Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(27)

Kiefer looked coldly at Trent’s arm wrapped firmly around Ashby’s back. “Not so alone, after all?” He raised an eyebrow before turning to knock back the rest of his whiskey. “See ya around, English.”

Ashby was thoroughly glad to see the back of him.





12





Trent





As soon as Trent had seen Ashby and that guy Kiefer, he’d known something wasn’t right. He probably should have checked the situation before going barreling in, but the way Ashby was recoiling from the dude’s touch made Trent see red.

He knew he didn’t have a stellar record when it came to heartbreaks, but he would never creep on a girl who was clearly not interested. Despite his face being hidden behind Kiefer’s white Stetson, Trent could still tell from Ashby’s clenched fists and ramrod straight back that he was very unhappy.

He wasn’t sure what the hell possessed him to act like Ashby was his boyfriend, but it was the first idea that popped into his head and ran with it. Thankfully, Ashby responded like it was exactly what he’d needed.

Still, when they’d watched Kiefer leave, Trent had turned uncertainly to Ashby as he gently let him go. “Sorry,” he said. “Seemed like that guy was an asshole.”

Ashby rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Yes,” he said thickly. Then he took a gulp from the half-finished cocktail in front of him. “He was. And I’m deeply grateful for the dashing rescue. I hate when things like that happen. It would be nice not to have to rely on a friend to bail me out, but…” He trailed off and gave Trent an apologetic smile. “I hope you were planning on dinner after all, because it’s my treat after that. I insist.”

Trent opened his mouth. He was so used to covering the check when he went out with friends. But Ashby’s eyes were glassy and it seemed important to him to pay Trent back.

“Okay,” he said. “But let me buy you a new drink.” Kiefer had obviously bought the fresh one for Ashby and a petty part of Trent didn’t want him touching it.

A strange emotion played across Ashby’s face. “Deal,” he said softly. Then he leaned against the counter, catching the bartender’s attention. “These were simply wonderful, Darnell,” he said with a genuine air. “But I think we’re going to switch to wine now.” He glanced at Trent. “Unless you prefer something else?”

Trent shook his head. He’d drink anything, quite frankly. “Sounds good.”

He watched while Ashby amiably chatted with Darnell, shaking off his fright at having that douchebag’s hands on him. He just loved people, or so Trent was starting to think, as he asked Darnell his opinion on the best red wine they had. Darnell, in turn, brightened up at being asked about something he was clearly passionate about.

By the time the two of them moved into the restaurant area, Ashby happily knew which wine to ask their waiter for and seemed fairly recovered. But Trent was perturbed.

“That happen a lot?” he asked once they were seated with their menus. Trent slipped his leather jacket off, noticing Ashby’s gaze lingering on it as he did.

Then Ashby looked questioningly at him before understanding what he had asked.

“Ah, yes,” he said, toying with one of the prongs of his fork. “I’m always too scared to tell them to fuck off. I bet you think I’m pathetic.”

Trent frowned at him. “Not your fault dickheads get all pervy.”

He glanced up and realized Ashby was looking intently at him. “I suppose,” he said. “But I’d like to stand up for myself a little bit more. I’m sure you’ve never suffered from unwanted attention in your life.”

Trent thought back to the paparazzi that had hounded him until he’d snapped. Dez Starr’s face probably disagreed with that statement.

Ashby seemed to realize he’d said something off. “I mean, I doubt you’ve felt very afraid,” he said quietly, looking down at his menu. He blinked a couple of times. “You’re so big. You could scare anyone off.”

He was clearly disturbed by Kiefer’s advances and Trent felt furious all over again. It was true he could handle himself. Ashby looked so much more delicate. “That sucks,” he said, unsure what else to offer. “Glad I could help this time.”

Ashby relaxed a little. Then he reached over to squeeze Trent’s hand. “Me too,” he said. “Thank you. Now, enough of this moping. Let’s act like we’re on holiday.”

He offered his dazzling smile to the waiter so he could order their wine as well as olives and bread. He was extremely confident asking for what he wanted but not patronizing to the staff. It made Trent feel like he’d been brought up with both money and manners.

“So, I met your dad,” Ashby said, sipping his wine once their waiter delivered it. “He was walking Merlin. He seemed nice.”

Trent blinked at him. “You…talked to my dad?”

Ashby nodded. He didn’t bite into his bread, rather ripped off little bits, then buttered them individually before popping them into his mouth to chew slowly. “He said to tell you that he hoped you had a nice night. I invited him to join us, but I think he felt like he’d be intruding. It was nice to say hello though. Do you visit him here often?”