“It doesn’t.” I stepped closer and reached for the cowboy hat, looking to Asher for permission before grabbing it. He gave me a slight nod, and I picked it up. “My parents are alive, you know. But they disowned me when I came out. It fucked me up for a long time, but then I just decided to pretend that they were dead. Because if they were dead, then that meant that they couldn’t hurt me anymore.”
“Did it work?” Asher gently took the hat from me and stuck it on my head.
“At first, yeah. It helped. But then that hurt was still there. Ignoring the wound didn’t make it go away. I don’t pretendthey’re dead anymore, but I did give myself permission to mourn losing them. And that’s what helped me in the long run.”
“Is this therapy session free, doctor cowboy?” Asher smirked and flicked the brim of the hat, knocking it slightly off kilter.
“I’m not a doctor or a cowboy.” Taking the hat off, I set it aside again. “I’m just a guy who knows what loss feels like and how it can fuck with you.”
Asher nodded and let out a breath. His shoulders sagged, and I wanted to pull him in close to me and hug him. And then I remembered that I had no reason to hold back anymore.
“Come here.” I opened my arms, and Asher stepped into them, burying his head against my shoulder. He took a deep breath, and it rushed out of him like a deflating balloon.
He melted against me, wound his arms around my waist, and I wrapped mine around him, rubbing a hand up and down his back.
“I’m sorry I took off the other day. I should have stayed and explained.”
“I shouldn’t have been yammering on about some other guy right after you and Jax gave me the best night of my life.”
“Yeah, probably not. But I could’ve explained.” I was glad Asher wasn’t looking at me right then because it made it easier to be vulnerable if he wasn’t. “For as long as I could remember, I’ve always felt more for people than they feel for me. It’s gotten me hurt more times than I care to count.”
“That’s why you have those rules.” Asher groaned. “I always wondered. I should have asked. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t explain.”
“Sounds like we’re both sorry. But for the record, Blue…” Asher pulled back and looked me in the eyes. “I don’t think you feel more for me than I do for you. I think… I think we’re pretty even.”
Asher’s tentative confession unwrapped a little glimmer of hope deep in my chest. It almost felt too good to be true, that both Jax and Asher could have feelings for me. The old me might have run from it, but I was tired of my rules. Tired of limiting what I could have, from who, and when. I wanted to drop my guard for them and let them in.
“Do you need help with all this stuff?”
He let out a weak laugh. “I swore I could manage it on my own, but the piles kept falling over. And then I was tripping on things and trying to decide how best to load everything into my car and how many trips it would take.”
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a fuck yes, please help me.”
Asher pulled away, but before I let him go completely, I brushed a kiss against his cheek. Then I put the hat on his head.
“You’d make a cute cowboy.”
“So would you, Blue.” Asher frowned. “What’s your real name?”
“Ryan. My real first name is Ryan. Ryan Michael Gallagher-Smith.”
Asher pondered this information for half a second before nodding. “I like Blue better,” he said, hefting a couple of bags up off the floor. “I’d like to make it in one trip, but there’s no way.”
“Well, good thing you have help.” I grabbed a couple more bags and between the two of us, we managed to stuff the back of Asher’s car full. I rode with him to Lukas’s house, and we parked around back so we could take everything directly in through the back door and into the basement where the studio was.
After we stacked everything in the green room, Asher looked at the piles of stuff and let out a sigh. “I don’t suppose you wanted to help me unpack this. Lukas said we could put it all in the closet down here. I figured I’d put the costumes and stuff inhere, and take the other stuff to the living room set-up and fill out some of the shelves.”
The downstairs at Lukas’s house had a green room that doubled as a set sometimes. A bathroom, two bedrooms, and a living room space. It was all furnished and it was nice and homey if you ignored the tripods and lighting set-ups.
We got to work, silently unpacking the bags of Leo’s stuff.
“He had more costumes than a Spirit Halloween,” I said as I hung a french maid costume from a hanger.
“I asked him about them once. I think it was when he brought home a hard hat and a tool belt. I wanted to know what the deal was with all the costumes. I knew he filmed porn; it wasn’t a secret. That wasn’t why he kept me separate from everyone. He just didn’t want me to think it was my only option or to be taken advantage of. I think he was afraid that I’d turn out just like him, but really that’s all I wanted. He was so good to me. Patient. Kind. He made all kinds of sacrifices for me. But he said the costumes made it more fun. That they let him feel like he really was someone else for a little while.”
