Chapter 38
Ash always knew Kieran’s a little unhinged—one of many things that intrigued him in the first place—but he’d never have guessed he’d end up being followed. From his workplace, no less.
Kieran’s parting warning echoes in his mind on repeat like a broken record. Every day, he braces himself for something—for Kieran to barge through the door to his office while he’s in the middle of a session, armed with a scowl and sheer determination.
He expects to find him on his doorstep, holding his apartment hostage (unlikely, since he’d have to get through double-security, but you never know with him). Or at Lost and Ground, lurking in the corner.
Deciding to minimize the risk, he’s started cheating on Gabe with a mediocre café joint around the corner from his office. He blames Kieran for his current, subpar coffee experience.
He hasn’t been to any bars either. That one wasn’t hard to give up; last time, he was only there to try to get over Kieran.
Jared was the same height and build, same soft, round face, hair color only a shade darker, but that’s where the similarities ended.
Jared was bubbly and trusting, eating up all the half-baked attempts at flirting.
No sarcastic remarks, no attitude, no talking back.
No Kieran.
Sigh. Ash hates to admit it, but he was kinda relieved when Jared took off like he couldn’t get into the shower fast enough.
That was last week. Ash has been holding his breath since, waiting for Kieran to inevitably show up like he owns the day, but he hasn’t. It shouldn’t come as a surprise—after all, Ash has made it more difficult to be caught off-guard. Still, he’s been feeling restless.
Not because he wants to see Kieran. Not because he misses him. Not because he can’t forget the words that spilled out of his mouth that night, striking Ash’s heart like a bolt of lightning. Not because he’s been waiting his whole life for someone to call his own.
He’s on edge because this waiting game is exhausting. It makes it impossible to focus on his work, his patients, who actually need his attention.
If they could just get it over with, that would be great.
Ash gets his wish granted three days later. Kinda.
After organizing the patient files and locking the office, he finds Kieran waiting for him outside. He’s leaning against his car, arms folded on his chest and legs crossed at the ankles, glaring hard at the entrance like that could’ve summoned Ash quicker.
“Fucking finally,” he exclaims when Ash walks out. “What took you so long?”
What an entitled brat. Ash smothers a smile.
“I don’t remember making plans with you.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” Twisting sideways, Kieran opens the passenger door and steps aside. “Get in.”
So not only stalking—but kidnapping too.
“And go where?”
“Where the fuck do you think?” Kieran huffs impatiently. “We’re going on a fucking date. Now get your ass in the car.”
Ignoring the tightening of his pants, Ash says, “Kieran, we’ve talked about this.”
“And I warned you to brace yourself.”
“This is payback, isn’t it? For riling you up all this time.”
He hasn’t been able to figure out what made Kieran do a complete one-eighty, and looking into his mind hasn’t cleared up anything either.
His first guess would be that this is all an elaborate revenge plot, but…
Kieran almost had a panic attack when Ash turned him down that day.
That wasn’t the reaction of someone who’s just playing a game.
“There’s been no railing yet.”
“That’s not what I sa—”
“It’s time for you to take responsibility.”
Ash blinks. “For?”
Kieran eyes him with disbelief, as if it should be obvious. “This is all your fault. I was living a chill, unremarkable life as a completely straight guy content in his misery until you came along.”
Ash’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’m…sorry?”
“You should be,” Kieran grunts. “Look, I don’t know how I managed to lose it over the biggest asshole on the planet, who also happens to be a guy.
I don’t know and I don’t care. The point is, you destroyed my straightness.
My life is fucking mayhem thanks to you.
And I’m gonna hold you accountable.” He snaps his fingers and points inside the car, as if ordering a dog. “Get. In. The fucking car.”
Ash gets in the fucking car because there’s a very real chance that if he stands there any longer, watching Kieran fume in all his grumpy glory, he’s going to bend him over the hood and spank the attitude out of him until he’s a blabbering, begging mess.
“That temper of yours will get you in trouble one day,” he informs him, brushing up against Kieran’s arm as he slides into the seat.
Kieran’s fingers tighten around the edge of the door and he gazes down at Ash with a heat that doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of anger.
Prompted by curiosity, and a smidge of masochism, Ash peers into Kieran’s thoughts and nearly swallows his tongue.
He sees Kieran bent over a kitchen counter, underwear around his ankles and face tear-streaked.
His ass is bright-red, marked with what Ash would swear is an imprint of his hand.
A mumbled string of pleas and apologies is spilling from his bitten lips.
He’s fucking perfect. So much better than anything Ash has imagined.
How on earth are Kieran’s thoughts so clear and sharp? They feel more like a memory, the details too precise to be a product of imagination. Maybe Kieran’s imagination is just very…vivid? Or he’s thought of it so often it became realistic.
Fuck. Ash is in trouble.
He withdraws from Kieran’s mind quickly, before he does something that will earn them both a night in jail.
Kieran smirks, like he… Shit, like he knows what just happened. Like he knows about Ash.
“I’m counting on it,” he says and slams the door shut.
Yeah, Ash is in big, biiig trouble.
Is Kieran a criminal mastermind, or just absurdly lucky?
Ash hasn’t been able to answer that yet.
Out of every place on the Coast he could’ve kidnapped him to, it had to be his favorite Indian restaurant.
There’s no way he knows that, because Ash only discovered the venue a couple months back.
And the last time he came here was when Kieran still couldn’t stand him, so there’s little chance he stalked him back then too.
Which leaves luck. And honestly, luck is almost more dangerous, because it makes Kieran’s crazy look like fate.
So now he’s here, sitting across from him, trying not to stare while Kieran gobbles up the appetizer like he hasn’t eaten in a week.
By the time the mains arrive, he’s working through curry and naan with the focus of a bear preparing for hibernation.
When manners were being handed out, they must’ve skipped him, but Ash can’t stop watching.
And that’s the problem—no matter what he does, he can never take his eyes off Kieran. It’s been a problem since the day they met. Although, back then it was his dick that was largely responsible for the hyperfixation. It’s not as simple now. Now, his fucking heart is on the line.
The stupid organ won’t quit. It’s hammering in his chest like a warning alarm, except instead of making him backtrack, it just makes him want to laugh. He hides it behind a sip of water, blaming the spices for the heat in his face, but he knows better.
Because really, who falls for someone—well, falls even harder for them—over the way they inhale food? Apparently, he does. And if Kieran keeps grinning at him between bites like this, Ash is done for.
Kieran points his spoon at Ash’s plate, barely touched. “Not hungry?”
Oh, he is hungry, just not for curry.
“I had my lunch late today.”
Kieran grumbles something like “Could’ve said something, fuck’s sake” and does a gimme motion with his fingers. Ash hands the plate over reluctantly. He always asks for extra spicy, and he doesn’t want Kieran to hate him tomorrow.
He rests his chin on his interlaced hands, watching Kieran go berserk on the seconds. Clearly, his mouth is made of durasteel.
“Wha’?” Kieran tries to say through a mouthful. There’s a big, orangey-red spot on the corner of his mouth.
“I’m just impressed. For such a beanpole, you sure can eat.”
Kieran takes his sweet time chewing.
“My anger issues burn a lot of calories.”
“I can see that.”
He doesn’t know what face he makes, but Kieran’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s something. Just spit it out. I have a spoon and I know how to use it.”
“I just thought—” that I could kiss you “—that you have quite a big mouth.”
Kieran pauses, as if his brain is working on interpreting the comment. “I’m sure you meant that metaphorically,” he says, lips twitching.
“Of course.”
Maintaining eye-contact, Kieran slides the spoon into his mouth before pulling it out through the tight seal of his lips. It makes a smacking sound as it pops free. Then, the little shit smirks.
Ash watches it all in slow motion, as if in a trance. His dick is threatening to burst through the zipper, and Kieran’s eyes sparkle like he knows.
Ash has no idea where all that confidence is coming from, but fuck, he’s loving it. With a sigh of defeat, he reaches over to wipe away the stain in the corner of Kieran’s mouth. And if his touch lingers a little longer than necessary, who can even judge him?
“You’re a menace.”
Kieran licks his lips, shy of getting Ash’s thumb.
“I think you like it.”
“Never said I didn’t.”
It’s how much he likes it that’s the problem. He’s not used to this, to not having a tight grip on his feelings. His whole life has been about control, about conquering his mind, and sometimes the minds of others as well.
Look at him now; he can barely glance at the man in front of him and not lose himself.