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Harry frowned. “Ever?”
Asher shook his head. “No. He’s agoraphobic. Well, I don’t know if he’s ever been diagnosed, but he can’t walk outside his property gates. Has full blown anxiety attacks if he tries.”
Harry hadn’t expected that, and he no doubt had more questions, but the pilot greeted them. Harry spoke to him, which was basically Harry interrogating him after their last endeavour on a private plane, while Asher stared up at the steps to get into the plane.
Christ.
It may as well have been Everest.
He held onto the handrail and took one slow step at a time. He could never remember being so useless. But Harry was soon behind him, should Asher do something stupid like fall, and he helped him into his seat.
The plane was brand new and incredibly luxurious, immaculate white leather and wood veneer. But the seats... Asher was already having trouble keeping his eyes open. These seats were so, so very comfortable. “Oh wow.”
“I’m going to buy you a recliner,” Harry said, stowing away their duffle bag. “What is it with you and comfy leather chairs? Maybe I’ll even buy you one of those vibrating massaging chairs.”
Asher chuckled, his eyes closed. The pain pill had taken the edge off but, oh boy, was he tired.
“I’m excited to meet this Number Four of yours,” Harry said. “Do I get to know his real name before I meet him? Or do I actually call him Number Four?”
“The fact that he wants to meet you is a big deal. He doesn’t let many people into his house. I’ve only been there a few times.”
“You have?”
“His new place, yes. Just a few.” Asher fought to keep his eyes open. “I’m tired, Harry.”
“What’s his name, Asher. You gotta give me something.”
Harry wasn’t just excited. He was nervous. It was cute. Asher had never divulged information on Four before. Not to anyone, not for anything. But Harry was different.
“I’m going to meet the guy,” Harry added. “The least you can do is tell me his name.”
“It’s Oh Yunho.”
Harry was quiet before he sighed. “For fuck’s sake, Asher. If I knew, I wouldn’t have to ask. After all we’ve said about sticking together and trusting one another, and you say, ‘oh you know,’ like I already know. Which I don’t. It’s why I’ve asked you a dozen times. But if you don’t wanna say, I’ll just ask him myself.”
Asher chuckled, almost asleep. “No. His name is Oh Yunho. Surname Oh, first name Yunho.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly. Oh Yunho.” He was smiling though he couldn’t fight sleep another second. “We joke about his name. But Four is funny too.”
“Do I want to know why he’s called Four?”
Asher closed his eyes and sighed. “In Korean, the number four sounds like the word for death.”
