Chapter 14 Jared
As we arrived in Paris, I could feel the magic in the air. It was a feeling that only intensified as Asher and I made our way to the Eiffel Tower. We climbed the stairs in comfortable silence, our shoulders brushing occasionally as we navigated the narrow steps.
At the top, the view was breathtaking, the city sprawling out before us in a sea of twinkling lights and ancient spires. I could see the wonder in Asher's eyes as he took it all in, his face softening with a kind of childlike awe.
Behind us, Mason and Dylan were engaged in their usual bickering, their voices carrying on the warm summer breeze.
"I'm just saying, Mase, if you're going to wear a beret, you have to commit to the bit," Dylan said, his tone teasing. "You can't just plop it on your head and call it a day. You have to tilt it at a jaunty angle, maybe add a little scarf action. Really lean into the whole French aesthetic."
Mason rolled his eyes, adjusting the hat self-consciously. "I don't need fashion advice from a man who thinks leopard print is a neutral, Dyl. Besides, I'm not trying to look like a walking cliché. I just thought the beret was cool."
"Oh, it's cool alright," Dylan smirked. "In a ‘ I'm a tourist who just bought this from a street vendor and I'm going to wear it in every photo ' kind of way. Honestly, you look like a lost tourist."
"Screw you," Mason grumbled, but there was no real heat behind his words. "At least I'm not the one who almost got us kicked out of the Louvre for trying to take a selfie with the Mona Lisa while standing too close."
"Hey, that guard totally overreacted," Dylan protested, his hands flying up in a gesture of mock outrage. "I just wanted to get a pic with my girl Mona. Not my fault she's so popular."
Asher and I shared an amused glance, our eyes meeting in a moment of silent understanding. It was a reminder of the easy camaraderie that had once existed between us, the sense of connection that had somehow gotten lost in the chaos of recent events.
I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a rush of nervousness as I turned to face him. "Listen, Ash, I know things have been weird between us lately. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. Not just as your bodyguard, but as your friend. And I think maybe it's time we start being honest with each other about what we're feeling."
Asher stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. And then, slowly, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"I'd like that," he said softly, his hand reaching out to grasp mine in a firm handshake. "And I'm sorry for being such a difficult client. I know I haven't made your job easy, with all my mood swings and impulsive behavior."
I felt a warmth bloom in my chest. "You don't have to apologize, Ash. I know how hard this has all been for you. I just want to be there for you, in whatever way I can. In whatever way you’ll let me."
He smiled then, a real smile that lit up his whole face.
That night, high on adrenaline and the thrill of the performance, Asher and I found ourselves wandering the streets of Paris, the city taking on a dreamlike quality in the soft glow of the streetlights. We walked for hours, our conversation flowing as easily as the Seine, the barriers between us seeming to melt away with every step.
"I've always wondered what it would be like to just disappear for a while," Asher mused, his voice taking on a wistful tone. "To just pack a bag and hop on a train, see where it takes me. No responsibilities, no expectations, just the open road and the promise of adventure."
I chuckled, bumping my shoulder against his playfully. "And leave all your adoring fans behind? I don't think they'd take too kindly to that, rock star."
He grinned. "True. But a man can dream, can't he? Besides, I'd make sure to leave a trail of cryptic clues for them to follow, keep them on their toes. It would be like a big, elaborate scavenger hunt."
"Very mysterious," I teased, my voice taking on a faux-serious tone. "The Disappearance of Asher Roth, coming soon to a conspiracy theory forum near you."
He laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet of the night like a bell. "Okay, your turn. Tell me something the world doesn't know about the enigmatic Jared. And I want the juicy stuff, none of this ' I secretly love rom-coms ' bullshit."
I raised an eyebrow, my lips twitching with amusement. "Oh, so you think you've got me all figured out, do you? Well, prepare to be shocked and amazed, because I'll have you know that I am a man of many secrets."
"Do tell," he purred. "I'm all ears."
"When I was in the Marines, there was this one mission that went sideways. We were supposed to be doing a routine patrol, but we ended up walking straight into an ambush. It was chaos, bullets flying everywhere, people screaming. And in the middle of it all, there was this little girl, couldn't have been more than six or seven years old. She was just standing there, frozen in terror, while the world exploded around her."
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly tight with emotion. "I didn't even think, I just reacted. I ran to her, scooped her up in my arms and started running, trying to get her to safety. And the whole time, all I could think about was my little sister, how I would have done anything to keep her safe."
Asher was silent for a moment, his eyes wide and shining in the darkness. "What happened to the girl?" he asked softly, his hand reaching out to grasp mine.
"She made it," I said, my voice rough with remembered relief. "We both did. But it was too close. And afterwards, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I had been given a second chance, a reason to keep fighting even when things seemed hopeless."
Asher nodded, his fingers tightening around mine. "I know what you mean," he murmured, his gaze distant and thoughtful.
Eventually, we found ourselves in a quiet park. Asher tugged me towards a bench, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled me down beside him.
To my surprise, he curled into me, his head coming to rest on my chest as he let out a contented sigh. "I love this," he murmured, his voice soft and dreamy.
I smiled, my arm instinctively wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer. "What?" I asked, my fingers playing idly with the soft strands of his hair.
He was quiet for a moment, his breath warm against my neck. "Everything," he said at last, his voice heavy with emotion. "Just you and me and the stars. No expectations, no hiding from the paparazzi, no fear of disappointing the fans."
My arm tightened around Asher, a fierce protectiveness welling up in my chest. "You don't have to hide with me," I said softly. "I see you, Asher. The real you. And I think you're incredible."
Asher's breath hitched, his fingers curling into my shirt. "Even the broken parts? The anxious, insecure, messed-up parts?"
I pressed a kiss to his temple, my lips lingering on the soft skin. "Especially those parts. Because they're what make you human. What make you strong. You've been through so much, and you're still standing. Still creating, still inspiring people. That's a kind of bravery that most people can only dream of."
His eyes flutter closed. "You make me feel so safe, Jared. Like I don't have to be perfect, like I can just be me. God, this city, this night, being here with you. It's like a dream I never want to wake up from."
My heart swelled at his words, a rush of tenderness and longing sweeping through me. But even as I savored the sweetness of the moment, I couldn't help the flicker of doubt that crept in, the nagging fear that this was all too good to be true.
"And what about when we do wake up?" I asked softly. "Will you want to pretend like none of this ever happened?"
Asher stiffened in my arms, his body suddenly tense against mine. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice raw and honest. "But what I do know is that right now, I don't want it to end."
I closed my eyes, my heart aching with the weight of my own conflicted emotions. "Ash, you know this isn't that simple. You're my client, and you've made it clear that you're not ready for the world to know who you really are."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "I know," he said softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "But I'm so tired of hiding, of pretending to be someone I'm not."
"I understand," I said quietly, my hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "More than you know."
And so, as we walked and talked, the words began to pour out of us both, a flood of honesty and vulnerability that washed away the walls we had built around our hearts.
Asher spoke of his anxiety, of the constant fear that gnawed at him, the feeling that he was never quite enough. He talked about the pressure of living up to his public image, of the toll it took to hide such a fundamental part of himself from the world.
I listened, my heart aching for him, for the weight he carried on his shoulders. And in turn, I told him about my time in the military, about the rigid expectations of masculinity that had been drilled into me from a young age.
"But then I met you," I said softly. "And everything changed. You made me question everything I thought I knew about myself, about what I wanted and who I wanted to be."
Asher's eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise. "Jared," he breathed, his hand reaching out to grasp mine.
I smiled, my thumb stroking gently across his knuckles. "Being with you, seeing the way you face your fears and fight for what you believe in, it's inspired me in ways I never could have imagined."
Once back at the hotel, the elevator ride up to our floor seemed to stretch on for an eternity, the air between us thick with tension and unspoken longing. I could feel Asher's presence like a physical force, his body so close to mine that I could almost feel the heat radiating off his skin.
It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to reach out and pull him into my arms, to crush my lips against his and lose myself in the taste and feel of him. But I held back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts as I tried to control the desire that was raging through my veins.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the quiet hallway of our floor. We stepped out, our movements stiff and awkward as we made our way towards Asher's room.
As we reached his door, Asher paused, his hand on the handle, his back to me. And then, slowly, he turned, his eyes finding mine with a look that stole the breath from my lungs.
His lashes were lowered, his lips parted slightly, a silent invitation that made my heart race and my blood burn with need. And before I could stop myself, I was reaching out, my fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear, the soft skin of his cheek like silk beneath my touch.
I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to pour all the longing and tenderness and desire I felt into a single, perfect moment. And from the way his breath hitched, the way his eyes darkened with hunger, I knew that he wanted it too.
We leaned in, our faces just inches apart, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. The world around us faded away, the hotel, Paris, everything disappearing until there was nothing left but the two of us, suspended in a moment of perfect anticipation.
And then, just as our lips were about to meet, a sudden noise from down the hall shattered the spell, causing us both to jump apart like guilty teenagers caught in the act.
We stared at each other for a long moment, our chests heaving, our faces flushed with a mixture of desire and frustration. And then, with a rueful smile, Asher stepped back, his hand finding the door handle once more.
"Goodnight, Jared," he said softly.
"Goodnight," I whispered back, my heart aching with the unspoken promise of later.
And then he was gone, disappearing into his room with a soft click of the door, leaving me alone in the hallway, my body thrumming with need.
I made my way back to my own room in a daze, my mind replaying the moment over and over again, the ghost of Asher's breath on my lips, the heat of his skin beneath my fingers.
But as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, the emptiness of the space hit me like a physical blow, the silence pressing in on me from all sides.
Suddenly, the thought of spending the night alone, of letting this moment slip away, was unbearable. And before I knew what I was doing, I was moving, my feet carrying me back out into the hallway, back towards the one place I knew I needed to be.
I found myself standing outside Asher's door, my heart pounding in my throat, my hand raised to knock. I knew that there was no turning back, no pretending that this was anything less than what it was.
Because I liked Asher, utterly and completely. And I was tired of fighting it, tired of denying the truth that had been staring me in the face all along.
So I knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway like a gunshot. And when Asher opened the door, his eyes wide and shining with a hope that matched my own, I knew that I had made the right choice.
We came together in a rush of heat and hunger, our lips crashing together like waves against the shore. The kiss was electric, a release of all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building between us for weeks, maybe even from the moment we first met.
Asher's hands were everywhere, tugging at my clothes, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric to dance across my skin. And I was lost, drowning in the taste and feel of him, in the way his body molded to mine like it was made to fit there.
We stumbled backwards into the room, our mouths never breaking contact, our hands roaming and exploring with a desperation that bordered on frenzy. In the end, that was what this was all about. Not the fame or the money or the adoration of the crowds. But the simple, perfect truth of two hearts beating as one, two souls finding their way home in the darkness.