Page 158 of Should Our Stars Collide

Ashton sniffs, muscles bulging as he stands up tall before wrapping an arm around Jess. “Let’s go.”

“A second.” Jess drops into a crouch next to Kieran, talking only loud enough for his ears. “I don’t know what the problem is, but Ido know one thing. When someone makes you look likethat—” She points at his no doubt pathetically dejected face. “It’s either because they’re a major red flag who doesn’t deserve you giving them the time of day, or they’re the love of your life. In which case, you need to get your shit together and fight for them.”

A sharp sensation pierces his organs, his eyes filling up again. “What if they’re both? The love of my lifeanda red flag?”

“Then you’re screwed.” She chuckles. “But you know…you are kind of a red flag too. This might just work out perfectly.”

How rude. And accurate.

“Thanks, Jess.”

She winks before punching his arm. “Anytime, Jerkface.”

She joins her boyfriend, and Kieran watches them stroll down the beach, arms around each other. Laughing. Happy.

He knows what that feels like.

And he wants it back.

Theremustbe a way. He and Ash are perfect for each other, two broken pieces forming a whole, scars and all.

He mentally goes through what he remembers from the videos, looking for clues he might’ve missed. He goes through the countless conversations with Ash too.

He can’t fathom why both of those assholes completely forgot to mention this huge-ass plothole in their lovestory—a little warning would’ve been nice—but he has to believe it was for a reason. To not mess up timelines or whatever. Which would mean his future self had gone through the same shit Kieran’s going through now and made it. Somehow, he had won Ash over. Somehow?—

“You won me over. By being yourself.”

That was Ash’s stupid answer when Kieran asked how this—them—happened. This whole time he thought Ash was sassing him.

He was wrong.

Filled with renewed determination, Kieran gets up, brushing sand off his hands and butt.

Okay, then. Time to be himself. Whatever that means.

37

Turns out Kieran’s true self is a stalker. And not a very good one, at that.

He’s been pacing in front of the main entrance of Ash’s building (Zeke was all too eager to share the address) for an hour before it dawns on him that Ash isn’t going to magically stroll through the lobby like a character from a movie. No, he’ll drive to the basement to park his car, then take the lift. Which means zero chance of an ambush. Fucking great.

This is why romantic movies are stupid. Nothing ever works out the same way in real life!

On to Plan B.

On Friday, after consulting Google on Ash’s working hours, Kieran pulls up in front of the small, two-story building where Ash rents his therapy cave. He arrives an hour in advance just in case nobody has booked the last appointment and Ash ends up going home early.

He doesn’t.

The wait is agony. Kieran shifts, yawns, and reshuffles hisColdplayplaylist. At one point his head lolls forward and he jerks awake with a snort, panic flashing through him that he somehow missed Ash leaving. But then the bastard strolls out, looking like he stepped out of a magazine—rolled sleeves, loosened collar, the late sun hitting his hair just right. What an arrogant, pompous prick. He doesn’t deserveto be that hot.

Kieran tails him at a cautious distance, unsurprised when Ash doesn’t take the exit that would lead him home. Of course not. It’s Friday night, he’s definitely headed to a bar. Or a pub. Maybe somewhere they’ve bumped into each other before.

When Ash pulls into a parking lot glowing with neon signs and rainbow flags, Kieran has to blink twice.

“A freaking gay bar?”

This…complicates the situation. He was planning on marching in there, sliding into the empty seat near Ash with a smug, “Is this seat taken?” before giving him a taste of his own medicine, aka flirting shamelessly.