Chapter 24
Leaving his car at the café, Kieran wanders the Coast with no real plan, just this restless itch under his skin that keeps him moving. He’s stalling. Stretching the day so he doesn’t have to go home to the huge apartment and face the silence—and the murder cat.
The walk doesn’t feel particularly relaxing.
The streets he walks and places he sees are mostly the same as he remembers, but there’s this…
weird air around them. Around him. It’s heavy and a little suffocating, like he’s carrying around both versions of himself, and they’re not sure how to fit together.
At some point, he ends up outside his old apartment complex, the one with the peeling paint and the palm tree that never stopped shedding giant fronds like it had a personal vendetta against cars. Just another of those things that haven’t changed.
Soon, though he doesn’t know when, this will be the place he’ll return to, once the stupid spell runs its course.
At first, the reassurance that he would eventually come back to his old life is what kept him sane.
But now? The prospect isn’t as thrilling anymore.
To him, it was only last week that he finished work and stepped through the door of this very building, then took the lift to his apartment, yet it feels like another lifetime.
Maybe he got used to this place, this life, more than he realized. He can’t tell if it’s a good thing. It might make his stay here easier, but what about when the time comes to go back?
His chest constricts, a lump rising in his throat. He shakes his head, as if that will get rid of the intruding, confusing thoughts.
He continues wandering aimlessly, only stopping to eat when he passes by his favorite kebab place (still there, thank god!). It’s not until his feet feel like falling off that he makes his way back to the café to collect his car and get his ass home, even though Ash won’t be back for a while.
The first thing he notices when he pushes the door open isn’t the quiet of the apartment, or two yellow-brown eyes glaring at him, but the pair of dress shoes propped neatly on the rack by the door.
Ash is home already? It’s only—he checks his watch—half past two.
His stomach does this odd little flip. It’s just shoes, but the sight still knocks him off balance. He’d been preparing for empty rooms, for an afternoon spent trying to fill up the silence with movies and junk food. He hadn’t expected to be the one to come home to someone.
He hears footsteps before Ash’s frame fills the doorway to the bedroom, shirt partially unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. His hair’s a mess, like he ran a hand through it too many times. A stark opposite to how neatly styled it was before he left this morning.
“Kieran.”
Fuck. He’s never gonna get used to the sound of his name coming from Ash’s lips.
“Hey. Back already? Slacking at work, are we?” He forces a grin, hoping humor will cut through the tension that has made its home in his chest.
“Despite appearances, I’m not a workaholic. And there are only so many life stories you can listen to in a day.”
“Yeah, fair point. I could never.” He shivers. He can barely handle his own mess of a life. “You okay? What got you so fidgety?” He’s not used to seeing Ash so serious, or without that trademark smug expression that always hints he’s up to no good. It’s a little worrying.
“Nothing.”
Correction: it’s very worrying. Ash doesn’t want to talk? Dissect something in so much detail there’s not a spot left untouched? The world must be ending.
Tequila chooses that moment to do a figure eight between Ash’s legs. He smiles at her and picks her up, conveniently avoiding Kieran’s gaze.
No way is Kieran letting this opportunity pass by.
Kicking his shoes off, he makes his way over, then casually leans his hip against the kitchen island.
“I hear communication is essential.” He keeps his voice light, teasing.
“Throwing that at me, huh?” Ash rolls his eyes, a small smile flickering. “It’s stupid. I just… I got home, and you weren’t here.”
Kieran’s eyebrows climb high. “Am I not allowed to go out?” Anger starts bubbling under his skin, and he crosses his arms. “Did you expect me to sit on my ass and wait for you?” Is this one of their ‘rules’? No way in hell is Kieran playing that game.
“No. No, of course not,” Ash says resolutely, like the idea never even occurred to him. Okay. Good. “But it’s the first time we’ve been apart in a while and…I guess I panicked.” His chuckle is wry. “Told you it’s stupid.”
Wow. So even Ash Nothing-Will-Ever-Shake-Me Cleaver can get anxious.
Good thing it’s not a regular occurrence, because Kieran doesn’t quite know how to handle this version of him.
“If you were so worried, you could’ve called,” he points out.
“I didn’t want to seem controlling.”
Kieran blinks, then bursts out laughing. “That ship sailed so long ago, it’s basically a dot on the horizon.”
Ash laughs with him, probably realizing how dumb he sounds. “Touché.” He puts Tequila down, way more gently than she deserves, then stands there like a mannequin in a thrift store window.
“What?”
“Can I…”
“Geez, spit it out. I don’t read minds, dude.”
Ash’s throat bobs. “Can I hug you?”
Kieran’s brows flick up. He sweeps his gaze around, low-key expecting to find a hidden camera.
“Okay?” he says, not sure why he’s agreeing. Technically, he doesn’t really have a reason to refuse. “But fair warning, I’ve been walking around for half a day, so I must be pretty ri— Oof.”
His face gets squished against Ash’s neck. Ash’s arms around him are just this side of too tight—not enough to cut off his air supply, but firm enough that wriggling out would be a challenge, if he wanted to do that.
Interestingly, he doesn’t.
Ash doesn’t hug him like someone who said ‘see you later’ just this morning. He hugs him like they’ve been separated by a war for years, unsure if they’d ever see each other again.
“Damn. Who knew you’d be the clingy type.”
“Only with you,” Ash replies softly. The raw honesty in that confession makes it impossible to formulate a snarky comeback.
Something clicks inside him, a push he can’t ignore.
His hands rise almost on instinct, settling in the middle of Ash’s back.
Reluctant, uncertain. But Ash responds like he’s been waiting for it all along.
His arms tighten around Kieran, not forcefully, but with a quiet insistence, as if asking for more.
Kieran exhales, letting go of his last ounce of restraint. His arms slide around Ash’s waist, returning the hug for real. There’s a subtle shift, the faint pressure of Ash leaning into him.
Huh. Maybe I’m not the only one with abandonment issues.
To Kieran’s surprise, Ash is the first to let go. There’s a faint flush to his cheeks, as if he’s embarrassed for showing the human side of him, not just the impenetrable, unshakable persona he presents to the world.
His fingers run over Kieran’s cheekbone, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “How was your day?”
Kieran swallows, his skin burning where Ash touched it. “You could say it was mind-opening.”
“You went to see Gabe?” Ash correctly guesses.
“He says I’m a natural.”
“Of course you are.”
“Hey!”
“I’m not teasing,” Ash promises. “You are way smarter and more capable than you give yourself credit for.”
It’s Kieran’s turn to blush. He’s been doing that a lot lately, and he’s not loving it.
Ash grins, like he knows what the praise does to him. Of course he does. “You wanna test it out with me?”
‘No, thanks’ should be the immediate reply. There’s been enough poking around his…well, everything for one day. But how else is he supposed to know that what he learned is good enough to withstand Ash’s probing?
“Fine, but go easy on me. It was my first time.”
“I’ll be gentle,” Ash says, eyes gleaming in the way that suggests the opposite. “Ready?”
Once the forcefield is up and running, Kieran nods, bringing up the image of his apartment building. Since it’s fresh in his mind, it should be easy to hold.
Ash’s irises shift, his gaze boring into Kieran’s.
Kieran’s heartrate spikes, nerves making him squirm, but he stands his ground.
He even manages to reinforce the barrier when he feels a push.
It’s weird, like someone passing by and briefly brushing against him.
Again, he finds himself thinking that it feels nowhere near as invasive as when Gabe did it.
“How did I do?” he asks once Ash’s irises are back to their normal color.
“Couldn’t see anything.” Ash’s smile is proud, and he ruffles Kieran’s hair. “Smart cookie.”
Kieran scowls at being petted like a dog, but doesn’t move away. It’s not too terrible of a feeling anyway. “Do I get a treat?”
“You will. What do you want?”
It was a joke, but whatever. “Foot massage.” His feet are still killing him. Not that Ash would agree to something so below him—
“Deal.”
“Wait, really?”
“Why not?”
“Well, I…” Looking down at his socked, no doubt smelly feet, Kieran scrunches his nose. “They’re feet. It’s weird.”
“No, it’s not. Come on.” He takes Kieran’s hand and pulls him towards the sofa. “We can watch something in the meantime.”
Naturally, the first thumbnail on the TV belongs to Road House, asking them if they want to resume watching.
“Lusting after other men when I’m not around.” Ash clicks his tongue.
“I wasn’t! I just love the original, and Jake is an A-class actor.” He frowns. “Why am I defending myself to you?”
“Maybe you feel guilty.”
“Do not.”
“Hmm.”
Despite the nagging, Ash presses play and the movie resumes where Kieran left off. He pulls Kieran’s feet into his lap, effectively sending him flat on his back.
“Hold on a sec.” Kieran pulls himself up. “I need to shower. This is gross.”
“It’s not gross.”
“I’ve been walking for hours, Ash. Hey!”
“It’s not gross,” Ash repeats, taking one sock off, then the other. Kieran expects him to be knocked out cold by the stink any second. “It’s you, and you are lovely, head to toe. There’s nothing gross about you.”