Page 37 of Driven By Impulse

Nicco had always known there would come a day when Ash would no longer need him. But he had never expected that the realization would feel like being flayed open like a sacrifice in a Greek myth, alive long enough to feel the birds pecking at his organs.

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Ash murmured. “And Wil had the best shower. I’ll show you in a second.”

He carefully carried Hanna up the stairs and down the hall, and Nicco made his way to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, but even though it was all too common for them to share a drink after a mission went well—and theirs, for all intents and purposes had gone well—he couldn’t bring himself to reach for a bottle. Better to feel something than nothing at all, even if that something felt like a delicious kind of agony dressed in a forest-green gown and perfectly fitted tuxedo.

A moment later, Ash joined Nicco in the kitchen. He had lost his riding jacket and tuxedo somewhere along the way, and rolled up the sleeves on his dress shirt, so Nicco could see all the stories there. He’d had a few tattoos by the time they met, but both of them had gotten so many more in the years since, some even at Dante’s shop. Hell, Nicco had been sitting next to Ash in the chair when he’d been getting inked more times than he could count, nothing about the soft contrast of dark ink on smooth pale skin should have been capturing his attention.

But fuck all, it did.

“I know I’m getting old,” Ash muttered. “All I want is some electrolytes and a hot shower.”

Nicco tried not to wince, but his mind seemed to be a traitor that night, bursting with images of Ash in the shower, hot under the spray, stroking himself with soapy, slick fingers.

“If you’re old, that makes me ancient,” Nicco managed instead. “Are you telling me you can’t hang with the big boys anymore?”

It was the kind of shit trash talk they always threw at each other, had been throwing at each other for years.

But now it felt altogether different, like the words held an electric charge, and if either of them picked up the end of the wire, they were likely to burn.

Ash, always the braver of the two of them, reached for it with both hands.

He stepped forward, close, too close to be nothing but not close enough to be anything at all.

“Come on, Nic…” he teased, his canines glinting. “You know I can most definitely hang with the big boys.”

Then he slipped past Nicco, their shoulders pressing for only a second, before Ash turned around. “I promised I’d show you the shower, didn’t I?”

Chapter Fifteen

It was fuck-all stupid, but Ash knew he couldn’t back down now. He led Nic down the hall toward where Wil’s room had been, aware that there was a line in the sand that seemed to be eroding with every fresh wave of lust and desire, and that he couldn’t seem to bring himself to draw it again.

“After I moved in, Wil took the bedroom on the first floor,” he explained, not entirely sure why he was bringing up the closest thing he’d ever had to a father when his mind was a depraved tapestry of wants, but unable to let the silence stretch between them. “He said it was to keep me from sneaking out, but I honestly think he just couldn’t be near Rose’s room anymore…”

Nicco stepped closer to him. “Rose was Hanna’s sister.”

Ash chewed on his lip and gave a short nod. “Not my story to tell. She was gone by the time I got here. I think Wil used me as a project to keep himself from losing it, but…” He shrugged. “Worked out for both of us, so I can’t be too upset about that.”

Nicco released a low breath. “Hanna also said she had stories that weren’t hers. About Ralston.”

Ash shot him a glance. “Was that before or after you got distracted from the mission?”

Ah, there was that bitterness Ash had been expecting, jealousy and want in a complex tangle he couldn’t start to unravel, for fear of what the picture would show.

Nicco raised a brow. “How could you possibly know about that?”

He didn’t sound altogether too surprised.

It was Ash’s turn to raise a brow. “I mean, you kind of looked like you wanted to eat her when we were dancing.”

Something approximating a smile crinkled at the edges of Nicco’s eyes as he stepped closer to Ash. “So did you.”

Ash shook his head and walked into Wil’s old room. Hanna had converted it into an office, with a large desk pushed against one wall and simple filing systems set up around it. Even though they were worlds apart, Ash couldn’t help but be reminded of Iverson’s office, the dark wood and the dark closets, and the secrets whispered in the in-between.

“Wil gave himself one gift moving in here,” he said, instead of responding to Nicco’s taunt. He pushed the door open to the lavish bathroom. “Had this amazing en suite installed. Hanna and I didn’t agree on much back then, but we were both so jealous.”

It was as big and enticing as Ash had always remembered it, decked in green tile and natural wood. The shower took up the entire far wall, with stone benches on either side, under opposing showerheads.

“Even had the floors heated. Cold Montana nights.”