Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(30)

“Shh,” said Ashby, pressing his fingers to his pale pink lips. “People will think we’re a couple.”

“They already do,” Trent assured him, grinning back down at him. “Why, are you ashamed of me?”

“Oh, do be sensible,” Ashby slurred. “You know, I actually had your posters on my wall growing up.” He snorted. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you when we met.”

Something strange fizzed through Trent’s insides. So, Ashby did know who Trent was. The idea of Ashby having Below Zero posters up as a teenager made Trent’s insides tingle. Not that he hadn’t made friends with fans before, but he just hadn’t expected it of Ashby.

“It was probably because I was a dick to you,” Trent grumbled. “Supposed to be all smiles, all the time. Every girl’s dream.”

Ashby blew a raspberry as they walked through the lobby towards his room. Or at least, Trent assumed. Ashby was leading the way, tugging Trent along with his arm still around his waist. “You’re not a dick. You’re a teddy bear.” Ashby patted Trent’s chest. “Maybe make that a grizzly bear. Dear lord, you’re so buff. It makes me weep.”

For some reason, the compliment made Trent feel a little flushed. “You’re hot, too,” he said without really thinking it through.

Ashby giggled, then stumbled free of Trent’s arm. “Don’t be silly, silly,” he said. “I’m not…” He waved his hand up and down. “You. Anyway, this is my room.” He patted the door affectionately. “Me. I sleep here.” He sighed and leaned against it, pulling a key from out of the side of his boot. Then he looked up at Trent through his eyelashes. “I know I’m totally barking up the wrong tree. But…I do sort of wish I could invite you in.” He smiled and pressed the key to his lips, his eyes half-closed and sleepy looking. “You are very lovely, Trent Charles. If ever you need a pretend boyfriend in return for tonight, you know who to ask.”

With that, he hummed and unlocked his door. Waving, he bade Trent goodnight, then went inside his room.

Trent stood there for a good twenty seconds before he realized he should walk away and go to his own cabin.

Ashby wanted to invite him in. Well…that was extremely gratifying. It was natural that Trent be flattered by the compliment. In his reasonably drunken state, he grinned and wondered what that might be like. To sleep with a guy.

Having so many male queer best friends, it wasn’t like the concept was totally alien. But as Trent let himself inside his cabin and stripped for bed, he found his mind wandering for the first time, perhaps ever. Normally the idea of going with another guy left him feeling a little perplexed. It did nothing for him. But the good wine and good mood were urging him on.

What if he’d said yes to Ashby’s offer?

It wasn’t like they would see each other again after this vacation. They lived in different countries. Trent could have accepted the invitation into Ashby’s room and explored where the night might take them.

By the time he got into bed, he was half-hard.

It was just a fantasy. It wouldn’t do any harm. So he spat in his palm and took himself in hand. Ashby had such a pretty mouth. The image of him touching the key to his lips fueled Trent as he massaged his balls with one hand and jerked off with the other.

He pictured Ashby sucking him off and loving it. Trent would hold onto that beautiful blond hair and moan like he was now, loudly and with abandon. He gnashed his teeth as his climax built quickly.

All too soon, he was gasping and spilling into his hand, quivering as the orgasm rippled through his body. He hummed in contentment, draping his arm over his eyes as he caught his breath. He barely had enough energy to pull a couple of tissues from the box and mop himself up before sleep claimed him, the smile still on his lips.

The last thought that drifted through his mind was that maybe he should have said yes.





13





Ashby





Ashby was definitely dying. It was a scientific fact.

He moaned and whimpered as the knock on the door roused him from his sleep. “Bugger off,” he wailed, stuffing his throbbing head underneath his pillow.

He felt a weight make the bed dip, then a finger poking at his ribs. “You appear to still be in bed,” Maeve commented.

Ashby grumbled and pulled his pillow down tighter over his head. “Go away,” he mumbled.

“But then who am I gonna gossip to?” Maeve asked, her voice a pesky singsong. The poking continued.

“I should have you fired,” Ashby threatened.

Maeve snorted. “I’ve been fired four times from this place. Come on, you’re killing me! You had a date with TJ Charles and now you have to tell!”

Coldness washed through Ashby. He risked peeking out from under the pillow. “It wasn’t a date,” he mumbled.

Because he had to keep telling himself that, apparently. Fucking hell. He’d been a bit of a mess by the time he and Trent had finished dinner. But he hadn’t been so trashed he didn’t remember inviting Trent into his room. Into his bed.

Urgh, even if it had been a joke, it was grossly inappropriate. He’d probably made Trent feel horribly uncomfortable. He wanted to go back to sleep and pretend the whole thing had never happened.