by HJ Welch
Elion had recently qualified as a Licensed Practical Nurse and had taken a position at one of the city’s ERs. The stress of that on top of wedding planning meant he had apparently been bursting into tears regularly over the past few weeks.
He was a charming guy. Trent was very happy for him and his buddy Blake. But damn if they weren’t making this huge fucking deal over Trent picking a girl to come to their big day with.
They kept saying that Trent could bring anyone. He never had a shortage of ladies in his life, after all. But Trent couldn’t help but feel like this wasn’t a ‘bring any old girl’ type of situation.
Blake had met Elion almost as soon as the band had broken up. Joey had met his guy Gabe a few months after that, and they’d gotten married last fall in a beautiful ceremony that Trent actually remembered most of, despite the free-flowing tequila. Then Raiden had surprised everyone last year by getting together with his beast of a bodyguard. Although Trent maintained he had felt there was something brewing between them when they’d met in Philadelphia.
However, now it meant the pressure was on him. Why did happy couples always want to see everyone else settled down as well? All that shit he’d been feeling in Barry’s office came crawling back, causing his throat to get tight. Trent knew his friends meant well, but their incessant pestering for him to find The One was just making him feel even crappier for all the incredible women he had let go over the years. Because when it came to commitment, apparently TJ Charles was a big fucking chicken.
How did you know when you met the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? Trent had fallen for so many girls over the years. Some he even thought he’d been in love with. But he’d never felt that ‘struck by lightning’ moment, where his heart ached so much it was physically painful to be apart from that special someone. Wasn’t that how love was supposed to feel?
This plus one situation with the wedding felt like the guys were trying to get him to commit, really commit. Like they’d all ganged up on him and decided he needed to find his soulmate, now, or he would never be happy. What if he wasn’t ready yet? He could bring a girl to the next wedding. Maybe she really would be The One.
He certainly wasn’t going to produce a girl in time for the flight out on Friday. Let alone someone truly special.
Fuck it, they’d just have to get over themselves.
Sorry, dudes, he typed out. Looks like I’ll be going stag again. Invite some hot girls for me to meet. Maybe I’ll get a date by the end of the night? He added a winking and kissing emoji, hoping he wouldn’t upset them that much. But he just wanted to enjoy one of his best friends’ special day. Trent felt like he’d had enough attention on him for now.
The little dots bounced to show that Blake was writing something. Sure enough, a new message popped up within thirty seconds.
Hey man, no worries. It’s gonna be a blast. Can’t wait to see you.
Definitely! Joey piped up, making Trent smile. He’d always had a soft spot for the youngest and undeniably sweetest member of the band.
See you soon, Trent typed back. He’d missed his friends a lot. No one understood their crazy lives quite like each other.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket thinking about how he’d have to cancel the flights to Ohio he’d had booked via LA and get new ones sorted from Jackson. But at that moment, the gaggle of teenage boys left the gift shop. Trent knew he needed to go face his dad right now before he lost his nerve. He could rearrange the flights later.
Sighing, he picked up his board, damp with melted snow, and trudged over to the gift shop. He thought for the nth time how he wouldn’t mind so much that his dad devoted all his energy into this place if the resort actually gave him decent things to sell. But this stuff was all so tacky.
It was a good thing at the moment, though, he realized as he entered. Because an excitable Merlin saw him come in and immediately went berserk. He started barking, his tail going crazy and sweeping off whatever was on the bottom shelves along the aisle between him and Trent as he charged over to greet him. Trent gasped, throwing his hands up to try and calm the little fella before he wrecked everything.
“Hey, hey,” he said, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him away from the glass ashtrays. At least he’d only knocked down some wooden, poorly painted boomerangs. This time. Trent risked glancing up and making eye contact with his dad, who was scowling at him from behind the counter. “Sorry.”
His dad gave a shrug with one shoulder. “He’s better when you’re not here.”
Trent gritted his teeth and tried to keep his cool. It hadn’t always been like this. He knew his dad loved him. He’d always been supportive and happy for Trent, even if he didn’t understand his chosen careers.
“Dad, can we talk?” Trent asked, rising to his feet. Merlin dutifully followed as he approached the counter, thankfully going behind it to Trent’s dad where he couldn’t cause much mayhem.
Again, Trenton Sr. gave half a shrug, his attention on his laptop. “We’re already talking.”
Trent sighed and propped up his board against the counter, wincing when he realized the snow was already dripping onto the wooden floor. It was only water, but he didn’t want to give his dad any reason to kick him out of the store before they’d at least tried to clear some of the air.
Trent decided to keep things plain and simple. “I know I didn’t come back here when I should have,” he said.
He couldn’t bring himself to look his dad in the eye, so he picked up a keyring from the display on the countertop and ran his thumb over the design. It was a cactus. What the hell did a cactus have to do with a ski resort in Wyoming?
“No, you didn’t,” his dad agreed.
Trent winced, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to look up. “I just…I see her everywhere here.” It was one of the reasons he liked his staff cabin. He’d never been in there before, so it had zero association with his mom.
His mom, who had been skiing like she always had, when one day something went drastically wrong. She’d lost control of her skis and slammed into a tree. She’d died instantly.
Not that Trent had known that at the time. It had taken him almost seventy-two hours to hear the news. He’d been too busy partying in Prague to notice his phone had died. By the time he’d recharged it, his dad had been coping with the death of his wife, Trent’s mom, for close to three days. Alone.
“It’s a good thing you see her here,” his dad said stiffly. He was scrolling on the mousepad, but his eyes were fixed when Trent risked glancing up. He doubted he was looking at anything on the screen. “This was her home. She loved it.”
“I miss her,” Trent said softly around the lump in his throat. They’d never been the closest of families. He’d always been far too different from his parents for that. But he had loved them regardless. He still loved his dad, even if he didn’t exactly like him right at that moment.
His dad harrumphed as if to challenge the idea that Trent missed his mom. Trent swallowed down his hurt. Fuck, he’d been a jackass. This wound had been festering for too long. He’d only come back to Wyoming long enough for the funeral. He should have made much more of an effort.
But it was always so much easier to get drunk, throw himself into work, and fall into bed with a girl. Literally anything to distract him from his hurt. Except his work had been suffering from how much he’d been drinking, and no girl ever stuck around long enough to build anything meaningful like a relationship.
“I miss Lancelot, too,” he mumbled.
His dad hadn’t called when their old dog had passed. Trent hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye before he’d been put to sleep. Trent knew it was his dad’s way of protecting himself after Trent hadn’t been there when his mom had died, but, fuck. He would have come. He would have supported his dad then. He would have liked to tell that old mutt he was a good boy one last time.
Trent squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t cried over his mom or his dog. Not once. What the f
uck was wrong with him? Was he even human? What kind of dickhead didn’t grieve for his family?
“The puppy doesn’t replace Lancelot,” his dad grumbled.
Trent smacked the glass counter, making his dad jump. Finally, they looked at one another. Trent curled his hand into a fist and took a breath. He wasn’t going to lose his temper. He wasn’t that guy.
“Merlin isn’t supposed to replace anyone,” Trent said, his voice heavy as he deflated. “I just thought he’d be a good friend for you. That…that he’d be better at looking after you than I’ve been.”
That sounded like he was letting himself off the hook, but that really wasn’t it. He wasn’t ever going to have a life at the Grand. The best he could do would be to repair things with his dad to call every week or two, like they used to. Merlin could be with his dad every damn day. Trent didn’t want him to be lonely. Sure, his dad had friends at the resort and in the nearby towns. But Merlin could be with him all the time. He’d never judge him.
“Look, Trent,” his dad said. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. They had a different smudge on them today. “I appreciate what you’re doing. But I don’t know what you’re expecting. Maybe you should just go back to California.”
The words hit Trent like a sucker punch. “No,” he said carefully. “I want to try and make things right.” Besides, Barry wouldn’t let him come back so soon. Trent had to stick it out in the mountains for as long as his manager said.
Trent’s dad clicked his fingers and managed to get Merlin’s attention long enough to attach his leash. “Some things,” he said slowly, “you just can’t fix. Too much damage has been done. You can stay as long as you like. Just…bear that in mind.”
Trent watched silently as his dad placed a ‘Back in ten minutes’ sign on the counter, then led Merlin and his wagging tail out the door. Trent sagged against the counter, his stomach rolling.
Goddamn it. He would give anything to change what had happened. He wished his mom hadn’t gone on the slopes that day. He wished he had charged his phone. He wished he’d swallowed his own shit and just come back to be with his dad two years ago, no matter how difficult that was.
But he couldn’t alter any of that. All he could do was keep trying and hope that eventually, he and his dad might have some sort of breakthrough.
In the meantime, he was going to go back to his cabin, change his clothes, then hope that Ashby really did want to hang out tonight. Because if ever Trent needed a stiff drink and a friendly face, it was right then.
10
Ashby
When Ashby plugged his phone in to charge back in his room, he had a momentary ice-cold wash of panic that he hadn’t called Gordon yet today. Then he remembered he no longer had to do that.
He sat down on the bed and took a few long breaths. He knew he hadn’t been in love with Gordon for almost a year now. But undoing the damage of his controlling behavior, which had sunk its claws into Ashby in so many different ways, was going to take longer than overcoming any heartbreak.
It took a long, hot shower to get rid of the chill which the prospect of talking to Gordon had instilled in him. He needed to shake that off and enjoy his damn holiday like he was supposed to. That included meeting his new friend Trent for dinner and drinks.
Feeling like Gordon had crawled under his skin again meant Ashby experienced several twinges of guilt before he was finally able to truly convince himself he was single now and could do whatever the hell he liked. Not that this was even a date. But Gordon wouldn’t have liked Ashby hanging out with another guy one-on-one, no matter the circumstances.
But he could do what he wanted now. He just needed to be brave. Ashby knew there wasn’t enough that scared him in his life.
When you were born privileged, it was easy to numb yourself to the world. There were never any real consequences for failure. In Singapore, he’d been in a bubble of other ex-pat Brits, all very well off and sheltered from the Asian culture around them. Like glorified tourists with maids and nannies and cooks, like that was real life.
It took Ashby years to realize what a disadvantage that gave him. The most shocking development in his life had been to discover he was gay, a fact he was sure of by the tender age of thirteen.
But even that wasn’t the great catastrophe he knew so many other people faced in their lives. His parents hardly blinked an eyelid, telling him they loved him no matter what, and honestly, had always sort of known. Therefore, his fear had developed very late when he’d stepped out from his sheltered life into the real world and finally been subjected to the true prejudice of someone who was so effeminate and obviously queer.
It was only as he hit his twenties, a few years ago, did he learn how cruel people could be. So he did the only logical thing he could think of.
He stayed out of the ‘real’ world as much as he possibly could.
Money could get you all kinds of magical places. His stunning good looks, although hardly rugged or masculine, still opened all manner of doors. Ashby knew he was a coward. That was why he stayed on the peripheral, where things were shiny and simple. As much as possible, he stayed within his comfort zone.
But deep down, he knew that as much as there was a part of him which craved that safety, there was also a darker side of him that pushed him up the side of that damn mountain that morning.
Because try as he might, Ashby could never seem to stay away from the bad boys.
He thought maybe he had broken that cycle with Gordon. Ashby never wanted to be with anyone like that again for as long as he lived. But Trent had a reputation. Only last week he had gotten in trouble for punching a photographer and from what Ashby had seen in person, Trent definitely had some issues rolling around. But as much as he cautioned himself, he couldn’t help but be tentatively happy as he picked an outfit to wear down to the bar. Because Trent was also sweet. And kind.
Ashby looked at the clothes he had hanging up in his little temporary wardrobe. He touched one of the prettier tops he’d brought. As much as he felt like getting a bit dressed up to meet Trent, he didn’t want to scare him off. Besides, it was difficult to gauge how people here would react.
So he played it safe with a super comfy, huge cream cable knit jumper – or sweater as the Yanks called it. He smiled, enjoying adapting to the different lingo again after not being in the country for a few years. He paired the jumper with a pair of black leggings and black fluffy boots – the same ones he’d worn to dash out to the pool the night before. He chuckled as he put them on. That sight obviously hadn’t sent Trent running, so maybe Ashby could risk being a little flamboyant.
He decided to go for a bit of makeup. Nothing too extreme. But foundation and concealer, a hint of contorting and a touch of pencil to fill in his brows. The most outrageous thing he put on was a slick of pale pink gloss, just enough to give his lips some shine. It wasn’t like he was going to be kissing anyone tonight, so he could indulge in a little glamor.
His hair ruffled and aftershave applied, Ashby sauntered out the door leaving everything behind. He didn’t need his phone because he was taking a break from everything. It felt wonderful. He could charge all his food and drinks to the room, so all he needed was his key, which he slid into the side of his boot once the door was locked. He also brought his lip gloss with him, which he dropped down into the other boot. He felt remarkably free as he sashayed down the corridor toward the lobby.
As he was making his way to the restaurant, he spied a familiar furry face. “Oh!” he cried as he approached Trent’s puppy for the second time. Looking up, he quickly confirmed the person holding the leash was not Trent. But there was enough familial resemblance for Ashby to guess this was Trent’s dad that he’d mentioned was working here. “Hello,” he said as he got closer to the older man. He held out his hand. “You must be Mr. Charles. I met Trent and your lovely puppy here yesterday.”
The old man narrowed his eyes. Ashby got the sudden feeling that maybe he’d put his foot in it. “You know Trent?�
� Mr. Charles asked. His eyes raked over Ashby and Ashby got that familiar prickling anxiety when he wondered how much he was being judged. He was very glad he hadn’t gone for a more outlandish outfit, but he did try and lick the gloss off his lips as subtly as he could.
“Yes,” he said brightly. “I’m by myself on holiday and he’s taken me under his wing, somewhat.”
For a second Mr. Charles continued to stare. Then his face lit up with a tentative smile that Ashby also recognized from Trent’s face. “That’s nice,” he said quietly, nodding to himself. “I’m glad he’s being good to you.”
Ashby hadn’t been expecting that, but it felt reassuring. Like Trent’s dad approved of him or something. “He’s been very kind,” he assured him. “He taught me how to snowboard in, like, an afternoon. Which shows he has the patience of a saint.” Ashby chuckled, then looked down as the puppy scratched at his leg. “Do you mind if I pet him?” he asked. He’d learned his lesson the day before about making assumptions with other people’s dogs.
“Sure,” Mr. Charles said. “It looks like he likes you.” The puppy had flopped onto his back, demanding belly rubs.
Ashby crouched down and obliged. “Oh, that’s because he’s a good boy, aren’t you? Yes, you are. What’s his name?”
“Merlin.” Ashby looked up. Mr. Charles sounded sad for some reason.
“That’s a great name,” he told Mr. Charles.
“Very English,” Mr. Charles commented with a rueful laugh.
Ashby tilted his head and smiled as he continued to rub the pup’s fat belly. “It is indeed,” he said warmly. Reluctantly, he stood back up. It was getting close to six o’clock. “I’m actually going to meet Trent now. You’d be more than welcome to join us, if you’d like?”
But Mr. Charles got that sad look on his face again. “That’s very kind of you,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose where they’d slipped a little. “But we’ll let you boys have fun. Maybe…you could tell him I said to have a nice night, though?”