But even as he spoke, Drew recalled those unguarded moments when he’d seen Ash in a different light. The time he’d bolted from the table at the restaurant, wild-eyed and sweating. And today, when Drew had held Ash, trembling in his arms. The ugly past Ash tried so hard to silence and bury under an arrogant, uncaring facade was too strong and ran too deep to hide forever. Drew’s conscience pricked at him, as if to chide him for his own mean-spiritedness.
He wished this conversation had never happened and hoped it had come to an end, but he should’ve known better. Only once before could he remember seeing his grandmother so angry, when at the trial for his parents’ case against the trucking company, the defense attorney had alluded that maybe his father had been drinking himself. It was a sight to remember, but she’d gathered her shattered emotions and instead, at trial, made an impassioned victims’ speech to the judge and jury that left everyone in the court in tears.
Now, here in her kitchen, was the second time. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Drew. I’m ashamed for you and surprised. You are basing your beliefs on what others have told you.”
Knowing it wasn’t possible for him to tell his grandmother of Ash’s sexual escapades, he still stuck to his opinion of the man. “Look, I know you have a soft spot for him, and I like him well enough, but he’s a loner, Nana. Yes, he’s charming and handsome, but he isn’t someone you can get through to.” Even as he spoke the words, sadness filled his heart. He’d thought Ash could, somehow, meld into his family dynamic as another friend. Sure, the strange sexual attraction he’d felt around him was disconcerting, but he could’ve dealt with it until he started dating again.
”Believe me, no one likes to be alone. That boy needs people around him. Trust me, I know. He is crying out for help, and I’m afraid if one of us doesn’t take him in hand, something terrible might happen to him.” The worry in her eyes unnerved him, as she was never one for histrionics. Rachel must have finally caught the ball as her shrieking and Mike and Jordan’s teasing from outside had stopped.
“Did he talk to you?” For Ash to confide in his grandmother would be nothing less than shocking.
“No, not much. He locked himself up as tight as a clam and refused to say a word. But I see beneath the smile that never reaches his eyes.” With a fierceness he didn’t know she possessed, Nana grabbed his arm. “I’m worried after our talk he might do something bad to himself. You think I’m too old that I don’t understand the ways of the world. I know he’s a homosexual, gay. Why should that matter to me? But something’s not right with him. He was very depressed. Promise me after dinner you’ll go check on him. For me?”
Although there was nothing less he’d rather do than play babysitter to Asher Davis, he agreed, because he’d do anything for his grandmother. All throughout dinner, he allowed everyone to think his silence was still the result of his surprise over Rachel and Mike’s relationship. The pleasant dinnertime chatter washed over him, and he made sure to nod at all the right times to keep them from thinking he wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying.
In truth, he could only think about Ash.
Chapter Ten
It was the usual bitch of traffic up the F.D.R. Drive to Ash’s apartment on the Upper East Side, but it gave Drew time to think. He’d already made peace with his sister and Mike and let them know he was happy for them. Someone ought to be happy in his family, and since his life was nothing more than work and coming home to collapse in front of a ball game on TV, he wished Rachel the happiness she deserved.
With the radio playing classic rock, and no end to the headlights in front of him in the foreseeable future, he allowed his mind to drift to Ash. It was obvious that whatever Ash and his grandmother had spoken about affected him in a way Drew had never seen before. From the brief time they’d spent together, Drew had learned that sharing emotions and personal entanglements wasn’t part of Ash’s makeup. Drew remembered that Peter, who was supposed to be Ash’s best friend, knew only slightly more about the man than Drew did after a mere three months.
Finally he got off at the exit nearest to Seventy-Second Street and made the turn up Park Avenue. Ash’s apartment was located on Eighty-Sixth Street and Park Avenue, and thankfully there was a parking garage down the street. He told the valet he’d be several hours and handed him the keys in exchange for his ticket. It came as a shock that Ash lived in one of the premier addresses in the city. How the hell did he afford a place like this? These old, prewar apartments ran in the millions of dollars.
An elaborately uniformed doorman greeted him at the front of the apartment building, and Drew entered the beautiful formal lobby. There was a vast expanse of inlaid marble both on the floor and in the high soaring columns. Various sofas and delicate gilt chairs were grouped around an indoor arrangement of plants and flowers. A magnificent crystal chandelier hung over the concierge desk, with smaller, yet still elegant lighting fixtures leading down the hallway to where Drew presumed the elevators were located. His entire apartment could fit into this lobby.
While he and Rachel had received payment from his parents’ life insurance policies as well as a large, multimillion-dollar settlement from the trucking company, Drew had invested most of his capital and lived frugally. He didn’t need a lot and preferred to spend his money on supporting his favorite charities. This type of luxury was beyond his comprehension, yet somehow, it didn’t surprise him to find Ash living here. The man was an enigma and had been since the day they’d met. The fact that he’d been a scholarship student and now lived in a multimillion-dollar neighborhood only added to his mystique.
Drew approached the concierge desk—a beautiful slab of granite surrounded by gleaming mahogany. The young man, in a dark uniform with more discreet gold braiding than the doorman, looked up with a practiced smile. “Good evening, sir. How may I help you?”
Funny, though he might be a successful doctor, he felt underdressed and woefully out of place. “Uh, I’m here to see a Mr. Davis?” Somehow he hoped he had the wrong address, and he’d find out Ash really lived in a small, cramped apartment like himself.
“Yes, sir. Whom may I say is calling?” The young man had the house phone in his hand, an expectant look on his face.
“Um. Tell him it’s Drew.”
Although it was late, after eleven o’clock, people still came and went with regularity through the gilded front doors. The men and women passing by him dressed for the evening in clothing that screamed luxury. Their jewelry winked glints of diamonds and who knew what other treasures. Drew didn’t know much about high fashion, but living with Jackie for the short time they were married had opened his eyes to how expensive a woman’s wardrobe was to put together. With a rueful look, he glanced down at his sneakers, faded jeans, and T-shirt. Perhaps he went too far on the other extreme, but he valued comfort over trend. Maybe Ash dressed so formally to keep up the image he felt he needed to project living here. He’d never seen the man in anything other than a long-sleeve button-down shirt and dress pants, never jeans.
His fashion contemplation was cut short by the young man at the desk. “You can go up, sir. The elevators are down the hallway to your left. Mr. Davis is in apartment 19C.”
After thanking the man, Drew followed his reflection along the mirrored walls of the hallway. What stared back at him was somewhat disconcerting. He laughed to himself as two women sidled away from him when he stepped inside the elevator, choosing instead to stand by the elevator operator. He wanted to take out his business card and say,
See, look. I’m really a doctor. Don’t worry.
They reached the nineteenth floor without incident, and after thanking the young man operating the elevator, he exited onto a hushed hallway. The walls were papered in ivory, and the floors were a dark high-gloss wood. Each door had a lighted button next to it, and the apartment letters were in gold on the door itself.
Feeling somewhat nervous, he pushed the button and heard the soft chime ring within the apartment. After a moment, the door swung open, Ash’s unsmiling face greeting him. The apartment loomed as a dark void behind him.
“Uh, hey, Ash. Sorry if I woke you—”
“You didn’t.”
The heated intensity in Ash’s crystal-like eyes unnerved Drew. He so did not want to do this, but he’d promised his grandmother, and he’d never broken a promise to her, so…
“Can I come in? It won’t take long. I promise.”
Without speaking, Ash stepped back and opened the door wide. Drew entered the darkened apartment and gaped. Ash had lit candles, placing them on various tables through the apartment, but that didn’t hide the grandeur of the overall space. The entranceway was wide, with hallways that branched off to other unknown parts of the apartment. Directly in front of him, a large picture window showcased the glittering lights of the city at night. The living room, from what he could make out in the dim candlelight, was large and airy, with an ornate mantel over a fireplace.
“Christ, Ash, this place is amazing.” He glanced over at Ash, who hadn’t said a single word.
“It was Mr. Frank’s. He left it to me in his will.”
That made sense. Jacob Frank had been an extremely wealthy man. He must’ve lived here until his death. For some reason no one had been able to figure out, Frank had taken Ash in and groomed him as his successor. Somewhere along the way, the two of them had grown close, close enough for Jacob Frank, childless and with no other family, to leave Ash everything when he died.
“That was very kind of him. I heard from Peter he was an amazing man.”
Moving across the entranceway, Ash led him into the living room and waved a careless hand at the sofa. Drew spotted a half-empty bottle of vodka and an ice bucket on the table, a full tumbler next to it. After picking up his drink, Ash sat at the far end of the sofa and finally spoke. “He was the finest human being I’ve ever met.”
There was nothing Drew could say to take away Ash’s pain. The dripping wax hit flame and the candles spit and the firelight danced, casting flickering shadows across Ash’s bleak face.
“Have a drink, Drew, and tell me why you’re here.” Ash sipped his vodka and stared at Drew over the rim of his glass.
“No, thanks, I’m driving. But I do want to talk to you.” The man was a study in contrasts. Drew couldn’t think of a time he hadn’t seen Ash perfectly dressed, every hair in place, looking like he’d stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine.
Tonight, however…well, he looked off-kilter. Though he still had on his clothes from earlier, that white button-down shirt and black slacks, the shirt was wrinkled and unbuttoned lower than he’d ever seen. Dark stubble shadowed along his jaw, and his hair lay unkempt and disheveled. Drew shifted on the sofa. “Look, I know this may sound stupid, but my grandmother was concerned about you, so she asked me to stop by and check up on you.”
“And of course you do everything your nana says.”
Drew’s face flamed. “Fuck you, Davis.”
A tiny smirk hit the corner of Ash’s lips. “What’s the matter, Doc? The truth hurts?”
The bastard. After all the nice things his grandmother had said about him, how she’d worried about him, this was his response? To act like the snide sarcastic son of a bitch he’d been at their first meeting? How dare he treat her concern as if it were nothing? And to think he’d actually thought they were friends. “What the hell do you know about the truth, huh? No one knows anything about you; you have no friends, no lover.” He stood, ready to leave. “No wonder you’re all alone. No one cares about you. You aren’t worth it.” Shit, he’d never spoken so cruelly to anyone. But then again, no one had ever gotten under his skin like Ash Davis.
Like a snake uncoiled, Ash jumped off the sofa and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Take that back.”
“What’s the matter, Davis? The truth hurts?” He mimicked Ash’s earlier words and saw a flare of anger gleam in those colorless, glittering eyes.
“You fucking bastard. Who are you to say I’m not worth it, that no one cares about me? I have friends. People like me. Don’t you ever say I’m not worth it. I matter, goddamn you. I fucking matter.”
Ash tried to grab on to him, but Drew wrenched away and took off for the door, speaking over his shoulder.
“People don’t like you, Ash; they want to fuck you because you’re beautiful. That’s not liking. That’s not a friendship. How many relationships have you ever had with another man? You’ve never even had a boyfriend or a permanent relationship, have you, because you have to have a heart. You have to care about someone. How can you value someone else in your life when you don’t even value yourself?”
Ash grabbed him. “Don’t think you can say that and then fucking walk away from me.” He shoved Drew against the wall. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Ash’s hand tightened on his bicep. It hurt, and Drew pulled away. He didn’t get into physical fights with people. He didn’t believe violence solved any problem, ever. “I thought I was your friend. But now I see I’m not. You don’t know how to be a true friend. You run at the first sign of closeness and make fun of relationships. Relationships require effort, a give-and-take. You don’t know how to give because you’re always the taker.” His breath came out heavy and uneven.
Ash slammed him back into the wall. For the first time, unease rippled through Drew as Ash’s hard body pressed against his. Unease and something dark and sinuous uncoiled in his stomach, but he ignored it and tried to wriggle out of Ash’s unrelenting grip.
“Let go of me. I want to leave.”
Instead of moving away, Ash pushed harder against him. There was no mistaking that thick ridge between the two of them. Drew’s heart sped up until he could barely hear Ash through the pounding in his head.
“You said people don’t like me; they only want to fuck me. Then you said I’m a taker.” Before Drew could breathe, Ash grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head, forcing their bodies to press against one another. “But you need to know, Doc, that nobody fucks me. So tell me. You want me to take you?”