Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(57)

Ashby smiled awkwardly and stood, despite Merlin’s protests. “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I’ll, um, see you later.”

“Yeah?” Trent said hopefully. But Ashby just gave him a ghost of a smile and turned away.

Trent hadn’t thought it was possible to feel worse than he had a minute ago. He’d ruined everything. Then he looked back at his dad.

Trent Sr. was shaking his head in disgust as he stooped down and began picking up the thimbles. “You broke that poor boy’s heart,” he said, glancing up and raising his eyebrows. “Jesus, Trent. I really wanted to believe you’d treat this one right. Don’t you care about anyone but yourself?”

If Trent hadn’t been feeling like he was crumbling apart from all sides, he might have been impressed that his dad hadn’t even batted an eyelid at the idea of Trent being involved with another man. As it was, he could only hear yet another disappointment in a long list of his failures.

“I’ll go,” Trent managed to say. “You don’t want me here. I’ll just go.”

His dad clenched his jaw and shook his head. He pulled his glasses off and finally cleaned them on his sleeve. “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered. “But if this is how things are, I think it might be for the best.”

Trent’s eyes blurred with tears as he looked down at his feet. Fuck. He was not going to cry now. He didn’t fucking cry, let alone in front of his dad.

He didn’t want to leave, though. He wasn’t even sure if Barry would let him. But it was clear they weren’t going to achieve anything today. “I’ll give you some space,” he mumbled, walking out of the shop before anyone could come in and see him looking like shit. He heard Merlin whimpering as he left, but the pup didn’t follow.

If Trent didn’t do something with himself, he was going to start drinking, even though it was only midday. He could feel the kind of bender upon him where he didn’t usually stop until the world disappeared entirely and he woke up in some woman’s bed with a three-day hangover. He was damned if he was going to give in to those urges right now. He only had the resort bar at his disposal, for one thing. But more than that, he didn’t want to end up in some strange girl’s bed.

He only wanted one person.

But Ashby obviously didn’t want him, and with good reason. Trent had ghosted him quite spectacularly to his face. So for a few hours, Trent went back to his cabin and worked with the weights he’d got himself. Then he threw himself down the slopes on his board with increasing disregard for his safety. When it was just him and the burn in his muscles, he hurt less.

But his luck ran out when he took a corner too sharply and sent himself flying head over heels, narrowly avoiding breaking his neck. As he lay in the snow, panting and trying to calm his heart down, he stared up at the ominous gray sky and allowed reality to sink in.

His mom had died just like that. It didn’t matter that she was an experienced skier. One day, she had just lost control for whatever reason and then everything was gone in an instant.

Trent wasn’t ready to lose everything.

He sat up and detached his feet from the board. At least there weren’t many people around to witness his fuck up. Not this particular fuckup, anyway.

Trent’s dad was right. He did run away from too many things. He skirted around the big issues and treated life like a goddamned party. Well, at some point, someone had to flick on the lights and clear up all the mess.

Trent didn’t know how he was going to do it. But he had to make things right.

Starting with Ashby.





23





Ashby





Ashby lay on his bed among his scattered clothes and open suitcases. He was flicking between different screens on his phone, trying to decide where was best to fly to. He didn’t really want to go home, but he didn’t feel like going on holiday anywhere else either. Not when it was obvious wherever he went he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

His mum had said he was welcome to come visit them in Dubai, but they were working. Besides, he was not comfortable going there as someone so openly queer. They were only supposed to be staying there for eighteen months, so Ashby would wait until they were stationed somewhere most hospitable to go visit them.

Several of his friends back in London were begging him to come see them. But he was so ashamed he didn’t think he could face anyone right now. He was more heartbroken over a one-night-stand than he was a two-year relationship. They all thought he was cut up about Gordon, when he didn’t give a damn about that manipulative, cheating twat. He cared about Trent, though. Deeply.

Which was insane because they hardly knew each other. He needed to get over himself and get far away before he embarrassed himself or Trent any further. He just couldn’t bring himself to commit and book any flights, despite having them loaded up on his phone, good to go.

Maybe he should try and talk to him one last time? Things had been fine before they left the hotel room. And yet the second they hit reality, Trent had folded like a house of cards.

If he couldn’t deal with being queer, it wasn’t Ashby’s place to force him. No matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much it made him want to cry at the thought he was walking away from the only decent man he’d ever loved.

Shagged. He didn’t love Trent, that was ridiculous. They had fucked, once. Twice. Yes, it had been truly spectacular. But it wasn’t love. The gaping hole in Ashby’s chest was just that pain of being rejected, yet again.