Page 149 of Should Our Stars Collide

“What do you do, Kieran?” his father asks, the words clipped.

“I live on coffee, tequila, and spite,” Kieran says breezily. “Oh, you mean for work? I dabble in IT when I can be bothered. Nothing very respectable by your standards, I’m sure. But I manage to get by without needing to tear down other people’s choices to feel better about my own. You should try it sometime.”

Ash’s laugh slips out before he can strangle it. He hides it behind his hand, but Kieran catches it, his grin widening.

“Kieran,” his mother starts, her smile stiff. As always, she’s trying to mitigate damage. “How long have you known Ashley?”

“Oh, we go waaay back. It’s been long enough to know he’s ten times the man people give him credit for. He’s got more patience than anyone I’ve ever met. Case in point, sitting here and listening to the same tired speech without flipping the table.”

Despite the freezing cold atmosphere, Ash can only feel warmth spreading into every cell of his body.

“Patience,” his father grits out, “has never achieved anything.”

“Debatable. Rome wasn’t built in a day either. But let’s say I agree,” Kieran says, leaning forward slightly. His tone is still infuriatingly polite, while the words are anything but. “You know what is an achievement, though? Building a life that actually means something. One where people are better off because you exist in it. Funny how that gets overlooked in certain circles.”

“You and Ashley must be very close,” his mother says quickly, trying to regain control of the conversation. Ever the peacekeeper, even if the price is someone else’s happiness. Or her own.

Kieran leans back, one arm slung casually over the back of Ash’s chair. “Oh, absolutely. I’d say I know him better than anyone. Better than family, even. And of course, I know him very well in the biblical sense. I assume you can’t relate to that one. At least I hope you can’t. That’d be worrying.” He taps his chin, as if deep in thought. “Then again, you do seem experienced in fucking your children up.”

His voice must carry around because a few heads from thesurrounding tables turn towards them, the people whispering.

The spoon in his father’s hand clangs against the plate.

“Ashley, this is outrageous?—”

The waiter rocks up with Kieran’s order. “Your whiskey-caramel soufflée, sir.”

“Perfect, I was starting to taste something bitter. Need to fix that.” He doesn’t hesitate stuffing his face, speaking through a mouthful. “Wow. This is to die for. Want some?” He offers the spoon to Ash’s father. “No? It’s okay. More for me. Sorry, I got carried away. What were we talking about again?”

“Your behavior is highly unsuitable for a place like this,” his father uses the voice that usually has people in the courtroom cowering.

Kieran is unaffected. He makes a show of looking around. “Ah, yes. Lovely place you chose. Very…quiet. You can practically hear people suffocating under the weight of pretense.” He cups a hand around his ear. “If you listen closely, you might even hear the sticks in their asses dragging across the chairs.”

Ash starts to shake. So, so close to losing it completely.

His father loses it first. There’s more emotion in his expression than Ash has witnessed in the 35 years of his life. There might even be a vein pulsing on his forehead. Jesus, this is absolute cinema. 10/10 would recommend.

“You think you’re so funny and clever, don’t you?”

“I think I’mhilarious. And charming,” Kieran announces with pride. “Clever? Meh. But I’m honest and I give a shit. Seems to me like Ash could use people like that in his life.”

His father makes a few more attempts to reassert control, but Kieran turns every argument inside out with a jab so sharp and precise there’s barely anything left.

Ash doesn’t look at his parents. He looks at Kieran, who sits there in all his outrageous, unapologetic glory, smiling as if he owns the table. Which, to be honest, he probably does. He definitely owns Ash, that’s for sure. Ash feels lighter with every exchange, like a weight he’s carried for years is being steadily shifted onto someone else’s shoulders.

It’s funny how, despite his desperate need for control, watching Kieran assert dominance makes him want to drop to his knees in the middle of a busy restaurant.

They should probably get out of here.Soon.

Once the bill gets delivered, Kieran pushes his chair back and stands. “Well, this has beenlovely.Let’s never do it again. You ready to go, cupcake?”

Ash bites the inside of his cheek and breathes slowly through his nose. “Uh-huh.” He joins Kieran, taking his hand as they prepare to leave.

“Oh, one more thing.” Kieran reaches for the bill folder, flips the paper over and scribbles something down with a flourish. “My number. Because Ash will be blocking yours, so the next time you want to see him, you’ll arrange it with me first. Wouldn’t want you wasting his time, after all.”

Ash’s parents stare—two identical, dumbstruck expressions. Not a word in edgewise.

And with that, Kieran takes Ash by the wrist and steers him toward the exit.