the sound.
“Don’t
worry, that sound is music to my grandmother’s ears, right, Nana?
Ash shot Drew a look. “I’m not hungry.”
Drew snorted. “Three words you’re never allowed to utter in this house.”
Having tied an apron over her dress, Esther bustled over to him and pointed at the table. “Sit down and I’ll bring you over a plate. I have a roast that I took out of the oven a little while ago and some mashed potatoes.”
This was all too homey for him; the loving family togetherness made him antsy. It reminded Ash of the great, yawning divide between himself and Drew. Ash could play pretend in this world for only so long, before he grew tired of beating down the devil and gave in to the darkness inside him.
“I think I should go. You and Drew can have a nice visit. You don’t need a stranger intruding.”
“I read somewhere that strangers are friends you haven’t met yet. I’ve lived too long and lost too much already to let people disappear from my life.” Once again Esther touched him, placing a hand on his arm. He struggled not to break out in a sweat or shake her off, and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to feel the pain, welcoming it as he always did to ground him.
“Please, Asher. Join us. You can never have too many friends.”
She echoed Drew’s earlier words. Now Ash saw where Drew’s innate goodness came from. And where he might have been able to brush off Drew, he couldn’t refuse Esther’s plea. Something about her touched a part of him he thought had shriveled up and died years ago.
“Okay. For a little while.” He sat, Drew taking a chair directly across from him at the round wooden table.
While Esther busied herself, Ash studied the pictures on the shelf on the wall behind Drew. He saw a much younger Esther and a handsome man—most likely her husband—big and broad in the shoulders, holding her hand. He stared at her with a tender expression visible to Ash even in the more-than-half-century-old photograph. There were assorted pictures of them with a baby, then a young woman getting married, whom Ash presumed was Drew’s mother. Recalling Drew’s sister from their brief meeting, she favored her mother in the shape of her face and tilt of her brows, where Drew took after their father. Both inherited their father’s light green eyes.
Drew caught him gazing at the photographs. “It took years for me to be able to look at their pictures after they died. I couldn’t bear to see them smiling back at me after—” He stopped and shook his head. Fascinated, Ash watched Drew compose himself, wanting to know more of the story but sensing it was neither the time nor place to discuss the tragedy.
Esther came to the table holding two plates that gave off the most delicious aroma of roast beef. This time when his stomach growled, he felt no embarrassment. She set the plates before each of them. Slices of fresh rare roast beef lay thinly cut alongside a heaping scoop of fluffy mashed potatoes with bits of fried onion mixed in.
“Your parents would be so proud of you, darling. So many people talk about helping others. You are doing something about it. I’m proud of both of you.”
She handed him cutlery and gestured to them. “Go eat. Don’t wait for me. I’m not eating this.”
Puzzled, Ash didn’t understand. “But you made all this food. Who else is coming?”
She laughed. “Oh I make a big meal every Sunday; one of the children always stops by and I make sure to have enough food for everyone. But I still look forward to the corned beef sandwich Drew brings me every week.”
“I have it right here for you, Nana.” Drew handed it to her, speaking through a mouthful of food. “Ash and I stopped along the way.”
“Here, Esther. Let me get you a plate.”
A stack of heavy-duty paper plates sat on the table and Ash separated one and handed it over to her, along with a plastic knife and fork. “Wouldn’t you rather eat off of a regular plate?”
“I learned after the kids started coming over that I didn’t want to be stuck washing dishes; I never bothered with a dishwasher since it’s only me in the house. This serves very nicely, but thank you.”
“How long have you been alone?” Ash froze, his face on fire. In asking Esther that question, hell, in coming here at all, he’d broken his cardinal rule of never getting too close or personal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Don’t be silly. You didn’t. My Sy died seventeen years ago and I miss him every day. But I never once thought of myself as being alone, or lonely.”
Sitting in this fragrant kitchen as far removed from his youth as he could possibly have gotten, the ghosts of his past brushed their ephemeral fingers against Ash’s cheeks as if to remind him they hadn’t left. No matter how many people he surrounded himself with, Ash remained alone, locked in his own personal hell.
“My grandmother is the strongest person I know, man or woman,” said Drew, his gaze fixated on the picture of his parents. “For weeks after my parents died, I couldn’t function, yet she pushed me to get up every morning and go back to school. And when I had problems dealing with it, I turned to her for help. I wouldn’t have made it without her.”
Esther put down the half of the sandwich she was about to bite into. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I think you could face anything now that came your way and not back down.”
Drew shrugged but didn’t answer. He also failed to eat anything further, despite his previous enjoyment of the food. Instead he sat and pushed the meat around on his plate and toyed with the mound of mashed potatoes. Every few minutes Ash noticed Drew glancing over his shoulder, his eyes darting to the pictures of his parents. His lips trembled and his eyes shone bright with unshed tears.
Deep in thought, Ash chewed his food, wondering what truth Drew hid from his beloved grandmother. The subtle signs he’d noticed gave Ash pause to think Drew might be almost as adept at hiding his emotions as Ash himself. It was the nervous, not-quite-there smile and the way he couldn’t look Esther straight in the eye. Chameleon that Ash was, it had become second nature for him to easily transfer between the personas of high-powered attorney and man seeking sexual satisfaction. Drew wasn’t like him; he hadn’t perfected the art of living in a protective shell, letting the world see only what you wanted them to. His face revealed every emotion, highlighting his incredible vulnerability. Ash wanted to shake him and tell him all the bad things in the world that could happen to people like him. People who cared.
Holding Drew last night and learning of his secret pain gave Ash insight to a side of Drew he instinctively knew none of Drew’s friends had ever seen. Immersed in an alcoholic haze, Drew unwittingly revealed his inner turmoil with the painful admission of loneliness and it pieced together a man Ash initially believed was nothing more than a rich person unsullied by life’s pain.
Drew’s pain caught him short, surprising Ash with the revelation that no one sailed through life untouched, despite the untroubled façade they showed the world. Ash lived his life as a loner, but not by choice, as he desperately wished to have his brothers with him. Drew, though lucky enough to have had a family and an amazing support system around him, remained locked in a solitary confinement of his own, a punishment for something Ash couldn’t understand.
“Do you like the food, Asher? You had the strangest look on your face just now.”
Esther’s concerned voice broke him out of his mental study. He wanted Drew still, but his desire had shifted from the pure physical itch of sex to something on a deeper level. He needed to know what made Drew tick, what he hid from everyone—his family, his closest friends—and why. Who was the man behind the mirror? Afraid to delve too deeply as to the underlying reason why Drew piqued his interest after all the years of nameless, emotionless sex, Ash put on his own game face, flashing the smile he reserved for judges, or used to secure new clients.
“It’s delicious; I can’t remember when I’ve had a better meal. I was thinking of something I had to do is all.”
Peering at him over her glasses, Esther gave him a troubled smile, then returned to her
massive corned beef sandwich, which she’d already split into four separate sandwiches. Drew shot him a disbelieving look, then shook his head and picked a bit at his food, answering questions from his grandmother about the clinic.
If there was anything Ash enjoyed it was a challenge, and working in such close proximity with Drew would be the challenge of his life. He’d never met anyone he’d wanted to touch more and walk away from less and it left him in the unaccustomed position of not knowing what his next move was. All he did know was he’d make sure to see as much of Dr. Drew Klein as he could.
Chapter Eight
After exiting the cab, Ash stood on the sidewalk outside the clinic, surveying the activity. Young men and women in their teens and early twenties entered and departed the building. Those who left, more often than not, wore a relaxed, hopeful look, as if they’d found the secret answer to the problem troubling them. With any luck, the clinic had done its job.
He sipped his coffee, and as they had done so very often since he met Drew Klein his thoughts wandered to the doctor. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. The man’s dark curls, light green eyes, and sweet smile didn’t hurt, but then Ash had never lacked for good-looking men in his bed.
It was more than Drew’s tight ass and lean build, though Ash readily admitted his shallow criteria in choice of bedmates, often only caring if the man had visual appeal. With Drew, his innate goodness plus the dedication he showed to his mission to create the center trumped his outward appearance. Ash had never known anyone so damn nice before and didn’t know what to make of him.
Ash pushed open the glass front door, greeting Marly, a teenager with so many facial piercings it hurt to look at her. He slipped a small bakery bag on her desk. “Good morning.”
“Hi, Mr. Davis.” Her gaze landed on the bag. “What did you bring me today?” A gleam in her pale blue eyes indicated she already knew it would be something she would like.
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