Snickering caught my attention, and I pulled away. A woman tugged her giggling daughters behind her. They couldn’t be more than eleven. The woman’s cheeks were bright red, and she kept her eyes averted, hurrying her children along.
“Now we can go,” Ashton said, taking my hand again.
I stared at him and shook my head. If I hadn’t witnessed it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed this was the guy who’d been crying his eyes out an hour ago. His eyes danced, and a smile lit up his face. I was relieved I didn’t have anything decent in the cupboards to eat. Going out for dinner with me seemed to have cheered him up immensely.
Note to self. Take Ashton out more often. He was a social guy, and I couldn’t keep him holed up in the loft when he didn’t have classes. Sure, the romance felt all cute right now, but soon, he’d need some more space than my small apartment.
It took less than ten minutes for me to usher him into Papa’s Garage, as its name suggested, a restaurant that had been converted from a garage. The place had been extended to involve a dining area, a bar, and a stage for cabaret performances. I chose this restaurant because they opened late, their food was good but reasonably priced, and it had entertainment.
We were able to get seats inside but not the best ones, since most people must’ve reserved their table beforehand. The restaurant appeared rustic with a few tables for two, but several others could be shared with four or more people.
The bar was tucked away in a little corner where you didn’t have to watch the show, and the stage was directly in front of the diners. The cabaret performances were already in full swing by the time we sat and picked up the menus the waitress had placed on the table.
“What do you think?” I asked as Ashton stared around him.
He swung his eyes back to me. “Wow, I’ve never been anywhere like this before.” For a second, I held my breath. Did he want to leave?
“I can take you somewhere else if you want.”
“Is the food any good?”
“The best.”
His grin set me at ease. “Then we’ll stay. This place is unique. Hard to believe it’s always been here and I never knew.”
“It’s my favorite place to eat out. You?”
“Umm, my brother has stakes in a fine-dining restaurant on the other side of town. We go—went there often.”
Shit. The corners of his mouth drooped, and I quickly tried to shift the conversation. “You’re allowed to have one drink tonight, so choose wisely.”
“Hmm, I’m not a lightweight.” He ran his finger down the menu as he checked out the items listed. “Pretty sure I could drink you under the table.” He glanced up at me and winked. “Want to make a bet?”
“Nice try, Ash. One drink and that’s it.”
He looked ready to argue, and I sat back in my chair, arms crossed, watching him, waiting for the words to come to voice his distaste of my rigid rules when it came to him drinking. He only got one drink because he’d been good so far, not breaking any of the rules.
“Fine.” He sighed, staring into my eyes. “You’re the Daddy.”
I leaned forward, placing my hand on the table. “That’s right, and don’t forget it for a second.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ashton
“Tomatoes, onions, broth…” I checked through the shopping cart again as I ticked off the items I’d already placed into it. Shit. No broth. I had to find broth.
I wheeled the cart to my right, apologizing furiously when I nearly collided into a woman with three trays of eggs perched precariously one atop the other.
For a few frightening seconds, I thought I would’ve gotten egged. Terrible that I didn’t even think about the eggs smashing onto her pristine white shirt, but in that moment of horror, all I could think about was the fact that I had no more clean clothes at Callum’s to wear.
For the past two weeks, Callum and I had shared somewhat of a predictable schedule to afford us time to see each other. He’d asked to see my class schedule. I couldn’t lie anymore and hang out at his apartment more often. He expected me to be in class, so I left to avoid arousing suspicion.
There were the odd days when I couldn’t see him, and for the past two Wednesdays, he’d given me some excuse about not being around. I pushed the cart down the aisle, not sure what broth was. Not only had I never cooked before, but I’d never gone grocery shopping either. It had taken me a while to figure out that I needed to insert a quarter to retrieve a shopping cart, and then the supermarket was so huge, finding everything that I already had took me quite some time. Until a worker pointed out that there were labels for each aisle to make the process easier.
Where was she when I needed her?
Grocery shopping was a high level of stress, but I also found I enjoyed it. There were a million and one brands to choose from. Naturally, I had no idea which was better and would accost some unsuspecting fellow shoppers to ask their opinion.
And boy were people eager to share their opinion. One woman had even advised me that I could cheat on the whole meal-preparing thing and buy the canned tomato soup instead, but I declined. I’d chosen the soup because it seemed easy to prepare, so what would be the pride in buying the canned item?
The broth was at the end of the aisle, and just as I’d predicted, there were several brands on the shelf. I felt a thrill of excitement at picking out the food Callum would eat. He always came up to the apartment for lunch. When I didn’t have class, I was always there to greet him, but he made lunch, and we ate together. Sometimes we had sex before he prepared the meal.
Once we did it after, but given I nearly puked on him, we just kissed, fondled heavily, and avoided sex when we were full.
At night, we got all kinds of freaky.
Since I had no idea which brand to get, I randomly selected one, verified I had everything now, then joined the line at cash-out. The process was slow, but the act of doing something so domestic and simple was rather calming.
I paid for my items, then hurried out of the supermarket, checking my watch. The cab I’d taken there was still waiting. The fare would be exorbitant, but I didn’t want to take Rue for fear of him giving me a lecture about missing classes today.
It took three trips to sneak the groceries all up the stairs without attracting attention from the coffee shop. I expected Callum to bust me, but he was busy inside with his clientele. It gave me enough time to pay the driver and dash back upstairs to get started on the cooking.
In the little time I’d been with Callum, I had an idea where everything was in the kitchen. Whenever he cooked, I enjoyed watching him, talking to him, and I’d kept a careful eye on him. I put away all the groceries save for what I needed, and then I leaned against the counter and again checked out the recipe I’d found online.
Really? I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out how to boil some tomato soup and make grilled cheese.
At 2:00 p.m. on the dot, the front door opened. Callum wasn’t expecting me to be home, because technically I had a class. A surge of excitement went through me as I surveyed the kitchen once more. Everything was finished, right as scheduled. I’d followed the recipe to a T, and if my taste buds didn’t lie, the meal was great. As great as tomato soup and grilled cheese could get.
“Ash?” Callum called out, his footsteps leading from the front door.
“Surprise!”
He entered the kitchen, his face confused as if trying to figure out what I was doing there. I laughed a little because before this moment, I’d never seen myself in a kitchen, trying to make a meal either, but I’d pulled it off, and the accomplishment filled me with pride.
“What’s going on?” He glanced from me to the place setting at the table.
Damn him, his plates were all mismatched, but I made do with what he had. Maybe someday I’d get us matching sets so the next time I cooked for him, I could do the whole shebang!
“I made us lunch.” I smiled so hard my cheeks ached.
I p
ulled out one of the two chairs around the table in the kitchen. When he still made no move forward, I grabbed his arm, tugged him over to the table, and pushed him to sit.
“You made lunch?”
I laughed at the look of disbelief on his face. “Yes, I did. I mean, it’s not exactly a three-course meal, but I think I did all right for the first time.”
“This I have to see.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, and before I could move away, he snagged me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap. “Daddy Cal—”
His mouth landed on mine as he held me firmly onto his lap. I gave in to the probing of his tongue, sliding my hands about his broad shoulders. I temporarily forgot about lunch, completely focused on how good he tasted. Of coffee. And peppermint. But the really good part was the taste that was all him.
Callum started to pull back, but I leaned forward, wanting more of his kisses.
“Baby, something is burning,” he murmured against my lips.
Of course there was. I was burning for him.
I jerked away from him, jumping out of his lap as his words sank in and an acrid odor filled the room. “Oh my god, the grilled cheese sandwich!”
My dick lost priority as I ran over to the stove to inspect the sandwich.
“No, no, no.”
I grabbed the spatula and transferred the sandwich to the plate, but it was too late. The outside was burned crispier than it should’ve been. I threw the towel onto the stove in disgust. “It’s completely ruined.”
I heard the crackle of fire behind me, just as Callum surged to his feet.
“Ashton, look out!”
I spun around. Fuck. I hadn’t put out the flame under the skillet. The towel I’d thrown onto the stove had caught fire and blazed brightly. The orange flames danced, licking at the towel, consuming inch by inch of the cloth.
Rooted to the spot, I stared, snippets of memory invading the present.
“Jake! Oh my god, Jake!”
The plate fell from my hands and landed on the floor with a crash I barely heard over the roar of flames claiming the vehicle. Time became warped as the present and the past collided into catastrophic memories that still managed to haunt me.
“Ashton, are you hurt?”
Callum’s question snapped me out of the past. A shiver ran through my body, and I blinked rapidly to focus on him. Not a burning car with myself, my dad, and Jake trapped inside.
“I’m fine,” I replied, my voice weak. “The flames—it scared me.”
“I put it out.” He placed his hands on my waist. “Don’t move. There’s broken crockery all around you, and you’re barefooted.”
I glanced down at my feet and gasped at the mess I’d made. Even if Callum had been inclined to eat a sandwich with burned crust, he couldn’t do so now. The plate had splintered all around me.
Just like my life slowly was. It was stupid of me to think I could forget about my past.
The familiar feelings of inadequacy and inability to do anything right descended on me. A simple lunch and I couldn’t carry that out without creating some form of havoc.
“I need to clean up this mess,” I said, ignoring the broken crockery. Before I could move, Callum swept me off my feet and brought me over to the table. He deposited me onto his chair.
“Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll take care of everything.”
“But it’s my mess.”
“No, it was an accident. No harm done.”
He disappeared from the kitchen while I gazed at my fingers clenched together on top of the table. I said nothing when he returned and removed the pieces of glass, then swept up the splinters. He put everything away, then came back, carrying a pair of my slippers in hand.
“Put these on.” He knelt at my feet and helped me into the slippers. When he was done, he patted my knee and rose to his feet. “There, if there are any stray splinters around, you won’t step on them. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I still didn’t say anything as I stared at my slippers. I’d brought the silly pink things with hearts all over them with me a few days ago. He’d taken one look at them and shaken his head before declaring that he wasn’t surprised.
“Ash, don’t be upset.”
I clenched my fingers tighter. “I had it all planned out.”
“Accidents happen, Pretty Eyes.”
I shook my head, but the disappointment remained. “You don’t understand. It was supposed to be perfect. I went grocery shopping, and I’ve never been before. It took me forever to figure out just how to light the stove, and you didn’t have a can opener, so I had to use the knife to get the lid off the can of broth. I almost stabbed myself with the damn knife, but I didn’t. I made the tomato soup, which I think you’ll like, and the first grilled cheese sandwich I made was good, but I ate it ’cause I was hungry. Nothing should’ve gone wrong, but somehow I still manage to fuck shit up. I always fuck things up.”
Callum gripped my chin, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “I don’t believe that for one bit. If all you’ve said is true, can’t you see how much you’ve accomplished? Ash, you’re being too hard on yourself. Let’s take baby steps. Hmm?”
I frowned up at him. “Hmm, maybe it’s your fault. Your kiss distracted me.”
“That’s it.” He flicked my nose playfully. “Blame me for what happened. It’s true. Hadn’t I kissed you, that sandwich would’ve come out perfect, and we’d be enjoying this meal you went out of your way to prepare.”
My heavy sigh filled the kitchen. “I can’t blame you. I guess I could make another sandwich.” But I didn’t really want to right now. I didn’t want anything to do with fire after the memories that had resurfaced.
“Tell you what.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. It was one of my favorite things about him—the way he kissed me, just because. “You take care of the soup, and I’ll make the sandwiches.” He winked at me. “It’s the least I can do, given it’s my fault and all that.”
His lightness worked like a charm. Was this the same man who’d been so grumpy toward me when we first met?
“Hmm, it was your fault.” I rose to my feet. “Okay. Even I’m not that unlucky to have another accident so closely after the other.”
The tension slowly ebbed away as I worked beside Callum, pouring the soup into bowls while he took care of the sandwiches. The horror of almost setting the kitchen on fire and remembering the accident that claimed both the lives of my father and brother weighted heavily on me. I didn’t feel much like talking at first, but Callum filled the quiet by telling me about some interesting people he’d met at the coffee shop that morning.
By the time we sat down to eat, I was almost back to normal. Almost. My anxiety level shot up once more when he dipped his spoon into the soup for his first taste. He didn’t look worried in the least, but what if I’d fucked up the soup too?
“I’ve never cooked before!” I blurted out.
He paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth, amusement making his eyes twinkle. “I think I figured that out awhile now, Pretty Eyes.”
“I should’ve probably just ordered something to be delivered,” I added as the spoon got closer to his lips. “It’s not too late to order something.”
“Ashton, stop worrying.” His lips parted, and the spoon slid between them. He swallowed but didn’t stop there. The spoon dipped right back into the soup and back to his mouth. He eventually stopped. “Aren’t you eating? It’s really good.”
Hope flickered inside me. “It is?”
“Yup. In fact, as soon as I finish this, I’m going to help myself to another serving.”
I took up my spoon and had a taste. He was right. It wasn’t that bad. “It’s okay,” I said.
“It’s better than okay.” He put his spoon down and took my free hand. “What will I have to do for you to be more confident about yourself?”
I tugged my hand away from him and chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with my confidence. You tell me I’m cocky
all the time.”
“And you are,” he said. “You’re cocky with your looks, and who can blame you? You’re such a beautiful boy, and I want you to believe that every other part of you is just as beautiful.”
Would he still think that if he knew what I’d done? All the lies I’d told him. All the classes I no longer attended. Where I truly went when he thought I was at my classes. How plastered I was on days I couldn’t see him so he didn’t know what I was up to the night before.
I swallowed hard, wanting to confess my lies, but what if I lost him with the truth?
“You make me feel beautiful,” I said instead, smiling at him. “In every way. You make me feel like I can do things such as shopping, lighting stoves, and cooking. Although that last part is debatable.”
“Hmm, guess what? From now on, whenever you’re here, you pick a recipe and we’ll get dinner on the table together. How does that sound?”
I nodded, surprised at how pleased I was with his plan. Would it be weird if I told him how much I’d enjoyed preparing lunch today? Making something edible out of a bunch of ingredients that didn’t make sense on their own.
I was already thinking about one recipe our personal chef made at home that I could try. I’d never thought to try it on my own, but with Callum to supervise me and ensure I didn’t burn the place down, it sounded…fun…satisfying.
“I’d like that,” I replied. “I’ll start working on a recipe right after lunch.”
He chuckled and got to his feet. He’d finished his soup, and true to his word, he went over to the pot to help himself to more. “Your assignments first. Have you completed them all? Don’t need to go to the library?”
Shit. “Uh, I’ve already done them.”
“Want me to take a look before you hand them in?” he asked, returning to the table.
“I already handed them in.”
The pride in Callum’s eyes as he smiled at me almost broke me down to confess the truth, but I didn’t want that look to be replaced by disappointment.
“You’re being a good boy, aren’t you?” Callum said. “That makes me so proud of you, Ashton. I knew you could do it.”
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