Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
But he’d get there one day, he thought.
And he felt far more capable now than he ever had before.
Though all he felt right now, was mortified as Vic waved Ms. Vernon off with an affable grin and crossed the office with his lazy swagger to drop a folded stack of newsprint on Ash’s desk. Ash frowned, unfolding the tabloid—only to flush fire-hot all the way down to his collarbones as he saw the headline splashed in giant letters.
Harrington Heir Has Harrowing Night – But Who’s His Handsome Hottie?
The photo taking up the entire front page of the gossip rag showed an intersection at night, the Mercedes, street lights shining down on its crumpled front end and smoke rising through the beams of golden illumination.
And Brand, on his knees, pulling Ash from the car with an expression of pure, raw terror and grief and hope on his face, transforming that handsome, stony visage into a minefield of chaotic emotions.
“Oh, God,” Ash groaned, covering his mouth with both hands. Oh fuck, that wasn’t good.
So why was he all lit up inside, fizzing like a corked bottle of champagne?
“Something you neglected to tell me?” Vic needled. “When were you going to call and tell your best friend you’d been in a near-fatal accident?”
“It wasn’t that bad!” Ash protested. “I just got tossed around a little. The bruises are fading already.”
“And you’re just like your old man.” Vic snorted, flinging himself with devil-may-care grace down into the chair Brand usually occupied. “You’d never have told me if not for that tabloid sheet.”
Ash winced. “I’ve worried people enough, don’t you think?”
“Seem to worry Brand quite a bit,” Vic said pointedly.
Cringing, Ash ducked his head. Oh fuck, if he could tell anyone he could tell Vic, but he didn’t even know what there was to tell and—
“Oh my fucking bloody God, Ash,” Vic said, sucking in a breath, staring at him. “You’re fucking him.”
Ash’s head whipped up. “What? No! I mean yes, but no, but—how did you know?!”
“It’s all over your face, you fucking lovelorn sod! And he’s no better, moping over you all over the front page news!” Vic let out a half-incredulous, half-horrified laugh. “Bloody hell, I wasn’t serious about him being your type!”
“I didn’t think he was either!” Ash flung back, then shrugged uncomfortably, looking away. Fuck, his head was going to explode, so much blood was rushing to his face. “And then things just…happened.”
“You do know how to get into some trouble.” Vic laughed again, then shook his head. “So it’s just…sex? Or are you all lovey-dovey, or…?”
“Or. Or is good.” Or was easier than trying to explain…any of this. Or the chaotic, conflicted feelings he had around Brand. “I…look, it’s new and complicated and I don’t get it myself. It’s sex, but it’s something else.”
“I’ll not pry. I’ve already heard enough about your sex life to tide me over for a lifetime,” Vic retorted dryly. “Bit long in the tooth, isn’t he?”
“He’s not old,” Ash shot back fiercely. “He’s just…Brand.”
Vic whistled, holding both hands up. “Sally withdrawn. I’m not going to war with you over your valet.”
“Nngh.” Ash fidgeted. “It’s not weird?”
“Oh it’s plenty bloody weird, but if it makes you happy, who cares?” Vic arched a pointed brow. “Does it make you happy?”
“I think so.” Biting at the inside of his lip, Ash leaned forward, folding his arms on the edge of the desk. “Everything’s just too much lately. With Dad, with figuring out how to run a company, with my mother suddenly being back in the country…everything’s just up in the air.” He shrugged. “Brand…nails things down. And makes all the noise quiet. It’s just not so hard to cope with things when he’s around. I don’t feel like I’m in freefall anymore. It’s like he caught me right before I hit the ground.”
“That’s not such a bad way to feel around someone then, innit?” Vic said with unaccustomed gentleness. “How are things with your Da, then?”
“I…” Ash stared down at his folded arms, throat tight. “Not good. He’s out of hospice but it’s just…relocation. He’s weak and not getting any better, and there’s nothing to be done for it.”
He was startled by Vic’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. They’d been friends since a food fight in the cafeteria at their boarding school had pitted them against a group of older boys at the tender age of ten, but they’d always been the kind of friends who showed affection through sarcasm and shoving. Yet Vic was reaching out to him, offering that warmth, that solidarity…and it nearly broke him.
Especially when Vic murmured, “Hey. You’re gonna make it through this. I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but you will.”
Ash tried to smile, but it came out watery, choked. “Thanks, Vic. I…I just…thanks.”
Anything Vic might have said was cut off as the door opened, and Brand quietly let himself in—only to pause, arching a brow as he saw Vic in his chair.