Snowed In Anthology Read online

  Ross scratched behind his ear. It was something Porthos did all the time, when something confused him. The similarity made Ash laugh, maybe a little sadly.

  “Is there an issue you’re not telling me about?” Ross sat down. “I know health care in some places can be a little sketchy. If you picked something up along the way, just tell me. We can take precautions, it’s okay.”

  Ash closed his eyes. It was good to know, he guessed, that Ross would be understanding if Ash did have a problem in that vein. A lot of guys weren’t. “No, no, I don’t have any issues like that. Thank God, or whoever, right? It’s just—I mean some things have changed, and some haven’t. I’m still not great with casual.”

  Ross stared at him in disbelief. Then he leaned back, laughing. “Oh, come on, man. You were all over the world, moving on a moment’s notice. You don’t expect me to believe you were celibate all that time, do you?”

  Ash narrowed his eyes at Ross. He didn’t owe Ross an explanation at all, much less a detailed sexual history for the past eight years. He wanted to be forgiving, though. He wanted to be honest, and he wanted to give Ross the benefit of the doubt. “Look, I’m not saying I never did casual. I did have some real relationships, though. The casual things, the friends with benefits arrangements—I’m not judging or anything, they just didn’t work for me. I always felt…I don’t know. I always felt like shit afterwards. Dirty. Ashamed. Gross. It’s not anything about the guys involved, and it’s not even really anything about me. Some guys can do casual or open, some guys need monogamy and commitment. I’ve always been the latter. It was a bit of a problem for us before, if I remember correctly.”

  Ross glowered at Ash. “We had an open relationship. There was nothing casual about what you and I had.”

  Ash sighed. He should have known Ross wouldn’t get it. Ross was a great guy, and Ash had always loved him, but they just hadn’t ever been compatible. Ross liked to go with the flow, and just do what came into his head. Ash needed commitment. He needed to be somebody’s. “See, it probably felt that way to you. But to me, because I wasn’t yours, because we didn’t have that commitment, it didn’t feel like it to me.

  “Anyway, the whole point is that I know how I tend to feel afterward when I do things that are casual, you know? When I get into things that are just sex, or just temporary, or whatever. It’s not good for me, for my mental health or my well-being. So even though I wanted it last night, and even though I do want it now, I have to say no. Because I know it’s just going to hurt later.”

  Ross stood up. He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth. “I’m going to go sit in there for a minute.” He stalked off into one of the other rooms, boots loud against the wooden floor.

  Ash folded himself up and leaned against the wall. He should have realized Ross would react like that, or at least not well. He shouldn’t have hoped for any more understanding. He should probably have just made something up about not wanting their rescuers to walk in on them in the nude or something like that.

  He frowned at himself, unfolded himself, and straightened up. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He was grateful to Ross for saving him and Porthos, but he didn’t owe him sex. He didn’t owe him lies either, or self-harm. And letting Ross screw him just as a way to kill time, when Ash knew how it would affect him later, would be an act of self-harm.

  He’d told Ross he wasn’t judging him. He’d explained, patiently, that some guys just weren’t cut out for non-monogamy, and Ash was one of them. If Ross couldn’t accept that and move on, then it wasn’t on Ash. It was okay for Ash to want what Ash wanted, and not to settle for anything less. He’d earned it, damn it.

  He checked through his messages. He had a few from work people. His editor, John, had liked the pieces he’d sent in and had aired them. Viewer feedback had been good too—apparently Ash was a hit with viewers of all genders, which was kind of a shocker. When rescuers got to him and he was able to get out and do his real job, viewers shouldn’t have any trouble making the adjustment when Ash took over in the anchor’s chair. That was a huge relief for Alex. He might not be thrilled about the job change, but it was good to know he had a chance of succeeding.

  He heard from the school, too. The Dean had just found out about his situation—had seen him on the news, in fact. He’d sent a clip out of him to the incoming freshman class, showing how one of their professors had taken a bad situation and turned it into a great journalistic opportunity.

  Ash sighed. Both of these situations should have meant things were looking up. When he got out of here, and had a place to live and food in his belly, he’d probably see things that way. For now, though, everything seemed as bleak as the frozen landscape outside.

  Chapter 5

  Ross leaned against the wall in what had probably once been the dining room and tried to get himself under control. He didn’t know what upset him more. On the one hand, the idea that Ash wrote off everything they’d been to each other as “casual” made his blood boil. Ross had put time and effort and energy into their relationship for two years, and it had broken his heart when Ash called his bluff and refused to come out and be with him in public.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have issued an ultimatum if he wasn’t prepared to have Ash call him on it, but it was a little late for take backs now.

  On the other hand, why would Ash feel he had to have some kind of lifetime commitment for sex? They were here. They’d barely reunited, damn it. Why would Ash be making any kind of assumptions about them and their relationship, at all? A lot had changed since they split up back in college, and Ash didn’t know the half of it. He hadn’t asked.

  Ross couldn’t calm himself much. He stormed back into the other room. “Look.” He double checked to make sure Ash wasn’t recording, and then he continued. “Just because a relationship is open doesn’t mean it’s casual. What we had was important, and what we had was special. And more to the point, you agreed to it. I told you what I wanted—what I needed—and you said yes. You can’t sit here ten years later and pretend you were a victim.”

  Porthos stood in between Ross and Ash, and Ross almost felt bad. Obviously, the poor dog thought he was being too aggressive. What had Ash gone through, what had Porthos had to defend Ash from, that he had that kind of reaction? But Ash was struggling to his feet. His back was straight and his jaw was set. “I never said I was a victim. I never said I didn’t agree to having an open relationship. I said it wasn’t something that worked well for me, which is something you freaking knew at the time. I hated it. I told you I hated it. Is this a revelation for you somehow? Did you think I was just saying I hated it for, I don’t know, attention?”

  Ross scoffed. “You hated it so much you stuck with me for two years.”

  “Yeah. You and all your boyfriends. It was swell. Every time I wanted to get together, for comfort or to celebrate something, and you were off with some other guy, that was just freaking awesome. Every time I had to sit there and smile while some other dude had his tongue down your throat. Or when you came home tasting like some other guy. Loved it.”

  “Poor little Ash. You wanted a commitment so freaking bad but you wouldn’t make one yourself.” Ross pretended to cry, rubbing at his eyes. “Like anyone in his right mind is going to restrict himself to someone who won’t hold his hand, or who won’t ever introduce him to his parents. Give me a break! I am not someone to be ashamed of, and I never was.”

  Ash pulled his head back and screwed his face up, like Ross had just been speaking a language he couldn’t understand. “Ashamed? Give me a break. It was a matter of safety and practicality. If I’d come out back then my mom would have pulled me out of school so fast there wouldn’t even be a word for it. And that’s without adding the extra fun part of explaining that yeah, I’m gay, and I’m in love with this guy who won’t even stop seeing other guys. She wouldn’t have just pulled me out of school, she’d have had me committed.”

  “Your mom’s homophobia is not my fault.” Ross refused to let As
h make him out to be the bad guy in their breakup, or in their relationship. “If it was so bad, you’d have left.”

  “I should have.” Ash glowered at him. “I thought about it, but I loved you too much. So, I stayed, and honestly, sometimes I regret it.”

  Ross staggered back. “What? How can you even say something like that? We were good together.”

  “We were.” Ash turned away. “Why are you attacking me, Ross? It’s been eight years since we split up. We did something last night that felt good but that we shouldn’t have done—”

  Ross slapped his hand against the wall. “That! That right there. It’s that whole ‘shouldn’t have done’ part. You’re acting like it was something bad, like it was something I did against your will or something.” His hand stung, but Ross refused to show it. His heart was racing now.

  “You’re reading something into it that isn’t there.” Ash narrowed his eyes at Ross. “I told you where I was coming from. I didn’t judge you and I didn’t say I didn’t want it. I said I didn’t like the effect that kind of behavior had on me. And now you think—what, I should just push all that to the side because you’re bored and horny?”

  “Now who’s reading into things?” Ross pointed at Ash. He didn’t know quite what he wanted from this argument, but he knew he couldn’t give in. “I don’t even want to have sex anymore. I’m pissed, because you’re sitting there and acting like it’s something you didn’t want.”

  “Except for the part where I told you outright it was good and I did want it. It’s just a bad idea, for me.” Ash leaned against the wall. “What is it you’re trying to accomplish here, Ross? We can’t go anywhere. We’re stuck here until they come and dig us out. We can sit here and scream at each other for hours, but it’s not going to change anything.”

  Ross took a deep breath. What did he want here? He didn’t know anymore, but he couldn’t give in. “I want you to take it back. You said you regret staying with me. I want you to take that back.”

  “No.” Ash stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I won’t do that. I’m going to be honest. I think I did a lot of damage to myself, staying in a situation that made me unhappy. I loved you, and I loved being with you. I hated that you didn’t love me.”

  “I adored you!” Ross closed the distance between them. At least, he got as close as Porthos would let him get. The dog gave him a little warning growl, and Ross stopped where he was. “I practically worshipped the ground you walked on.”

  Ash scoffed. “And the ground Adam walked on, and the ground Ed walked on…” His grin was bitter.

  “Would you give it a rest? You knew what you were getting into when you said yes.”

  “I was an eighteen-year old kid, Ross.” Ash sighed and looked down at the ground. “I wanted to be with you, and that was the only way. And I wanted to be open-minded. I gave it a try. How the hell was I supposed to know how miserable it would make me feel if I hadn’t tried it? I keep telling you, me not wanting to do casual isn’t a judgment on you for liking that kind of relationship. It’s about me, remembering how awful I felt. How much I wound up hating myself for not being enough for you. That’s what it’s about.”

  “That’s horse shit.” Ross turned away. “I always loved you. Even after we split up, I loved you. Christ, I still care about you now!”

  Now Ash did stand up. His dark eyes burned. “You’re so full of shit.”

  Ross clenched his hands into fists. “Did you just call me a liar?” He’d never hurt Ash, certainly not while he was in his current state, but the accusation flooded him with rage nevertheless.

  “Eight years and you had no idea where I’d been or what I’d been doing? You still ‘cared for me’ but you didn’t recognize me, even though I’ve been on TV on a consistent basis ever since graduation? I mean for crying out loud, someone did out me and you didn’t even know. But yeah, you care so much.” Ash’s lip curled, full of contempt and spite. “Spare me, all right? You can keep your pity, and you can keep your fake concern, and you can keep your bullshit excuses about sowing your oats or whatever. I ain’t interested. I don’t care. It’s in the past. Let’s just leave it there.”

  Ross laughed. “Oh, you want to cast stones about who didn’t keep in touch? Are you really that arrogant that you think I should have been sitting there and pining away for you? Seriously? I get why you wouldn’t come out, back then. I mean you were on a scholarship, they couldn’t have pulled you out of school, but let’s be real. You didn’t care enough about me to stand up and admit you were sleeping with me.

  “And you seriously think you’re famous enough that I was going to notice you on TV, or being outed, or any of that? Get over yourself. You’re a nobody. No one watches the news anymore, come on. No one cares about any of that crap. If it’s not right before sports, no one’s going to see it. It’s not like you were following up on me, either.”

  “Actually, I did. I checked up on your social media every few months, just to see how you were doing.” Ash sneered. “Stupid of me, but I actually did wish you well. I don’t expect you to sit there and watch me on TV, or to read the trash gossip sites or whatever. But don’t sit there and make shit up about how much you care and expect me to believe it when it is so damn easy to prove wrong, okay? I’m not stupid. Pretty far from it. I do learn from my mistakes, though, and getting together with a guy who only ever felt contempt for me was one of the dumbest things I ever did.”

  “Where the hell are you getting this ‘contempt’ thing from?” Ross stepped back. He was still too angry to be sensitive to Ash about his phrasing. “You’re so full of crap it’s running out your ears. I was good to you.”

  “Except for the part where you dumped me because I wouldn’t risk coming out for you.” Ash crossed his arms over his chest. “That would’ve been awesome, right? Coming out to be one among many—who wouldn’t want that?” He rolled his eyes. “How many guys are you stringing along now, Ross? Ten? Twenty?”

  “I never strung you along!” Ross shouted. “You always knew exactly what you were getting.”

  “No.” Ash shook his head. “I didn’t. That part isn’t on you, though. I didn’t understand it. I do now, and I know it’s not for me. Which frankly shouldn’t be an issue and shouldn’t be something we’re having a screaming match over, but here we are.”

  “Maybe if you’d figured yourself out then we would have dealt with it right and we wouldn’t be having this fight now.” Ross fought the urge to punch a wall.

  “You’re right. I was afraid of losing you. I lost you anyway.” Ash closed his eyes for a second. He looked so sad for a moment that Ross almost lost his anger. Then Ash straightened up. “But you’re right. If I’d known we weren’t ever going to really be a couple, and I’d had enough self-respect to do the right thing and walk away, I think we both would have been a lot better off.”

  “You don’t really think I was going to give up everything I was getting from those guys for someone who wouldn’t hold my hand in public?” Ross reached toward Ash, but pulled his hand back when Porthos growled again. “Seriously?”

  “Definitely not. I don’t think you were going to give up a goddamn thing, Ross.” Ash squatted down and packed his things up. “I’m going to go hang out in the other room. I think it’s best if we avoid each other until rescuers get here to start digging us out. I’m grateful you saved me and Porthos, but I’m not sure there’s a whole lot to be gained by continuing this conversation.” He moved into the dining room. Porthos followed him, with a backwards glance toward Ross.

  All of the energy drained from Ross as he watched Ash go. Years ago, he’d given Ash an ultimatum. Ash had called his bluff, and Ross had lost him forever. Now, Ross’ temper had cost him a chance to smooth things over with Ash. Did he want to try again? Maybe. He’d at least wanted to keep in touch, and maybe to be friendly with each other.

  Instead, they got into a screaming fight. Ross was still angry that Ash thought he was somehow the victim here, but he was also ups
et with himself. He hadn’t had a chance to convince Ash he’d have called things off with the other guys, if Ash had just been willing to acknowledge their relationship in public. He hadn’t had a chance to tell Ash he was willing to settle down now.

  Ash wouldn’t believe him now anyway. Ross wrapped himself up in the blanket that smelled like both of them and stared at the wall. There wasn’t anything else for him to do.

  * * * *

  Ash settled into the ugly former dining room and set up his computer again. He tried to think of something to talk about for a segment, but what was there to say? Hi, this is Ash, this is the news, and I’m so angry my hands are still shaking? Way to stay professional. He opened up his browser and dug into social media instead. At least he could pretend he was connected to the outside world.

  As he scrolled through his friends’ status updates, he couldn’t help but sigh. They were out there covering important stories while Ash was here, stuck in an abandoned house time had forgotten. They were risking life and limb to keep Americans informed and Ash was going to sit in a chair and smile at the camera.

  You’re lucky to be alive at all. Quit your whining and move on.

  How often had he said those words to himself? Obviously not enough, if he was still sitting around and complaining about his new cushy anchor job. It even paid better than reporting. It just wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing, or what he was trained to do.

  He’d known Ross was still in the area when he took the job. He hadn’t planned to see him again, but he’d known Ross was around. Eastern Massachusetts was a big place, with a lot of people in it. Ash had figured if he and Ross did run into one another, it would be a quick encounter, like two ships passing in the night. Getting snowed into an old, empty house together hadn’t ever been part of the plan.

  He examined his own conduct during the fight, since he couldn’t get the fight out of his head. Obviously, Ross had been in the wrong, because he’d gone and picked a fight with Ash when Ash decided not to have sex with him. But had Ash done anything for which he could blame himself?