Page 10 of Should Our Stars Collide

Ash takes the phone and zooms in. Good god, straight people’s tastes will never fail to astound him.

Unimpressed, he turns the phone around. “I spent the past hour trying to get you overthis?”

She stares at the picture, and her expression twists. “He looks better in a different lighting.”

“You mean in the dark?”

Dawson guffaws, and quickly covers it up. “Sorry.”

“If you need to cry over someone, at least pick a guy who’s worth the tears. I even feel bad charging you.” Ash sighs and hands her the phone. “I’ll see you in three weeks.Andyou better start the session with: You were so right, Ash. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

She nods quickly and smiles, her tears having dried up. Giving the picture another glance, she grimaces. “Shit, I really needed that reality check. Thank you! You’re a legend.”

“Happy to help,” Ash says drily. “Go getthat hot chocolate, Jenny.”

“I will. See ya!”

Ash waves after her. Shifting his gaze to Dawson, he steps aside, gesturing inside his office. “Your turn, mister.”

Dawson doesn’t move. He stares at Ash, nonplussed. “And here I thought that you don’t hold back inoursessions.”

Ash rolls his eyes. “You have no idea how easy I’m going on you.”

“That’s disturbing, but kind of sweet?” He walks inside. “Can you really be that blunt with your patients?”

“Technically, the session was already over. Let’s call it friendly advice.”

Dawson’s skeptical expression makes him laugh. Some people just need brutal honesty, okay?

He returns to his chair while Dawson takes a seat on the sofa, making an instant grab for the chunky plushie.

“Nice of you to promote your cousin’s business while running yours, by the way.”

“It works out pretty well, yeah.” Not to brag or anything, but Ash is totally responsible for Gabe’s café flourishing.

They share a laugh. As it slowly trails off, Ash focuses on taking Dawson in. What he sees makes him smile. “You look well. Something good happen?” He might not have Gabe’s ability to sort through people’s emotions like punnets of strawberries in a grocery store, but Dawson’s energy is so bright and strong today even he can see it.

Dropping his gaze, Dawson focuses on the plushie with a little too much intensity. “Well…”

“You’re blushing,” Ash points out, just to be a dick.

“Ugh, I hate my face,” Dawson groans, touching his overheated cheeks. He pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged, the plushie hugged to his chest like a protective shield. “Cal and I are doing pretty good right now. We even had…” He clears his throat, the volume of his voice dropping. “We even made love.”

Ash hurries to rein in his surprise. It’s not often that something takes him aback, at least not at work. Then again, ever since he started seeing Dawson, he’d found himself surprised more times than he caresto admit.

“How do you feel about it?”

Dawson shoots him a disgruntled look, which is undermined by his intensifying flush. “Can’t you tell?”

“I can. I just get a kick out of seeing you flustered,” Ash says, seeing no point in lying. Dawson knows him well enough by now.

Dawson huffs. “Dick.”

Ash chuckles. “I mean it. It’s a good look on you.” The way Dawson sends a shy smile towards his lap is more endearing than it has any right to be. Ash knows he shouldn’t have favorites among patients, but ah well… he’s broken about every therapist-patient rule there is. So what if he’s a little too invested in a patient’s well-being? “I assume intimacy is back on the table, then?”

“I… Yeah. I mean…” Dawson rubs the back of his neck. “We’ve already done it once—actually, two more times. Or maybe three? I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”