Chapter 20
JAY
The text was waiting for Jay when he woke up, making his stomach explode with butterflies. He grinned after noticing the time stamp. Five in the morning. Aaron must have done it first thing, just as eager for a repeat as Jay was.
He rolled onto his back, closing his eyes and replaying the memories from the previous night.
Lost in the moment, letting their bodies guide them, their chemistry had been explosive.
Every prior hookup he’d ever had paled in comparison to the raw passion that passed between him and Aaron, and he could only imagine how much better it would be once they got to know each other’s preferences.
As his thoughts turned to the future, the lust faded.
He had to stay cautious. Aaron wanted another scene, but that didn’t mean he was interested in dating Jay.
At the bar, he’d talked about wanting a real relationship but seemed convinced it was an unrealistic expectation.
Jay didn’t agree—he’d gladly give Aaron everything he was looking for—but it wasn’t his call.
Aaron was the one coming out of a divorce and making up for lost time. Regardless of how easily Jay could imagine falling for him, he had to let Aaron set the pace.
His phone beeped with a reminder to drag himself out of bed.
He had a full day ahead of him. Besides the boring weekly errands and soccer practice, he’d also promised his dad he’d come over to install their new stereo system and stay for dinner.
It was just as well Aaron hadn’t pushed to meet today—it spared Jay the guilt of choosing between him and his parents.
As he moved through the day, Aaron’s face kept flitting in and out of his mind. He wasn’t sure which one made his chest tighten more—the hunger in Aaron’s eyes when he’d dropped to his knees or the relaxed smile playing on his lips during the quiet moments of aftercare.
But the pleasant daydreams were interspersed with flickers of unease.
Jay couldn’t begin to guess what boundaries Aaron might set, and he worried he might have already crossed some of them.
Sure, Aaron had insisted he could speak up for himself, and Jay believed him, but he also seemed like someone who’d keep quiet about subtle discomforts for Jay’s sake.
Dozens of scenarios played out in Jay’s head, every possible direction their conversation might go, and by the time he was parked in his parents’ driveway, he had to force himself to stop spiraling.
Whatever Aaron wanted or didn’t want, Jay would do everything in his power to make him happy.
Even if it was just sex. Even if it didn’t lead to anything more.
Even if it broke his heart. Jay would take every opportunity to put that soft, satisfied smile on Aaron’s face.
The stereo system was easy enough to set up—figuring out where to place the speakers was the hardest part.
As it was, the living room could have doubled as a museum, with art crowding the walls, sculptures and souvenir tchotchkes on every surface, and rugs covering every inch of the floor.
Jay’s mom wandered in and out as he worked, frowning at every suggestion.
Eventually, Jay gave up and asked his dad to figure out an acceptable spot.
After his parents had a brief conversation in the kitchen, his mom returned and cleared a shelf, stacking delicate vases in her arms while glaring at the speakers.
On her way out, she cupped Jay’s cheek and smiled, wordlessly letting him know her frustrations didn’t extend to him.
Jay tried not to chuckle at the resignation on his dad’s face as they finished setting up.
The new gadget had been his dad’s idea, and he was probably regretting it now that it had disturbed the perfectly curated peace of his wife’s living room.
Jay wasn’t worried. His parents bickered and huffed at each other, but it never lasted. Their love was too big to hold a grudge.
By the time they sat down to a simple dinner of herbed rice and kabobs, everything was back to normal.
The three of them chatted about TV shows and neighborhood news, easy topics that didn’t require Jay’s full attention.
He was glad Layla and Jasmine weren’t there—they would have immediately picked up on his distracted mood and started prying.
Jay froze mid-bite. His sisters weren’t there. He could actually talk to his parents without their running commentary.
“I might be getting a promotion at work,” he blurted out.
The conversation halted as his parents slowly turned to face Jay, waiting for him to continue. He finished chewing and swallowed. “It’s not a done deal, but my boss thinks I’d be good at it.”
“Of course you would be,” his mom declared with complete certainty. Jay doubted she even understood what he did for work, despite explaining more than once, but her faith in her children didn’t require specifics.
He told them a little about the offer, focusing on the exciting aspects of more responsibility and mentoring employees, amused by their over-the-top excitement. It was as if he’d just announced he was being promoted to CEO.
Afterward, as he watched his mom pack up the leftovers, Jay realized something had been missing at dinner. Roasted tomatoes, a staple side for kabobs, were nowhere to be seen.
A wave of love crashed into him, tender and impossibly powerful. He walked over to his mom and clutched her in a tight embrace.
“What is wrong, joonam?”she asked as she hugged him back.
“Nothing’s wrong, Mama. Just wanted to tell you I love you,” Jay responded.
She leaned away from the hug and narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
Jay couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m allowed to hug my mom without something being wrong, no?”
“Good. I love you too.” She squeezed one more time and let go, stacking containers of rice and meat into a paper bag and handing it to Jay.
Before leaving, Jay found his dad in the living room, busy studying the buttons on the stereo remote and comparing them with the manual. Despite Jay’s many offers, he preferred to learn new technology on his own, through trial and error. Mainly through error.
They hugged goodbye, and his dad lovingly kissed Jay’s cheeks and forehead, just as he did when Jay was a small boy.
The soft warmth of his parents’ house never failed to make Jay feel an innate sense of belonging and a tinge of melancholy.
He loved his family, and he longed for his own—for a partner to share his house, for children to fill it with chaos.
For an unassuming yet powerful love that lasted a lifetime.
* * *
“I brought Thai and burritos.” Jay lifted two bags with different restaurant logos. Aaron let out a small chuckle and gestured him inside the apartment.
“I figured we’d order together. Did you take a wild stab at what I might like?”
“I sure did. A few different things, and everything is vegetarian. I know you eat fish too, but I wasn’t sure about shrimp, so I played it safe.”
“Wow, you remembered.” Aaron seemed taken aback. “That’s really sweet of you. You don’t mind?”
Jay quirked an eyebrow at Aaron. “Why would I? It’s delicious either way.”
Aaron flashed Jay a brilliant smile that made his chest clench. He seemed far too grateful for such a small gesture. Had someone in his life actually complained about eating one meal without meat? Some people needed to broaden their palates.
“You can set the food over there. I’ll go grab some plates.” Aaron waved at the familiar coffee table in front of the couch and left the room.
Jay emptied the bags and arranged the containers next to a stack of books, sneaking a peek at the titles. Apparently, Aaron enjoyed science fiction.
As Aaron came back and started arranging plates and silverware, Jay stood back to admire the living room.
He’d already seen every piece of furniture at the store, but it was the other stuff that made it feel like Aaron’s place—the large abstract painting with colorful lines of varying widths intersecting in a strangely satisfying way, a hand-painted ukulele with bright orange palm trees, a purple fleece blanket hanging off the back of the couch.
Instead of being cold and minimalist, it was welcoming and cozy.
There was even a large fern sitting on a platform by the window.
“Is that real?” Jay pointed to it.
Aaron followed his gaze and gasped in mock offense. “Do I not seem like a real plant person? Of course it’s real.”
“It’s such an adult thing to have. Like the painting. It’s a few steps above movie posters or framed pictures.”
Aaron shook his head at Jay with a chuckle before cracking open a container of red curry and inhaling the rich aroma. “Oh, this smells amazing. One of my favorites. And we’re both adults, Jay. Aren’t you almost thirty?”
Butterflies fluttered through Jay’s stomach, so relieved that Aaron liked his choice. He had stared at the menu for fifteen minutes before ordering, trying to remember every conversation they’d ever had about food.
“Jay? You didn’t lie about your age, did you?” Aaron poked him in the shoulder.
“You got me. I’m just an innocent eighteen-year-old,” Jay deadpanned.
“And yeah, I know I’m an adult. I have a well-paying job.
I own a house. Well, the bank owns half of it, and my parents helped with the down payment, but only because they were the ones insisting I buy instead of renting.
But none of it feels like adulthood. I’m not getting sudden urges to buy plants or go to art galleries and purchase original art. ”
“That’s a ridiculous way of looking at adulthood.
People go their entire lives without owning plants.
It’s not a necessary life milestone.” Aaron waved dismissively and patted the seat next to him.
As Jay joined him on the couch, Aaron dipped a summer roll into the small container of peanut sauce and took a bite, moaning with pleasure.
“Oh, it’s so good! We should put peanut sauce on everything. ”