Chapter 34
JAY
A shriek pierced the air, followed by the sound of bodies hitting the water. A few seconds later, droplets landed on Jay’s face and chest. He didn’t even flinch this time. After ten minutes of sitting at the edge of the pool and watching his nephews discover the joy of cannonballs, he was immune.
“Pool duty?”
He squinted up at Jasmine, bright sun stinging his eyes even behind the sunglasses. “Only for another couple of minutes. I feel bad leaving Aaron on his own.”
She sat on the ledge next to him, lowering her legs into the cool water. “He’s not exactly on his own. Mom hasn’t left his side since he showed up.”
Jay scoffed. “She’s just excited I finally brought someone over.”
His mom’s face had lit up with joy when Aaron appeared on the doorstep, holding Jay’s hand and presenting her with a fruit platter. He’d insisted they couldn’t show up empty-handed, stopping at the supermarket to buy the largest assortment of fruit Jay had ever seen.
His family’s close attention should have weirded Aaron out, but he’d been perfect—polite and respectful to his parents, joking around with his sisters, even joining the boys for a quick game of tag around the backyard.
“We’re all excited,” Jasmine said softly. “I’m glad you finally got your head out of your ass and asked him out.”
Jay wanted to do more than that. He’d been on the verge of telling Aaron exactly how he felt last night, but it was too soon. They’d only known each other for a couple of months. No one in their right mind would drop the L-bomb only hours after officially asking someone out.
It had taken every bit of self-restraint to stay silent.
“Who wants food?” Paul yelled from the grill, waving his spatula in the air. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and char, and Jay’s stomach growled. After making sure the boys were safely out of the pool, he headed straight for Aaron, who gave him a cheerful smile.
“Hungry?” Jay asked.
“It smells amazing.” Aaron’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Should I have brought something I can eat? I’m not sure there’s—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jay snaked his arm around Aaron and squeezed him closer. “You’ll have plenty to choose from.” He’d made sure of it. As soon as Aaron had agreed to come, Jay texted Layla to let her know, and she’d promised to send Paul shopping in the morning.
Paul had taken his job seriously. When they reached him, paper plates in hand, he excitedly pointed to the grill. “This is my vegetarian corner! I got a soy burger, a bean burger, and Satan hot dogs.”
“Oh, wow,” Aaron murmured, clearly overwhelmed by Paul’s exuberance. “This is so thoughtful. I don’t usually get options.”
“We got you, my dude.” Paul grabbed the plate out of his hand and loaded it up with more food than Aaron could possibly eat before doing the same with Jay’s. They thanked him and drifted to an open table.
Jay examined the contents of Aaron’s plate with interest. “I’m curious about these Satanic hot dogs.”
Aaron laughed. “Seitan is a meat alternative. Like soy, but it’s made out of wheat. I’m pretty sure there’s no devil worshipping involved.” He dabbed a drop of mustard on top of one before offering it to Jay.
“How disappointing.” Jay smirked and bit into it, moaning at the explosion of flavors on his tongue—the rich, earthy taste of the hot dog and the sharp tang of mustard. “So good. You could say it’s heavenly.”
Aaron swatted at him playfully. “No puns, please.”
They’d eaten almost everything on their plates when Aaron’s phone dinged three times in a row. He glanced at the screen and sighed.
“Work?” Jay asked.
“Worse. Mark needs help with our grill. I say our, but I don’t think he’s ever touched it before today.” Aaron pushed back from the table and gestured toward the house. “I’m gonna call him and walk him through it. If I try to explain it over text, this will take hours.”
Jay nodded and wished him luck. He could easily imagine Mark hovering nervously over an unfamiliar appliance, poking at the knobs and dials in frustration. Of course he called Aaron for help. Who wouldn’t? The man was too competent for his own good.
It was getting hotter, and the loungers hiding in the shade called his name.
Jay crossed the backyard and settled onto the worn cushions with his phone in hand.
He texted Aaron his new location and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
After checking the news and social media, he navigated to his guilty pleasure—the Kink Talk chatroom.
He’d originally joined out of desperation for someone to talk to about his doubts and hang-ups, but over the past few months, it had become a safe place for him to spill the secrets he couldn’t share with anybody else.
The random strangers offering support, cracking jokes, and lamenting their own issues were now his friends. His community.
Despite finding Aaron and slowly coming to terms with his own brand of dominance, Jay had no plans to stop visiting.
Skimming through the conversations he’d missed, his gaze traveled down the page until something snagged his attention. His vision blurred, and a viselike grip squeezed his rib cage as he stared at a very familiar thumbnail.
Jay had seen this picture more times than he could count. He knew every pixel, every burst of color, every knot and fiber of the rope wrapped around Aaron’s smooth skin. He could identify it anywhere.
And right now, it was in his chatroom.
A rush of panic flooded his mind, fracturing his focus and making it impossible to think. Had someone stolen the photo or found it online? It didn’t make any sense. It was meaningful to Jay, but objectively, the internet offered much better pictures.
Maybe someone found out who Jay was, and they were taunting him? That didn’t make much sense either. He’d never shared any identifying information, and even if he had, what was the endgame?
He scrolled higher, slowing down to read. DomOliver discovered puppy play, SubZero bought some fancy restraints, DomAndDommer went on another date that didn’t pan out—the usual banter—and then DomPetty pointed out SubAir’s new profile picture.
SubAir.
Jay’s breath whooshed out of his lungs, and he forced himself to breathe.
Air. Aaron.
His Aaron.
As he struggled with this discovery, another realization hit him square in the chest—SubAir had just posted about falling in love with his Dom.
With his friends-with-benefits Dom.
With Jay.
Aaron was in love with Jay.
Holy shit.
“That was brutal.” Aaron dropped into the other lounger. “He was scared of being close to the fire. I had to ask him to give the phone to Rachel.”
Jay needed time. To wrap his head around this new information. To go back and read everything Aaron had ever said about him. To figure out whether Aaron had actually meant that he loved Jay or if it was just hyperbole, a figure of speech.
To understand what this could mean for the two of them.
His heart warmed as he looked at the adorable frown creasing Aaron’s forehead—a remnant of his frustration with the phone call. Mark was a grown man, and Aaron didn’t owe him anything, and yet he’d always pick up the phone to help.
That was just the kind of person he was.
“I love you,” Jay blurted out.
Aaron's frown smoothed, replaced by a look of bewilderment and something else. Something hopeful. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but nothing came out as he gaped at Jay.
Jay shouldn’t have been so impulsive. The words had slipped out against his better judgment, but now that they were out, he wasn't sorry. He only wished he'd picked a better spot to confess his love than his nosy sister’s barbecue.
It could have been much worse. At least the loungers were tucked away in the corner of the yard, away from everyone. If they’d been within Layla's or Jasmine's hearing distance, he'd never hear the end of it.
That didn't help him now. He needed to explain himself, and someone could interrupt at any moment. He cast his glance around the party to make sure no one was looking in their direction and got to his feet, grabbing Aaron's hand to pull him around the corner of the house.
Paul had clearly missed a spot mowing the lawn. Unlike the manicured grass of the rest of the backyard, the side yard was a jungle, with grass and weeds standing knee-high. It seemed too late to turn back, so Jay waded in.
Aaron followed without a comment, running into Jay's back when he stopped.
Suddenly, they were face-to-face. Aaron tilted his head, confusion clear in his voice. “Jay?”
“I probably should have picked a more romantic spot, but it's a bit late for that now.” Jay chuckled. “I guess I couldn't wait.”
“I don't know what's happening,” Aaron whispered. “Why are we in the scariest part of your sister's yard?”
“Because I don't want an audience.”
Aaron leaned against the side of the house, his gaze steady on Jay, waiting for him to continue.
This was it. A huge success or a giant failure. A love connection or a breakup. A yes or a no.
“I promise, this is not how I meant to tell you. I’ve actually wanted to say it for a while, but I thought it was too soon. I didn’t want to scare you off.”
Aaron pressed his lips together, as if to keep himself from speaking.
At any other point in his life, under any other circumstance, Jay would trail off and stop talking. He would run out of confidence and backpedal, desperately clinging to whatever status quo was on offer.
But not with Aaron. Not in the middle of baring his heart.
“I love you, Aaron. And maybe I only got the courage to say it because you said it first, but even if you were exaggerating, I stand behind it. You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met.
The sexiest, kindest, most competent human being.
I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I’m so glad I waited for you. ”