A king-size bed took up most of the space. It was made of black iron, with posts on every corner and bars connecting those at the head to each other and those at the foot to each other. Like in the great room, there weren’t any pictures on the walls, no knickknacks on any surfaces or, really, many surfaces to speak of. Two nightstands, one dresser, both glossy black. That was it.
Asher put his suitcase and Daniel’s duffel down. Daniel set his laptop case down next to the bags.
“There’s an attached bathroom through that door,” Asher said as he pointed toward a door at one end of the room.
Daniel put his hand on his stomach and rubbed it. He felt just as sick as he had in anticipation of the flight. He looked up at Asher and licked his lips. When Asher’s face seemed to fade out at the edges of Daniel’s vision, Daniel blinked his eyes rapidly and tried to focus. He swayed and suddenly felt light-headed.
Asher’s expression, which had been neutral, morphed immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern evident in his tone and in the way his eyebrows furrowed. He cupped Daniel’s cheek and rubbed his thumb over Daniel’s bottom lip. “You look like you saw a ghost or something and”—Asher moved his hand to Daniel’s nape, put the other at this waist, and tugged him close—“you’re pale as a sheet.”
Daniel darted his gaze to the bed, taking in the crisp white sheets. Had anybody even slept in that bed? He was sure he could bounce a quarter off the mattress and… were those hospital corners? “I don’t… I don’t….” Daniel sucked in huge gulps of air.
“You don’t what, sugar?” Asher looked down at him, his expression tender, the look in his eyes full of worry. He pulled Daniel’s head against his chest and rocked them both from side to side. “Shhh,” he whispered into Daniel’s ear. “Shhh. Talk to me, sugar. I’ll take care of it. Whatever has you so upset, I’ll take care of it. Talk to me.”
Daniel relaxed at the comforting words and gestures. He pressed himself as close as he could to Asher and clutched his shirt tightly.
“Daniel?” Asher said. “Talk to me.”
With his eyes squeezed together to shut out his surroundings, Daniel took in a deep breath and answered. “I don’t fit here. I thought—” He licked his lips again. “I thought it’d be different this time, but it’s not… I don’t—”
“Oh, is that what has you so worked up? I know the apartment isn’t big, but don’t worry. I’ll clear out room for you in the closet and in the dresser. Everything will fit just fine.”
It took a moment for Asher’s words to register, and then Daniel started shaking with laughter. He was in the midst of an existential panic attack and Asher was going to solve it by emptying a drawer.
“Hey, come on now. Are you… you’re not crying, are you?” Asher asked, sounding horribly uncomfortable. “There, there,” he said and patted Daniel’s back awkwardly.
That was all it took for Daniel to let out a deep belly laugh. Big strong man, terrified of a few tears. He leaned back and looked at Asher’s face. “I’m okay. Sorry about that. I, uh, get a little worked up sometimes but….” He darted his eyes around the room and took a calming breath. “A couple of drawers would be great.” He looked at his duffel bag. “Don’t worry about making space in your closet; I don’t have anything that needs to be hung.”
“Okay. Good,” Asher said with a nod. He sounded relieved that the emotional episode was behind them. “Not good about the closet, good about the, uh, other, uh…. When the rest of your things get here, if we need more space, we’ll figure it out, okay?”
Daniel chuckled. “The rest of my things?”
“Well, yeah.” Asher walked over to the bags he’d set down and started unzipping his suitcase, separating dirty clothes into piles. “I mean, you’re staying here now, right? So you should have, uh, whoever has your stuff send it.” He paused and looked back at Daniel over his shoulder. “Who has your things?” It sounded less like a question and more like an accusation.
Was Asher jealous? Daniel rubbed his lips together to hold back his pleased smile. He knew he shouldn’t like that, but he couldn’t help himself. He had a thing for possessive men. Always had. Chase was forever giving him a hard time about it. “My clothes are in that bag. All of them. There’s nothing to send and nobody to send it.”
“Uh.” Asher looked down at the duffel bag and then back at Daniel. “All your belongings are in this bag?”
“Sure.” Daniel nodded and squatted down next to Asher, unzipped his duffel, and added his dirty clothes to Asher’s pile. “A couple pairs of jeans, a couple pairs of shorts, some T-shirts, and a couple sweatshirts. I don’t need anything else, and besides, I like to travel light. Makes it easier to go wherever, whenever, you know?”