Behind The Limelight

17: Burn For Him

Ashton stormed out of the room in search of Ryker, a bunch of questions in his mind that he was dying to get the answers of. Thankfully, the house wasn't too big and Ashton found his way to the kitchen, where Ryker was, pretty quickly.

Ryker was sitting at the counter, a cup of coffee in front of him. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses, his gaze fixed on a newspaper as he flipped through the pages. He was shirtless, only wearing a pair of loose black gym shorts. His hair seemed a little wet, and his brown skin was glistening as well, indicating that he had probably taken a shower not too long ago.

Ashton stopped in his tracks due to the sight in front of him, he was caught off-guard. Apart from a couple of times back when they were teenagers, Ashton had only ever seen Ryker shirtless on the big screen. He had always chalked up Ryker's muscular built to make-up and special effects, but he was now realizing that he had been wrong.

He gulped. His eyes slightly widened as Ryker grabbed the coffee mug and brought it closer to his lips, his biceps flexing at the simple task. The counter and the newspaper was covering most of Ryker, so Ashton couldn't, yet, see the full view.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Ashton thought to himself.

Ryker kept the newspaper down, a look of surprise took over his face as he realized that Ashton was just a few feet away from him. The two men stared at each other wordlessly, until Ashton finally cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away.

"How about a cup of black?" Ryker asked, he took off his glasses and kept them on the counter as he stood up and made his way over to the coffee machine. "How are you feeling now? Any headache? Nausea? Do you need an aspirin?"

"I'm fine," Ashton muttered. "What the hell happened last night?"

"You barfed about a million times on the road, kept yelling at me for no reason, and then passed out in my car," Ryker answered, his back was towards Ashton as he poured him a cup.

Ashton used that opportunity to look at Ryker again, before shaking his head to get himself out of the trance that he seemed to keep falling into.

"Did you...did you change my clothes?" Ashton asked. Ryker turned around, giving Ashton a long look before walking over to him.

"No," Ryker answered. "You passed out. So I tried carrying you inside but then you woke up and started thrashing around like a fish out of water."

"Uh—"

"You kept blabbering about calling some Vivian?"

"My housekeeper," Ashton muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed. He was usually a fine drunk, God knows what the hell was up with him yesterday.

"Right," Ryker let out a small laugh. "Well, I told you she wasn't here so you huffed and barged into my house. Then you said you had to throw up again. I took you to the guest room and you puked your guts out, you got some on your shirt too so I grabbed one of mine for you to wear."

"Oh," Ashton nodded. "And I changed completely on my own?"

"Pretty much. You got your shirt and the chain you were wearing tangled up around your head, though. So I had to help you out a bit there," Ryker paused. "Don't worry, you were fairly capable for a drunk. And watching you wrestle with yourself made up for everything."

"I told you it was the food, not the alcohol!" Ashton huffed, folding his arms in front of his chest. Ryker chuckled again as he walked closer to the other man. "One last thing..."

"Yeah?"

"How the fuck did I get a hickey on my neck?" Ashton asked. Ryker furrowed his brows as he frowned in confusion.