Chapter 4
Kieran
I’d messed up.
Late to the party, stumbling my way into a revelation that mirrored what Ashby had figured out years ago. My best friend, my rock, and I’d been too damn blind to see that I made him miserable.
Well—I had the rest of our lives to make it up to him.
We didn’t talk much on the drive back, mostly just let the radio do its thing.
I could tell he was one wrong comment away from freaking out, and I was still working through it all.
Ashby, in love with me. For a decade, while I’d been bouncing along without a care.
And now? God, I’d never felt like this—knocked off-kilter, flying high as a kite on a simple kiss.
In love. I was in love. With Ashby.
Yeah, that made sense.
A sudden silence fell when we pulled up in front of my mum’s house and Ashby killed the engine. “We’re here,” he said after a beat, flashing me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah.” I didn’t move just yet, content to study him.
“What?” he asked, voice hushed, almost shy. Distant brightness from a streetlamp washed across his face, and Christ, he was beautiful. The thought wasn’t entirely new, but it carried a different weight now.
“Just wondering,” I said. “If I tried to give you a goodnight kiss, would that be pushing my luck?”
Something twitched around his mouth—a hint of lightness mixed with nerves. “Rain check, maybe? Think I’m at max capacity for emotional rollercoasters tonight.”
“Okay.” I undid the seatbelt and hesitated.
We usually hugged before we parted, but he looked like even that might be too much right now.
He hated showing cracks in his armour. When his parents nearly split, it took several days until he told me, and when I’d left for Newcastle University, I had to repeat I’d miss him a dozen times before he’d say it back.
Huh. That took on a slightly different meaning now, didn’t it?
“Good night, Ash.” I reached out and skimmed my fingers along the line of his jaw, the contact sweet and brief. “Love you.”
He drew an audible breath. “‘Night, Kieran.”
No ‘I love you.’ That was fine—I was ready to earn it.
I hopped out into the cold December air and waved as he drove off.
For a second, I simply stood there, my breath frothing in front of me before it dissolved into the night.
Should I send him a quick text, some kind of reassurance that might stop him from spiralling into doubt?
I pulled out my phone and considered my message.
Christ, no pressure—just needed to strike the perfect balance between our friendship and its new romantic layer.
‘Deep breaths, yeah? I know you’re freaking out, but I mean it. Every bit.’
I sent it, then turned to my mum’s place.
Just past ten. The lights were still on, my mum probably reading in bed while Shelly watched a show.
Not too late to drop by Dom’s, was it? He might not be the ultimate authority on love, but his advice was mostly solid.
Once he got past the ‘I told you so,’ at least.
I wasn’t freaking out, no. But I could use a friendly sounding board, someone who would talk me down and keep me in check so I wouldn’t overshoot things by a mile, push too far too quickly. Surprising Ashby by jointly adopting a dog was a tad much. Probably.
December 23
Can I buy you breakfast? :)
Some of us aren’t in holiday mode yet—working.
:)
Technically I am working! Field research. Analysing the structural integrity of local pastries. Important job that needs an assistant.
Your dedication to science is inspiring. But I’ve got a table to finish—the customer wants it as a Christmas gift. Still sanding the legs...
I can bring food to the workshop? Did some research. “Acts of service” is apparently a thing.
…
You researched love languages?
Maaaaaaybe. Look, coffee + croissant delivery, no ulterior motive.
Okay, lie. Possible ulterior motive: charm extremely fit carpenter.
Possibly schedule a dog shelter visit. Just to LOOK?
You don’t do “just look.” You do “leap first, consider consequences on the flight.”
...which is why I need supervision. Point stands: coffee + sustenance. And maybe one kiss? But no pressure.
Is this a Kieran-style grand gesture?
Small gesture. Baby-step gesture.
(message deleted)
Okay. Honestly? I’ve never wooed anyone before. Trying to do it without freaking you out.
Bring the coffee. If it’s decent, I’ll consider the dog viewing. No promises.
Dash of milk, no sugar. See you in 15. :) :) :)
Since Jude’s organisational and cooking skills far outshone everyone else’s, we met at his place. It smelled like cheese and grease the moment he opened the door—homemade pizza, as promised.
I hugged him and handed over my entrance fee in the form of a six-pack, then headed for the living room.
Ashby, Dom, and Ezra were already there, sprawled across the sofa and the carpet.
Just like old times, except we all had proper jobs now.
Well, sort of. Dom and I had yet to finish our training, but we sure put in a serious number of work hours.
Also, the way my focus immediately honed in on Ashby, caught by his slightly hesitant smile and the loose drape of his black jumper—that was different, too. Yes, I’d seen him earlier this morning, but since I knew him like the back of my hand, I’d kept it light.
Baby steps.
“The prodigious son returns!” Ezra exclaimed, and right—other people in the room.
Ashby’s gaze slid away from me. “Isn’t it prodigal?”
“Ah, no. That’d imply he left in a blaze of mistakes.” Ezra waved a lazy hand in the air, clutching a glass of wine in the other. “Don’t doubt the English teacher, mate.”
“I am pretty prodigious,” I agreed, all self-important grandeur.
“Prodigious?” Jude carried in some water and a stack of glasses. “More like promiscuous, innit?”
Aww, man. Just as I’d been about to join Ashby on the sofa, maybe even try for a kiss and a cheeky grope. Well—no. I knew better. But a boy could dream.
“Not anymore,” Dom was quick to jump in. “Kieran and Ashby figured things out.”
Ezra’s head snapped around, like a cat who’d spotted delicious, bite-sized prey. “Did they?”
“Figured what out?” Jude asked.
“That they’re in love,” Dom said, like the awesome mate he was.
I dropped onto the sofa, slung an arm around Ashby’s shoulders, and smiled, catching the slightest upwards hitch of Ashby’s mouth when I confirmed it. “Yeah, what Dom said.”
“Wow, really?” Jude perched on the armrest of the sofa. Then he frowned, eyes narrowing. “Wait, are you all just having me on? Since when are you”—he shot me a suspicious look—“gay?”
Oh, for Christ’s sake. As a policeman, shouldn’t he, like, serve the community and all? I didn’t feel very served right now, what with Ashby already on edge about the whole thing.
“I’m bi,” I informed Jude.
“Since when?”
“Since he kissed me,” Dom threw in, and thank God I’d already told Ashby about that part. Didn’t stop him from shifting just slightly away, and nope, this wasn’t going according to plan.
“Mistletoe made Dom and me do it,” I said firmly.
“Ash, however, I actually want to kiss. No holiday-infused peer pressure involved.” I made sure to hold Ashby’s gaze when I said it and was rewarded with a proper smile and what might be a faint flush to his cheeks.
Funny—I’d never taken him for the blushing type, maybe because he’d always seemed so laid-back about his boyfriends.
Which… well. Apparently, none of them had mattered.
“I, for one, am not surprised. Always thought there was something just a little too intense about that friendship of yours.” Ezra stated it with the smugness of someone who feels validated, kind of like Dom last night.
His advice, once he’d stopped gloating, had been to skip the romance and jump straight into bed because there was no way Ashby would actually say no to me.
Not helpful.
“Can we please stop this conversation from happening?” Ashby asked, voice plaintive. “It’s all still quite new, okay? Nothing official yet, so…”
“I’m wooing him,” I explained, because hey, might as well make it a public statement.
“I did not agree to any wooing,” Ashby said with just a hint of his usual spark. Good. I didn’t want him to suddenly hold back around me.
“You agreed to let me prove myself,” I told him. “That implies wooing.”
“What’s this—some Jane Austen period piece?” he asked, at odds with the subtly pleased quirk to his lips. His whole attention was on me, and that wasn’t new, but I’d always been just a little addicted to it. Go figure.
“Get a room, you two,” Dom drawled from the floor, and Jude huffed out a chuckle.
“Sorry, lads, but not here. I only just changed the sheets.”
I tore my attention away from Ashby to find the others watching us—Dom with a small smirk, Ezra looking sweetly pleased, and Jude with a mix of amusement and lingering surprise. I grinned at him. “That’s okay—I don’t mind changing them again after.”
“Pizza,” Ashby said loudly. “Who wants some pizza? Because I do.”
“Smooth,” Ezra said, gently mocking. “What’s next—the weather?”
“In case you were wondering,” Ashby said, “I hate you all.” His eyes were bright, though, and he was leaning into me just enough that it registered. It felt like progress.