Chapter 6
JASE had slept for shit the night before. He’d tossed and turned, feeling guilty for not stepping in and angry at Ase for the possibility he’d lied.
Then he felt guilty for doubting Ase, because he seemed so sincere.
He hated their night ended like that. He didn’t want to regret it. It’d been the single most special night of his life, romantically speaking. He wanted to think he could take it with him, hold it close, and remind himself it’s better to feel for someone even if briefly than not at all. Better to have loved and lost….
Not that he thought it was love. But it’d been special. And now it was tainted.
He hadn’t heard from Ase, either. Not one fucking peep. The asshole could send one text, right?
He checked his phone a million times, but all he had were a missed call from his mother, his dad, and a few texts from Christa and buddies in his unit. No Ase. He knew he should contact all of them, but worried as he was, he’d just worry all of them. What the fuck was the point? And he really didn’t give a shit about Christa, because what could she want from him at this point? They kept going in circles and they. Were. Not. Together.
Finally, after hours and hours of waiting, he hopped a cab over to the address Jase had texted him before the thugs showed up. When he got to the restaurant he checked to see if they’d seated Ase, but then he realized he didn’t know Ase’s last name, so they told him to check to see if his party was there. They also gave him the hairy eyeball, so he must look as shitty as he felt.
When he didn’t see Ase, he asked to be seated and he sat. And sat. And sat. He must have finished two pitchers of beer, waiting well past four p.m., before they cut him off, gave him food to go, and poured him in a cab.
He didn’t want to be beside himself. But he was. He felt like he was in a bad soap opera. And he was playing the swooning maiden. Which just pissed him off.
He headed for the minibar when he got back to his room, cracking open a Heineken because it was the only beer he recognized from the selection.
After downing his second and staring at his phone, he realized he simply didn’t have time for this anymore, and he was going to feel like absolute shit tomorrow. Leaving with the uncertainty was going to suck, but flying out super early with a hangover and being unable to chase the hair of the dog was going to make for a shit day.
So he put the third beer back and grabbed a bottled water instead, opened his food and started scarfing carbs. He needed to pack, needed to check into his flight. He probably needed more carbs before bed.
One thing at a time. One day at a time.
Opening his laptop, he signed into the hotel Wi-Fi and opened his e-mail to check into his flight. But first a new message caught his attention. A. Ramirez was the name. Subject: For You, Gringo (2 Attachments).
Jase practically broke the damn touchpad clicking the link so hard. It’d been sent just an hour earlier.
Jase,
Thank you so much for last night. It was the best night I’ve had in a long time. Thanks for giving a stalker a chance.
Jase had to stop to chuckle. And the stupid booze had him all misty-eyed so he couldn’t see for a second.
I’m so fucking sorry for how the night ended. I’m even more sorry for not making our lunch today.
My cousin’s friend saw us holding hands in Glockenbachviertel and followed us to your hotel.
Jase had to stand up and pace a couple of times. Fuck, why hadn’t he thought about Ase’s family? He’d been so busy thinking about how no one he knew could have seen them. But then again, Ase hadn’t seemed particularly concerned. How would he know?
He sat back down, breathing in and out, trying to calm down his racing, angry, and aching heart.
I am being sent to my parents “in shame”. Of course, it is not 1820, so all they can really do is put me out. It’s strange. I feel worse for you having seen that than for them to know the truth. Maybe that’s just me putting on a brave face. I’m sure you understand what it’s like to not want family disappointed in you. I won’t trouble you with the details.
I hope this weekend with me has made you feel as ready for the changes coming as it has me.
I’m sorry again we didn’t get a proper goodbye. I’m also sorry there have been so many “sorries” between us since we met.
Good luck with your last months abroad and with going home. Maybe I’ll find one of my own, soon. I know I may not have known you long, and at the risk of sounding incredibly silly, I still think you’re a very good man. Hold your head high.
Your Stalker,
Ase
Jase swallowed around the lump in his throat. Fuck. This should not be so hard. He really liked Ase though, and he felt horrible for him. He also felt a little sorry for himself that he’d never see the man again.
He moved the cursor over the attachments. The first was the photo of him at Neuschwanstein Castle. God, that felt like a lifetime ago, even though it’d only been two days. Ase had done as promised and put it through photo editing, because it was so very crystal clear. He looked like a model in a tourism ad. Ase had titled the file For Your Mom, which made Jase smile.
He clicked the one that said, For You.
And his breath caught in his throat.
He lay asleep on Ase’s chest, lit by the bedside reading lamp, looking much younger than his twenty-one years. Ase was kissing his forehead, his tattooed arm visible in the side, obviously holding the camera up. Ase hadn’t used a filter on that one. They both looked perfect, regardless.
Jase stared at the photo for what felt like hours, remembering the smell of Ase, his laugh, his sexy accent, the way he teased Jase. A weekend was not enough.
But it has to be.
He closed out of the e-mail with finality, saving it to its own, new, untitled folder, then put away his inner drama queen, wiped his eyes because yes, they were leaking, and yes, he knew he was acting like a love-sick kid again. But hey, he’d gone this long without it, he was due one fit of adolescent dramatics.
He pulled up the e-mail with his flight information and checked-in for his early-as-fuck flight.
Then he decided, fuck it. This weekend had been good, amazing even. In large part, because of Ase. He thought about his many friends who’d left the service, his buddy Ryan who he hadn’t seen in three years but still e-mailed often. Maybe Ase… No, that was dumb.
“Don’t be a pussy, Emery,” he said out loud. So what if the guy didn’t respond? The weekend would just be a fond memory. Even if they did start e-mailing, he’d probably never see Ase again, not with that much family drama going down.
He pulled up a new message and typed.
SUBJECT: Good Luck
Ase,
I didn’t know if it was okay to e-mail you. I hope it is. I thought maybe a friendly “good luck” was in order. So good luck, man.
Thanks for the weekend. This was great.
I was wondering if maybe we could keep in touch? Maybe we’ll be in each other’s neck of the woods one day. Either way. The photos were great.
Thanks again.
Jase
He blushed and erased each line at least twice before re-typing it. Then clicked send. The only way he could think not to obsess over the damn message was to go to bed. He had to be up early anyway. Not that he ended up getting any sleep.
It wasn’t until the next day when he was preparing to board his plane, making last minute check-ups on his phone that he saw an RE: Good Luck.
His chest may or may not have pitter-pattered with delight.
But his face definitely did stretch into what he had no doubt was a goofy-ass grin when he read the simple message.
Jase,
Thank you. Always. I’d love nothing more than hearing from you.
And did you really say “neck of the woods”? ; )
A