Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(45)

The food was very good, served to half a dozen tables standing on the grass by the colonial house. The weather was just right. Warm but not so hot or sunny as to make them uncomfortable. Trent was very aware of sitting next to Ashby the whole time. But where Trent became tongue-tied, as was usual when he had too much on his mind, Ashby held court, regaling the other guests they were seated alongside with tales of growing up in Singapore and England. Everyone commented on how lovely his accent was. Trent felt proud of him.

He reached over at one point, when Ashby was catching his breath and eating something for once, and squeezed his knee. Ashby looked at him with curiosity. “I’m glad you’re here,” Trent murmured, letting go of his leg. He meant it.

One of Blake’s dance friends, Nessa, kept her eyes on Trent during dinner with obvious interest. Most people in attendance knew who he was but had the class not to approach him or act inappropriately when faced with a movie star. But Nessa, who was a very beautiful girl, was giving out just enough subtle body language to let Trent know the interest was there, if he were so inclined.

She was sitting with another guy from the dance studio who Trent couldn’t remember the name of. He was an objectively handsome Black dude who was clearly intrigued by Ashby. Trent inched just a little bit closer to Ashby’s seat and topped up his wine.

The speeches got off to a bumpy start with Mrs. Jackson giving a forty-five-minute slide show that was more a testimony to Blake’s career than it was Blake and Elion’s love. But then a slightly tipsy Mrs. Rodriguez stood and gave only a ten-minute toast, half of which was in Spanish, talking about how she knew her special boy would always find true love. Blake and Elion thanked the guests and everyone who had helped the wedding come together. Then they both spoke about each other. They held hands and said a few words about how they were the luckiest guys alive.

That was when Trent realized Ashby was quietly weeping.

Alarmed, Trent leaned over. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

Ashby grinned and hastily dabbed his eyes. This close, he looked like he might be wearing a shimmer on his eyelids and lips. That did strange things to Trent’s heart. “Sorry, yes,” he whispered back sheepishly and laughed. “I just love weddings. They look so happy.”

Trent nodded. They were.

Joey’s best man speech was full of hilarious anecdotes about his best friend. But he ended on how Blake had courageously come out to the whole world on stage at the Nickelodeon awards, essentially declaring his love for Elion in the process. At that, Ashby leaned over to Trent.

“That moment changed my life,” he admitted in little more than a rasp. “It made me brave.”

Trent regarded Ashby. “You’re always brave,” he said automatically. He was. He was fearless.

Ashby blushed and looked back toward the front table.

As they moved on to the evening wedding reception, a live band set up in the gazebo and a light-up disco dance floor was laid on the grass. Servers moved with ease offering a never-ending supply of bubbly. But as the evening wore on, Trent needed something a little stronger.

Was he really going to do this? Was he going to see if Ashby wanted to put that one and only bed they conveniently had to good use?

He needed whiskey.

Blake and his crew were mesmerizing the crowd on the dance floor with their effortless skill. Ashby was in Elion and Joey’s attentive care. So it was easy to slip away and head inside to the deserted hotel bar.

Almost deserted.

A lone figure sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey just like Trent was planning on getting. Even from behind, he looked like a work of goddamned art.

“Fuck me sideways ‘til Sunday,” Trent growled. It gave the guy just enough warning to turn as Trent ran and grabbed him, hugging him so hard he lifted him from his seat as he burst out laughing. “Reyse fucking Hickson, you absolute hero.”

The final member of Below Zero hugged him back just as fiercely. “Holy shit, TJ, is it good to see you.”

“Dude,” Trent enthused. He lifted Reyse up for a few seconds longer, his feet dangling while he laughed, then dropped him back down. “I didn’t think you were going to make it!”

Reyse shook his head. “Me neither,” he said. “But I’ll never forgive myself for missing Joey’s big day, so I pulled some strings to make Blake’s.”

He was ethereally beautiful in a boyish, charming way. Strong jaw, blond, highlighted hair and huge baby-blue eyes that could make whole civilizations drop to their knees. His frame was slim and he stood a few inches shorter than Trent. But he was built like a thoroughbred racehorse with all the muscles that made teenage girls and their mothers wail equally in delight. He was every kind of threat. Gorgeous in both masculine and feminine ways, talented at singing, dancing and acting, and a thoroughly nice guy to boot.

He and Trent had always been close in the band. It was therefore not surprising that Trent was the most forgiving of Reyse’s phenomenally successful solo career, or the fact that the band’s label dropped them to specifically focus on Reyse alone. Trent was happy for him. He deserved it all.

It didn’t mean he hadn’t missed him like crazy.

“Fuck, how long’s it been?” he asked while looking him over. “The guys are going to lose their shit, man.”

“Too long,” said Reyse. He sounded weary. He turned to the barman who was doing a very good job not swallowing his own tongue at the sight of TJ Charles and Reyse Hickson alone with him in his bar. “Another two, my man,” Reyse said with effortless charm, raising his tumbler to him. The guy nodded and poured the drinks while Reyse and Trent sat down on the bar stools.