Dust of Snow (14 page)

After we’d cleared up, we moved our butts to
the couch in a cozy living room with a huge Christmas tree, its
multicolored bulbs the only source of light left in the house. It
was so peaceful, and part of me wanted to kiss Ash and forget about
what he wanted to say, but it wouldn’t be right.

Instead I took charge. “So, what’s up?” I
angled my body in his direction but left it open. No crossed legs,
no folded arms; in fact, if he scooted forward a foot or so, we
could be hugging.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning is usually a good place,” I
said. Ashley quirked a smile at me, but it didn’t look very
convincing. “Or maybe with the easiest part instead,” I added. When
he still didn’t talk, I leaned forward and gave his hand a gentle
squeeze. “I’d like to think we’re friends, if nothing else. And
that won’t change. I won’t break your trust. Even if after tonight
nothing else happens, I can promise you that.”

“I know,” Ash said quickly, easily, like my
integrity was never a doubt in his mind. He rubbed at his face,
drained his wineglass, and set it on the coffee table. “I’ve had
these nightmares for a long time,” he began. “Even as a kid,
apparently, although they seemed to get worse once I left home. In
college I had a roommate who majored in psychology. He was
convinced I was hiding some childhood trauma, that something so
terrible had happened to me I’d repressed it until it made itself
known in my dreams.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

Ashley gave me a reassuring smile. “It was
bullshit. Some people just react to stress that way. The headaches
I’ve been getting recently aren’t helping.”

“Do you know what’s causing them?”

Ashley shook his head. “Usually they don’t
start until you’re in your forties, and I’m still a year or two
away from that.”

So Ashley was ten years older. I’d never
dated an older man. For some reason it excited me, which of course
was incredibly inappropriate while Ash was telling his secrets. I
refocused. “What about the dreams?”

“I’m just very susceptible to stress. If it’s
only personal stuff, or only work, I can cope. I have ways. But if
the two begin to collide…” He huffed a laugh and looked down at his
hands. “This is about to get embarrassing.”

“You can tell me,” I assured him, shuffling
closer until our knees touched. “I won’t judge you.”

“I know you won’t. It still isn’t easy.”

I decided to help him out a bit. “I have
nightmares too, you know. Usually it’s the same one, and it’s been
with me since childhood, although the setting has changed. It used
to be about school, but now I dream I come to work and I’ve either
forgotten to put shoes on, or I’ve left my pants at home. Of course
that happens on the days I’m running out of clean laundry and I’m
wearing red silk boxers with Santa hats on them.”

Ash laughed, and then shuddered. “That is a
nightmare.”

“It’s a future waiting to happen.” I remained
silent until Ashley’s smile faded a little. “What about your
mom?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“Earlier it seemed like I’d struck a nerve,
or something.”

Ash hummed and looked away, his eyes on the
window where snow landed. The Christmas lights caught the little
flecks as they landed on the glass and glittered while they slowly
slid down. “She cheated on my dad when I was a senior in high
school. For a while they thought about splitting up, but they
worked it out.”

“Are they still together?”

“Yeah.” Ashley glanced back at me with a
smile and then stared at his hands. “Yeah, they are. In fact, I
think it fixed their marriage because they were happier after, but
to me… I mean I love my mom, obviously, but it changed
something.”

“Parents are fallible too.”

“Yes!” Ashley’s eyes lit up when they caught
my gaze. “Exactly like that. It’s not an easy thing to
realize.”

“No.” I thought about my own dad—how maybe I
should call him. Just to see how he was doing. “No, it’s not.”

A comfortable silence fell. Maybe Ash was
thinking about his parents, just like I was pondering mine.

“I’m the one who gave you that ice scraper,”
he blurted. “And the massage. And the tea cozy.”

I blinked at him. I realized a little hidden
part of me had wondered, but I hadn’t allowed myself to hope—not
after the horrible string of events at the company party. “Well,” I
croaked. “I can see why you’d be embarrassed about that. Your
knitting skills are pathetic. You should be ashamed of
yourself.”

“Shut up,” Ashley guffawed under his breath.
“My ten-year-old niece made a matching set. I have one too.”

“Why?”

“It was a school project. I think she—”

“No.” I bit back a laugh. “Why would you give
me those things?”

Ashley shrugged, and his cheeks went red, or
maybe it was the lights from the tree. “I saw how much you hate the
cold, and I noticed you scraping ice off your car with a credit
card.” He looked up at me, and I was happy to see some of the
haunted gauntness had left him. Even if things went no further
between us, telling me seemed to make him feel better. “Which, by
the way, does that thing still work? I can’t believe you used a
credit card!”

“Oh, I haven’t checked. I only use it for
online stuff anyway. Why didn’t you just tell me? I thought someone
was making fun of me.”

“I’m sorry about that. I was going to tell
you. But then that ridiculous bunch of flowers arrived, and I
figured I’d waited too long. And then you brought them into Carl’s
office and…” He shut his mouth and wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“And you believed the gossip and thought I
was sleeping with my boss.”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re not. Carl told me
everything.”

Carl told him what, exactly? I was afraid to
ask. “David sent me those flowers. He also sent me coffee. He was
trying to win me back, I guess.”

“
Asshole
,” Ashley snapped, surprising
me. “Carl said he didn’t think he treated you very well. If you
were mine—” He abruptly stopped talking.

My mouth was dry. “If I were yours?” I
coaxed. The air in the room grew warmer.

“You deserve better.”

“I deserve better,” I repeated. I realized I
was smiling. A few months ago I wouldn’t have believed it, but
sitting on Ashley’s couch as the grandfather clock chimed midnight,
I did. I
did
.

“Merry Christmas,” he said with a shy
smile.

“Merry Christmas.” I leaned in and brushed
our lips together. He reached for me, and I wanted so much to lose
myself in his kiss, but… With Herculean effort, I pulled back.
“Your nightmares and headaches. They’ve been worse?”

He nodded. “It got to me. All of it.” His
shoulders drooped and he rubbed his eyes. “And now I can’t even
sleep in my own bed anymore. I come down here in case I try to jump
out of the window again. I know it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” I took his hand in mine
and held it tight. Ashley looked at me, eyes wide and searching.
“It’s not stupid,” I repeated. “But it can’t go on.”

“It can’t?” His eyes were flicking back and
forth, like he was trying to read my meaning in my pupils.

“It can’t,” I repeated solemnly. “I feel it
is my responsibility to make sure you have a good night’s
sleep.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Your position in the company is very
important. If you became ill, or heaven forbid sleepwalked off the
top of your roof, more work would fall on Carl, which would mean
more work for me. So my motives are entirely selfish when I say I
think it’s necessary for me to stay here with you. Tonight.” I lost
some of my courage. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yes,” he quickly said. “Yes, but there’s
more.”

“There is?” Taking a deep breath, I braced
myself.

“The clearing of your driveway…”

“That was you too?”

He gave me a half-bashful, half-frightened
look. “Sorry?”

“Oh, Ashley!”

I pounced. I kissed his mouth, his dimples,
his cheekbones, and clung to his sweater. Ashley huffed when I
landed on him, a laugh that turned into a low, involuntary moan
when I kissed his throat and my stubble grazed his. Lifting up a
little, I looked at him. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, and put his hand on the back
of my head to guide me to his mouth again. This kiss was long and
life-changing and I let myself feel it. I let myself understand
that over the past year after David left me, I’d come to fear—and
after a while accept—that I might never have this kind of thing
again.

But here Ash was. Here
I
was, in his
arms, kissing and being kissed like nothing else mattered.

Just after three a.m. I startled awake,
listening to the kind of silence that follows an unexpected noise
in the dark. It took me a second to work out where I was as I
blinked at the digital alarm clock. Ashley’s curtains were far more
darkening than mine, and I didn’t immediately adjust to the near
pitch black.

“Ashley?” I felt around beside me, but while
the sheets were warm, the bed was empty. “Ash?”

I fumbled around the bed, searching for my
phone. I couldn’t remember if he had bedside lamps. I swiped it on,
and in the weak screen light I saw him standing in the corner of
the room in his boxers. My heart skipped a beat until I saw he had
his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

“Fuck,” he whispered and shuddered, clearly
waking from his sleepwalking.

“Hey, it’s okay.” I stumbled out of the bed
and went to him.

“God, this is so humiliating.”

“It’s really not. Come on. Come back to bed.”
I took his bare arm and tugged a little. His skin felt damp and
cold. “Were you dreaming?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I forgot
you were there and—”

I reached out and flicked on a standing lamp
that emitted a soft orange glow. “I startled you. It’s all right.
Come on.” I gently coaxed him back to bed. What should I say to
him? Would he want me to hold him? I’d frightened him, but right
then he seemed more upset over the embarrassment than anything
else.

And I knew a thing or two about
embarrassment.

“Now, I know I’m no underwear model,” I told
him as I pulled the covers over our shoulders, “but I really didn’t
think my face was that off-putting.” I pressed my finger into the
dimple that appeared. “This is just a suggestion, but have you
tried sleeping with a night-light?”

Ashley made a face. “No, but—”

I cut him off. “Nobody needs to know. If it
helps, what does it matter?”

He stared at me, his eyes huge and dark in
the soft lamplight. After a long silence, he said, “I figured you’d
be planning your escape by now.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ve freaked out my fair share of people in
the middle of the night. I mean, who wants to wake up to somebody
screaming?” Ashley smiled tightly. His insecurities seemed to ease
mine somehow. Or maybe it was just a matter of putting them into
perspective.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Ashley made me feel
brave. Confident. Needed.

He watched me without saying anything for a
long time. Then he reached out to touch my cheek. “Your face is not
off-putting. I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.
And I don’t just mean on the outside.”

“Little old me?” I scoffed, even as my cheeks
began to burn under his touch.

“You’re not little. You’re perfect. Perfect
for this.” He reached for me, lifting the covers, and I went,
settling into the home of his body. He was right—I did fit
perfectly between the curve of his arm and the shape of his
chest.

We’d made out on the couch like the world
might end that night, but once we’d gotten into bed in our
underwear, things had shifted. The nervous thrill had nothing to do
with the
will we, won’t we dance
. He’d been nervous about
the actual sleeping part, which put a dampener on pretty much
anything else. When I’d touched him then, it had been to reassure,
and it had sent him into much-needed sleep.

I knew it was gauche to think of one man
while I was in bed with another, but I loved that Ash needed me
like this. That he trusted me so soon. It made me realize David had
always treated me like I was lacking. Not good enough. I’d started
to wonder if anyone could ever find me attractive. But here we
were.

He absently rubbed a warm palm over my
shoulder, down my triceps, and then back up again. His lips grazed
my hair, and I moved my hand on his stomach, caressing it. Just to
see what would happen, I not so accidentally fluttered my fingers
over a nipple. It stiffened gratifyingly, the little nub swelling
into a peak. Deliberately this time, I rubbed my thumb over it, and
Ashley shuddered out a hot breath over the bridge of my nose. It
still held a hint of mouthwash. I lifted my head. Ashley’s eyes
were dark in the orange light, his pupils so wide I could hardly
see the color of his irises.