Page 121 of Should Our Stars Collide

Since Ash displayed way more self-control when he was dry-humping him, Kieran can’t doubt him even if he wanted.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Ash echoes, smiling like the little shit he is.

“Question: how do I safeword out if I can’t speak?” Or breathe.

Ash’s smile goes positively sinister, like a lion preparing to pounce on a helpless gazelle. “I guess you’re in deep shit.”

Eyes wide, Kieran fists his shirt. “Wait?—”

“You brought this upon yourself.”

When Ash takes his mouth like a land he just conquered, Kieran’s no more prepared than he was the first time around. In fact, he’s starting to get a feeling he’ll never be prepared for the force that’s Ash Cleaver.

But for once, he’s strangely okay with it.

26

Over the next week, Kieran somehow stumbles into what he’d thought would never be in the cards for him: a routine.

Ash always wakes early for his morning run, then goes to work like the responsible adult he is, leaving Kieran behind to do absolutely nothing of value. The couple of hours Kieran graciously spends doing some actual work barely count, especially given how many breaks he takes. Not that money is an issue, but it does feel weird—not contributing to capitalism for the first time in his life.

Most days he makes the rounds, dropping in to see Dee and make up for all the time they lost while he was married to Dickhead. Against his better judgment, Kieran even starts to get used to Cal the Reaper. Funny how an entity from a different plane of existence is much more likable than the piece of human excrement that used to be there in his place.

He also ends up at the café more often than not, because coffee counts as a hobby. As does watching Zeke shit himself every time Kieran shows up. He’s not even mad anymore—he’s stopped researching sites for body-dumping, at least—but seeing Zeke squirm is way too much fun. No harm in making him sweat for a little longer.

When he’s home, he powers through theMarvelbacklog like it’s his job.Thunderboltsends up sticking with him. It has everything: misfits, trauma, bad attitudes, whilesomehow still managing to save the world. He only relates to the first three.

Tequila usually watches with him, but he has a feeling she’s mostly there to keep an eye on him. For what, he has no clue. She hasn’t tried to kill him in his sleep, so that’s something. Kieran swears that Puss in Boots was based on her, because it’s frankly ridiculous how she changes from a murder machine to the cuddliest fluffball on earth when Ash steps through the door.

Freaking Ash… Dude’s at work for hours, and Kieran spends most of them thinking about him in some capacity. Shit, he’s no better than the cat. Not just during the day, counting the minutes until Ash gets home, but at night too. Because they don’t even bother with separate beds anymore.

At first, Kieran told himself it was just convenient—the mattress is to die for!—but the lie barely lasted a day. He knows why he’s there. The second Ash slides in beside him, his entire body unclenches, as if the man holds the switch to Kieran’s nervous system. When Ash is next to him, holding him like there’s no place he’d rather be, his whole being whispers:everything is okay, now. You’re safe.

He tried so hard to keep some space between them, to stop the fall before it was too late. But somewhere between the kiss that knocked the air out of him, the sting of Ash’s hand, the looks that speak louder than words, Kieran has stopped falling.

He’s already hit the ground.

And yet, it feels like he’s sinking deeper with every day that passes in Ash’s company.

If anything, it should be the opposite. That’s how it’s always been for Kieran. He’d meet someone, sparks would fly, and as he’d get to know the other person better, the infatuation would wear off, eventually transforming into indifference.

But not with Ash. The more he learns about him, the more his grip on his emotions slips. And it makes no freaking sense.

What is so endearing about a grown-ass man screaming like a little girl and calling for Kieran’s help when he encounters a cockroach in the bathroom? What’s so sexy about a man whoknitsand has made you jumpers in three different colors, with matching scarfs?! Why is itmore funny than annoying that your boyfriend can read minds, but is incapable of putting together a bookshelf from IKEA, so you need to do it yourself before he loses a finger?

The answer is: nothing. Nothing!

The conclusion is clear—Kieran’s gone insane. And that’s not all.

The worst thing is he has no idea where to go from here, because this isn’t somewhere he ever expected to find himself. He never meant to hand his heart over to anyone, let alone someone who could break it with a single word. But it happened anyway, despite his best efforts. Despite the wall he kept rebuilding every time Ash managed to knock it down. He’s already in too deep, already ruined for anyone else.

The wild, unthinkable part of it—the part that keeps him awake staring at the ceiling, listening to Ash breathe—is that maybe he doesn’t mind. Maybe he’s even grateful. Because for the first time in his life, he doesn’t just feel wanted. He feels chosen. Not just leftovers someone had no choice but to pick up, but someone worth fighting for, someone worth sticking around for.

Even if the person who did the choosing and the fighting is the most aggravating prick on the planet.

But he doesn’t mind that either.