Chapter 30

Ash

"O h, you're finally home," I told Soren as he walked through the door, relief washing over me at the sight of him. He was supposed to be back a few hours ago. It wasn't unusual for him to get home late, but he usually called to let me know. What's more, he seemed stressed, more than usual, with beads of sweat covering his forehead. Even his shirt was dampened with sweat stains, almost like he'd run his way back home.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes," he answered, simply and shortly.

"Let me take that for you," I told him, reaching to grab his suit jacket, but he ignored my offer and went straight to our room.

His odd behavior stung, and my stomach flipped at being dismissed, but I swallowed hard and followed him to our room.

"I tried cooking tonight," I said, hoping it would break this weird atmosphere Soren had brought back home with him. Ever since we came back from Greece last month, he'd been in a bad mood. So, I tried cheering him up in all sorts of ways, and one of them was trying to cook. I knew one home-cooked meal wouldn't do the trick, but it was just one of many ideas I had in mind.

"Do you want to eat first? Or would you rather take a shower?" I asked, hoping his response would contain more than a single word. To my disappointment, he didn't even bother to answer before walking straight to the shower and locking the door behind him. My heart sank, but I forced myself to stay positive. After almost eight years together, I knew Soren sometimes faced hardships. In addition to his OCD, he had a long history of depression, which he often handled quite well. He sometimes shut me out, like he did just now, and it disappointed me. Yet, understanding it was his choice whether to share or not, I went back to the kitchen to finish dinner.

After picking his favorite plates and cutlery, I set the table so it would be exactly as he liked before opening his favorite bottle of wine. I even lit candles to set the mood. It was the small details that mattered to Soren, from the bergamot orange scent of the candles to the gray cashmere shirt I wore; everything affected him, and when things were out of order, it burdened his life. Yes , it might sound crazy for an outsider, but not to me. I knew him. I'd lived with him for years and saw the person underneath the rituals and strict rules. More importantly, I loved him. I loved him more than I could ever put into words and was willing to put up with anything he'd thrown at me. And despite what some would say, such as my mom or my uncle, Soren wasn't selfish. He was a kind man who loved me deeply.

Thirty minutes later, we sat on opposite sides of our long dining table that we only ever used when we had guests over. Since I wanted this dinner to be special, tonight was an exception.

"How does it taste?" I asked, eager to get some feedback from him.

With his eyes pinned on the plate, Soren didn't bother to look away from his steak as he cut another piece. He slowly brought it to his mouth and then forced himself to chew before swallowing it with wine.

"Is it that bad?" I chuckled, nerves nipping my gut. "I guess I'm just not meant to be in the kitchen." I smiled awkwardly, then took a long gulp from my drink.

We sank into another dragging silence. Soren looked in a completely different place, and it worried me. He'd even missed one button on his shirt and ignored the drop of wine he spilled while pouring his second glass.

"I was thinking, maybe we can go somewhere soon?" I said. Soren always felt better when it was just the two of us on the other side of the world. Greece, Italy, Sri Lanka, Spain. We'd already been to so many places together. Maybe that was what he needed? "We can go someplace warm. I know how much you enjoy the sun—"

"I can't do this anymore," he said, his hoarse voice cutting into my ongoing monologue.

Looking up at him, I smiled. "S-Sorry?"

"I said, I can't do this anymore," he repeated himself, and I frowned.

"Well, if the steak is that bad, we can just order takeout."

He sighed, his face paler than usual. "I'm not talking about the food, Ashton."

My heart suddenly began to pound fast, each beat feeling like a punch to my chest until it was hard to breathe.

"W-What are you talking about, then?"

Finally, he looked up from his plate, and our eyes met.

I hated it.

I hated how dead his eyes were while he looked at me with such coldness that it shattered my illusion of a perfect life. But then, he continued talking, and it got even worse.

"I'm talking about this." He pointed his finger between us. "About us."

Usually, I loved it when he used that word.

Us .

Referring to him and me as one and the same.

Not right now.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry."

And just like that, Soren had ended our relationship. There was no explanation, no discussion. One short sentence and it was over. Finished.

He was out of our house the same evening, leaving me alone and more broken than I ever thought was possible.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes shut before shifting on the bed. I'd been lying awake for the past hour, rethinking that evening again and again. Since the breakup, I'd been going over every minute of that night, desperately searching for a clue. Maybe I'd missed something that could have provided me with an explanation.

Soren leaving me that way didn't make any sense, but then again, most of the things Soren did made no sense. Perhaps, just like his obsession with counting pictures on a wall, I was an obsession, too, until I wasn't.

But whenever I came up with some sort of a reasonable answer as to why he'd ended things, I immediately discounted it. My heart and brain didn't align, not in the slightest, and accepting we were over seemed impossible.

It was also his cruelty that took me by surprise. I knew Soren was a fierce man who eliminated anything or anyone who stood in his way, but never me. I was his little Sparrow, or so I thought, until the day he cut me so completely out of his life. Our life. We weren't just a casual hookup. We lived together. I depended on him by every means possible. We shared a world until he decided he didn't want to share anymore, and I was kicked out. And while he had left me with a lot of money, I refused to take a penny because this was never about that.

Since returning to LA, I must have called him a thousand times. But none of my calls or texts were ever answered. By now, I'd stopped trying.

Despair would be the best word to describe my current state, where I didn't know what to do with my life. I was twenty-five years old, with a degree I had no intention of using, no savings, and no actual friends.

Yes, Kai was back in my life, but calling him a friend felt wrong, especially after he jerked me off until I came wrapped in his strong embrace.

Being the coward that I was, I'd avoided Kai for the last few days. He was probably the one thing that gave me comfort lately, but of course, we had to screw it up with hot, quick, spontaneous sex that flipped my stomach whenever I remembered it.

The sensation of Kai's muscular body pressed against mine in the cold water with his hot breath on my neck and his talented hands around my throbbing dick still got me worked up. Even now, my eager dick twitched with the fresh memory I tried repressing.

With a grunt, I flipped to my stomach and kicked the mattress with my legs. I was getting real fucking tired from how my body had functioned the last few days. How could one be so miserable and yet so horny? But it wasn't just sex that I craved; it was the feeling of being wanted. The way Kai looked at me with those nostalgic eyes shifted something inside me. His affection valued me, and I found myself craving his attention. It had nothing to do with him and everything to do with my fucked-up brain that fed off other people's approval.

Voices had been coming from downstairs since the early morning, and finally giving in to my curiosity, I'd decided to get out of my room and go see what the fuss was all about. But first, I had to shower.

Brushing my teeth, I moved a hand over the mirror to clean it from the steam. I always showered in boiling water, which turned the room into a sauna. Looking at my reflection, I noticed the stubble coating my face. Without stopping to think, I reached for my electric shaver when it occurred to me. Why did I even need to bother? I'd never cared about body hair and only ever shaved or waxed because of Soren, who loved my body smooth.

But Soren isn't here anymore.

Opening the drawer under the sink, I tossed the shaver in and slammed it shut. It wasn't like I would suddenly grow a full beard, but a bit of body hair never killed anyone. Ready to leave the bathroom, I glanced back at the drawer with pursed lips. Maybe I should shave, after all?

Kai

"I'm not making you a frittata," I grunted at Paris after putting a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him.

"But I want a frittata!" the little bastard bit back while pushing the plate away.

Angry, I placed a flat hand on the table and pointed at him. "Listen to me, you little—"

"What's the matter?" Aiden joined us in the kitchen right as my annoyingly spoiled seven-year-old poked his tongue at me. I loved my kid to death, but cooking him food was becoming one hell of a hustle with his weird cravings.

"Nothing," I hissed, narrowing my eyes at Paris, who gave me the same look in return. "My kid here thinks he's getting a frittata for breakfast." I rubbed a hand over my scruff. "How the fuck do you even know what a frittata is?"

Paris giggled, pointing his finger at me. "A dollar in the curse jar, Dad ."

The little devil.

"Answer the question, brat."

"I saw it on TV."

I huffed. "And how do you know it's even tasty?"

Paris shrugged and then picked a beautiful strip of crispy bacon from his plate. "It looked tasty." He took a bite. "And Mom said you can cook me anything."

Of course it was Zoe's idea. That woman thought I had all the time in the world to cook a child fucking frittatas.

"Fine, we'll make frittatas for lunch. Happy?"

Paris answered me with a big smile before he finally began eating. With a sigh, I half turned to look at Aiden, who seemed amused by the situation.

"So what are your plans for the day?" he asked, and Paris yelled, "Surfing," before I could utter a word.

"What he said." Turning from them, I walked over to the sink and began doing the dishes.

My first idea was offering Ash to join us and maybe have another zoo date or some shit, but after screwing things up with him, it was no longer an option. Just remembering what an idiot I was boiled my blood. On the same day Aiden had warned me to take things slow and to think before acting, I did the exact opposite.

Why did I have to jerk him off? Why couldn't I bite my tongue and keep my greedy hands to myself? Because the second you knew he was thinking about him, you couldn't take it. True. Whenever Ash wore that sad expression on his face, one that told me he was thinking about him , I couldn't hold back from doing something. My body tensed and ached to shake him out of those thoughts. It physically hurt me to know he was sulking, thinking about that piece of shit. It also pissed me off, knowing he was constantly thinking of a different man while being with me.

"Fuck," I cursed as I dropped the glass I was washing, and it broke. Ignoring Paris's shout about another dollar in his "curse jar," I began picking up glass from the sink. A sharp pain pierced me, and I hissed under my breath as blood began dripping from a cut on my index finger. Great , fucking great.

Immediately turning off the tap, I grabbed a paper towel and wrapped it around my finger. But seeing how blood already soaked through it, I knew it was deeper than a slight cut.

"What's wrong?" Aiden asked, trying to reach for my hand.

I didn't even realize I had pushed away from him until our eyes met, and I felt awkward. Shit .

"Keep an eye on Paris for a second, 'kay? I'll go upstairs to bandage it."

Blood began dripping onto the floor, so I quickly went to the second-floor bathroom, remembering I had the first aid kit stored there. The first door in the hall belonged to Ash's room. It had been locked since my fuckup on the beach. Thinking about how much I missed cuddling him each night formed a knot in my stomach, and with that, I pushed the bathroom door open.

A blast of steam hit my face the second I opened the door, and I rubbed my eyes before I got a clear, vivid image of Ash shaving while leaning over the sink with a towel knotted dangerously low around his narrowed hips. Help me, Jesus . It was a perfect replication of some gay porn I liked, where one guy walks in on his roommate in the middle of a shave. Things got heated up, and in the next scene, he was boning his friend over the bathroom sink.

If only that were the case now.

"S-Shit," I spat, realizing I was staring. "Didn't know you were in here."

Ash locked eyes with me before they latched on to the bloodied paper towel.

"What happened to you?" He put the electric razor down and rushed to grab my wrist.

Still overwhelmed by the heat, I didn't say a word and allowed him to pull me into the small bathroom.

He closed the toilet lid and then forced me to sit on it. "Let me see," he said and took my hand in his.

"Don't worry, Ashy. It's just a small cut." I flashed him a crooked smile while he studied the cut with pursed lips.

He let go of me and moved to fumble with the drawers, his sexy body on full display for me to enjoy as he did, until he pulled out the first aid kit.

He kneeled on the floor in front of me as he placed the kit beside him. The position gave me all sorts of dirty ideas that proved to me, once more, how weak I was. But what could a man say? Ash's face was mere inches from my cock while he was treating my wound, half-naked, drops of water sliding from his wet hair to his chest all the way down to his—" Ouch !" I hissed as he squeezed my finger.

He chuckled. "I thought it was just a small cut," he mocked me, using my own words to do so.

"Small yet painful," I huffed, holding in another hiss when he sprayed the wound with alcohol and it burned. To distract myself, I focused my eyes on his body. He was lean yet toned as fuck, each muscle beautifully shaped. He was also smooth all over, with not a single hair around. In high school, we had to get our hair removed because of the swimming team. Had he kept doing that? I hoped not because I loved finding my way around a well-groomed bush. There was just something sexy about pubes peeking out, letting you know a surprise was waiting for you downstairs.

"How did you cut yourself?" Ash asked, thankfully cutting my line of thought.

Instead of telling Ash I'd got mad thinking about him, I told a white lie. "Aiden and Paris distracted me, and I dropped a glass."

"Oh, so the noises I heard were Paris?" He looked up from the bandage he'd finished wrapping around my finger and met my eyes.

"Yeah. I have him for the weekend," I said, desperately trying to distract myself from how tenderly Ash was holding my hand, his soft skin caressing mine. I doubted he even noticed what he was doing.

"What do you say, Doctor, am I going to make it?"

The corner of his lips quirked up. "I think you'll survive."

"Yeah?"

He moved to stand up.

Still sitting, I looked up at him.

"Yeah," he said.

We held still in this position, lost in each other's stare, until he visibly swallowed.

"Kai." His voice came out hoarse and weak.

"I'm sorry about what happened," I cut in before he could say anything, standing up while I did. "Seriously, Ash. I don't know what took over me that night, and I'm sorry for screwing up."

I was only slightly taller than him, and he held my gaze before looking down at the floor.

"And I'm sorry for avoiding you the last few days… I didn't mean to."

"Don't apologize for it," I said, still looking at him.

"It's just that—" He bit on the tip of his nail. "—I really need a friend right now."

Grabbing his hand, I lowered it down. "I'll be whatever you want me to be."

Tangling his fingers with mine, he nodded.

"Thank you." He stepped closer, and without stopping to think about it, I pulled him into a hug.

Ash didn't resist and quickly wrapped two arms around me. He wasn't a small guy, yet he felt so fragile in my embrace, and I tightened my hold. I pressed my cheek against his head, his damp hair wetting me. With my eyes closed, I enjoyed the fresh scent of his shampoo while slowly tracing my fingers along his naked back. Nothing about this hug was friendly, and I'd bet my money Ash thought the same, yet he didn't nudge away and kept hugging me back.

"What are you two doing?"

Startled, we both pulled back and stared at Paris, who was standing by the open door with a naughty look on his face.

"Ash helped me treat my wound." I coughed, trying to clear my dry throat.

Paris narrowed his eyes.

"But he hugged you." The little devil smirked. God . He definitely got that from his mother. "Did he kiss your boo-boo?"

Ash nearly choked on the spot and began coughing. I patted his back, trying to help him get some air back into his lungs while my kid laughed. I'm glad he found the situation amusing.

"To be clear, he's referring to my cut," I whispered in Ash's ear, then frowned at Paris. "Why are you up here and not downstairs eating your breakfast?"

"I'm already done," he answered innocently while shifting his weight and moving around. "I want to go surfing."

"Fine," I grunted. "Wait for me downstairs. I'll be there in a minute."

Paris glanced between Ash and me, a knowing smile on his face before he dashed out. He might be seven, but he was one heck of a smart kid that nothing, and I mean nothing, ever escaped him.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my head, already expecting Ash to use this encounter as an excuse to bolt, when he surprised me by asking if he could join.

"Seriously?" I raised one skeptical brow his way after he asked if he could surf with us.

"Y-Yeah. I think it's about time I get back in the water."

"Fuck yeah." I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gave him a proper shake. "Now you're talkin'!"

Ash smiled, putting a hand on my chest.

"J-Just let me get dressed first, okay?"

This day is turning out to be good.

"Sure, I'll wait for you downstairs."

Ash answered me with a short nod before he turned around and walked into the hall. Following him out, I eyed his firm ass and bit my lips.

Real fucking good.