Page 130 of Should Our Stars Collide

“Right.” He shows no indication that he intends to give Kieran privacy.

“What are you standing there for? Shoo.”

“Can’t I watch?”

“No! You’ve seen enough!”

Ash mutters something that sounds like ‘never enough’, but runs away when Kieran throws a shoe at him.

Freaking Ash, acting like his usual pervy self after being broody all day for no known reason. It’s been the most bizarre 24 hours, and that’s saying something.

Kieran still can’t quite believe what happened yesterday. Ash had his mouth on him in a way Kieran never thought he’d allow, let alone enjoy, and then he’d just let Ash finish all over him, like it was nothing unusual. And yeah, maybe for the future version of him that is true, but for him? It’s the kind of filth that should come with a lifetime membership to some underground club.

Still, Kieran hadn’t stopped it. He keeps circling back to the sheer insanity of it, that dizzying mix of mortification and thrill that had overtaken his body like a separate entity, forcing him to do things he’d never have imagined before. He fucking sat on Ash’s dumb, attractive face, for crying out loud. How insane is that?

And after? After, Ash had been infuriatingly normal. He’d kissed Kieran long and deep, so he wouldn’t have a chance to overthink, wiped him down, and made him drink coconut lychee water. Then he started talking about where to get lunch before work, like they hadn’t just redefined depravity together.

Kieran kept waiting for the awkwardness to land, for the embarrassment to catch up, but it never came. He had wanted to be weird about it, but Ash hadn’t given him the chance.

Now, though, the tables have turned. Ash has been off all day—and last night, when Kieran had joined him in bed after taking a shower.At first he worried Ash was upset with him, but quickly shot that idea down. If he had a problem with Kieran, he’d likely take it out on his ass, not give him the silent treatment. Plus, he’d still kissed him goodnight and stroked his hair until Kieran fell asleep. And then there’s the fact that he’s been glaring at his phone intermittently, as if waiting for a delayed Amazon delivery.

What’s most unsettling about the whole thing is the silence. Ash is never quiet; he fills every space, every pause, withsomething. Granted, it’s generally something dumb and irritating, but it’s become such a natural part of everyday life that the absence of it feels cold and foreign.

Today, there’s something tense and guarded around him. Kieran knows what it looks like when someone’s in their head, gnawing on some invisible thing, and the realization makes his chest tight. For once, it isn’t him squirming under the weight of unspoken things, Ash is. And that’s worse, because Kieran’s almost never on this side of things. The only time he’d been there was with Dawson, and back then he hadn’t found a way to help him. He has no idea how to help now, either, and that eats at him.

Ash slips back into his usual funny, composed persona once they join everyone at the restaurant. Kieran has a niggling feeling it’s all just an act. Still, Ash jokes with everyone, makes jabs at Gabe whenever he can, and sucks up to Carrie like he wants her to disown her son and adopt him instead. It’s good to see him smile again, even if it might be a little feigned. That being said, Kieran will interrogate him once the dinner is over.

And he has to admit, the whole experience isn’t bad, not in the way he’d dreaded. Yes, Gabe and Zeke deserve duct tape over their mouths, and Carrie? Carrie would require a whole isolation cell, but it’s actually quite nice. It feels good to be included, to be wanted somewhere, notjust tolerated.

Everyone but Zeke lets out a collective sigh of relief when Carrie excuses herself to the restroom.

Kieran turns to Gabe, who is perusing his fork like he’s contemplating jamming it into his jugular just to escape.

“So, your mum is…a character.”

Gabe’s forehead drops to the table. “You can say that again.”

“Very hot too,” Zeke chimes in.

Gabe lifts his head to show his disgusted expression.

“She’s a very beautiful lady,” Ellis offers diplomatically. It doesn’t have quite the desired effect, as Gabe fixes him with a betrayed look. “I mean, you look a lot like her.”

“It’s a cross I need to bear.”

“Are you an only child?” Kieran asks. “She seems like she likes to adopt random people.” Ash and Zeke clearly love her, although Ellis seems to be her current favorite.

“She does that,” Ash confirms his observation. There’s something faraway in his gaze, a sort of nostalgia. Did Kieran accidently hit a sore spot?

“She does,” Ellis agrees. “Works wonders for mummy issues. Or daddy issues.”

“I can attest to that,” Ash says. It’s the most he’s ever revealed about his own family’s dynamic. Not that Kieran ever asked, but he’s surprised that Ash—the same person who likes to run his mouth and dig deep into personal issues—has never shared anything about it. Does the other Kieran know? He must, right? Like, it’s been two years, surely Ash must’ve confided in him.

It’s way too soon and no one is ready when Carrie returns to the table.

“What did I miss?” She smiles knowingly. “Were you talking about me?”

Dawson and Ellis quickly start to deny it, but Gabe, Ash and Zeke reply with a loud “Yes.”