Page 106 of Should Our Stars Collide

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 handlehis 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.”