Chapter Thirteen #3
Xander’s eyes opened and Wyatt realized how weary he looked. There was no shift you took at Terroir where you didn’t feel exhausted by the end, but this was an emotional weariness and a clear concern that got Wyatt’s stomach churning.
“Kian,” Xander said simply.
“Callie and Nico both warned me he was in a mood today,” Wyatt said. “I hoped that it didn’t have anything to do with Kian.”
“Do you remember when someone sent overcooked branzino to the governor?”
Wyatt remembered. They’d all walked on eggshells for at least a week, everyone terrified to provoke Aquino into another angry explosion.
His ears had rung for at least a day from the blistering lecture they’d all been given, even though at best they’d all been tangentially involved in the branzino incident.
The culprit, of course, had been summarily fired, after a rant that promised he’d never again work in food service in California.
As far as Wyatt knew, that had held, and the guy wasn’t even able to get a job at McDonald’s, working the fryer.
“It would be hard to forget.”
“This was . . . minor in comparison. Except,” Xander said, taking a shuddering breath, “it was all on Kian. The Bastard found out he’d gotten you tickets. I guess he felt it was a betrayal.”
Wyatt was speechless. He’d expected Kian to get a minor lecture for the infraction, if it could even be termed that. He’d never imagined that Kian would bear the brunt of Aquino’s temper.
“It wouldn’t have been so bad,” Xander continued, “except that Kian didn’t just stand there and take it.
He dished it right back. I guess that’s maybe why it didn’t touch the rest of us.
Chef was too busy trying to contain Kian, and then too busy weeping in his arms about how Kian doesn’t care about him after all. ”
“What?” That seemed both improbable and impossible. Chef didn’t have personal feelings. Everything was directed to and from the professional side. It was never a personal betrayal—only a professional one, and according to Aquino, that was always worse.
Wyatt didn’t personally agree, but then he’d never had the balls to tell him that before. Kian apparently had.
“Kian started to let him have it, telling him he was being unreasonable and mean, and it was all so true and so pointed, and I couldn’t help but think he’d been listening to both of us too long.
Mostly me, because it was all there in the delivery, which probably could have given industrial-grade acid a run for its money.
But Aquino didn’t take that lying down, so he started screaming back.
Then suddenly . . . Kian said one sentence, and he stopped yelling, so we couldn’t hear it.
But Aquino shut right up, and we all heard him beg Kian not to leave. ”
“I don’t understand,” Wyatt said. “He begged him not to leave? Bastian Aquino begged him not to leave?”
“Exactly,” Xander said. “Worst day ever.”
“I’m failing to see how this is bad for Kian. It clearly means he’s got a hold on Aquino, and frankly it’s terrifying, but maybe Kian can handle it.”
“Kian can’t handle it,” Xander growled. He started pacing back and forth.
“All this means is that they’ve got a terrible hold on each other.
If Aquino had yelled at him and then fired him, then he would’ve been hurt, devastated probably, but he would’ve gotten over it eventually.
Found a new job, fallen in love with someone more appropriate.
But all this proves is that Aquino feels the same, and if Kian figures this out, he’s never going to get out while he still can. ”
Wyatt hadn’t thought of it that way before. But then he remembered what Kian had said the other night, about it being worth it, no matter the cost.
“I don’t think he’s going to get out. No matter what, he’s not going to,” Wyatt said slowly. “I think it’s time to let it go, Xander.”
Xander threw up his hands in frustration. “Would you have stopped that chef from overcooking his branzino and saved his career if you’d been able to?”
“Of course I would have,” Wyatt said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know I would have. But this is different. This is personal, not professional, and they’re already halfway in it. You can’t stop it now. All you can do is support him, now, and if it goes bad.”
“Not if, when,” Xander predicted darkly.
Wyatt knew better than to ask why Xander was so convinced it was going to end badly. He wouldn’t get an answer. Not a real one, anyway. Xander kept all those feelings locked up tight—except for the little that escaped when he worried about someone he cared about.
“That’s all we can do,” Wyatt repeated.
The door next to them opened, and Xander jumped, which proved how worked up he was. But it was just one of the bartenders from upstairs. Nico, in fact.
Wyatt was the one who froze when he saw who it was. “Oh, Wyatt,” he said. “I think they’re about finished upstairs.”
“I know, I was just checking in with Xander,” Wyatt said.
“I’ve got to go back in,” Xander muttered, and shouldered his way through the door without even saying goodbye. Which was to be expected in Xander World, even when he wasn’t in a bad mood. And he was in a terrible mood.
“So,” Nico said slyly, not leaving, and filling Wyatt with foreboding. He remembered what Tony had said about him, and wished that he could forget. “I heard you’re here with Ryan Flores.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said, hoping that a short answer would keep Nico from continuing the conversation. But Nico wanted to talk, and nothing was going to stop him.
“And that you’re living with him.”
“I’m his personal chef,” Wyatt inserted.
“Yeah.” Nico sounded like he hadn’t bought that for a second. “I know all about his arrangements.”
“I’m not stupid enough to think I’m the first guy he’s been with,” Wyatt defended.
“Possibly,” Nico said. “But he’s never gonna stay with one guy. He’s not built that way. He likes it all kinds of ways, with all kinds of guys. Likes to keep it exciting.”
That sounded like Ryan, the adrenaline junkie, and even though Wyatt had always loved that part of his personality, suddenly he wasn’t entirely sure.
“There’s no crime in enjoying sex,” Wyatt said shortly.
But Nico was determined to torpedo everything—or do something, Wyatt still wasn’t sure. Was he jealous? Was he hoping that if he got Wyatt to leave, his hookups with Ryan might continue? Wyatt didn’t know. All he knew was that Nico kept fucking talking and wouldn’t stop.
“Just . . . lower your expectations,” Nico counseled. “Actually, scratch that. Obliterate your expectations. Because he’s never going to let you have any.”
That didn’t sound like the Ryan that Wyatt had come to know. At least most of the time. He couldn’t help but think of the few awkward instances that Wyatt had desperately tried to write off as growing pains with a new very public relationship.
But maybe it was more. Wyatt cursed Nico for getting into his head, when that was the very thing that he’d clearly set out to do.
“I’ll take that under consideration,” Wyatt said. “And I’ve got to go. Thanks for the advice, I guess.”
“You’ve been quiet,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, I can’t imagine why,” Wyatt grumbled. “I’m only preparing to throw myself out of an airplane.”
“But you’re going to be with me,” Ryan said, as the plane taxied towards the runway. “It’s all gonna be good.”
“I guess I should be happy you settle for skydiving and aren’t into BASE jumping,” Wyatt said. The truth was Nico’s confessions had him worked up far more than the possibility of launching himself out of an airplane with only a parachute to stand between him and death.
“Oh, I’ve tried that too,” Ryan said. “But I like myself in one solid piece, thank you very much, and management didn’t like it when they found out.
I guess it made them think I was a bad investment.
They aren’t exactly wild about the skydiving either, to be honest. Or my collection of fast cars.
They called Eric in and yelled at him for half an hour over the Maserati I bought at the end of the season. ”
“Gee, I can’t imagine why.”
“I know it’s stupid, but it’s an addiction,” Ryan said, with a helpless little shrug that Wyatt found adorable, even when he didn’t want to.
It wasn’t Ryan’s fault that Nico existed.
It wasn’t Ryan’s fault that Nico had decided to give him unsolicited advice.
It definitely wasn’t Ryan’s fault that Wyatt had listened despite all his intentions not to.
But despite all those things that Wyatt knew to be true, it was impossible not to feel a little frustrated. Maybe even a little angry.
If Ryan hadn’t been so awkward about their relationship today, Wyatt knew he wouldn’t have listened to Nico. How was it that Ryan could be perfectly normal and perfect boyfriend material except when he was trying to prove he was Wyatt’s boyfriend?
It made no sense, and Wyatt liked things to make sense.
The culinary arts were full of irrefutable facts, and there was a comforting certainty in the kitchen.
At first, when Ryan had been so determined that his boyfriend had to be Wyatt, it had been easy to believe that he’d meant more than just a random guy he’d picked to play a lover.
Now, Wyatt couldn’t be sure. And yet, he was allowing himself to be strapped to him anyway, doubt be damned.
“What other crazy things have you done?” Wyatt asked, because hearing how many ways Ryan had conspired to kill himself was somehow easier than wallowing in his own confusion.
“Besides BASE jumping? Last year I was trying to get my wingsuit certification, but I got busy and had to let it go. I actually like it better than BASE jumping, because it’s a longer flight, more like flying.”
“Is it just shit in the air?” Wyatt asked.
The airplane engine revved up and they started down the runway. “I love this part, so maybe it is just shit in the air?” Ryan said.
“Taking off?”
“It’s the anticipation in the air,” Ryan said with relish. “Knowing I’m going to choose to jump out of this plane.”
Wyatt shook his head. “I think I’ll stick with surfing.”
“Have you gone deep-sea diving? That’s pretty wild, too. Totally different vibe, but still gets the blood pumping.”
“Do you swim with sharks too?” Wyatt asked sarcastically.
“Once,” Ryan said with a grin. Wyatt regretted asking.
“Don’t worry, I’ll try to contain your life-threatening activities to waking me up in the morning and this skydive,” Ryan said, and Wyatt wanted to find him as endearing as he had only this morning.
It wasn’t that he loved him any less, it was that he doubted him more.
Right about now he wished he could push Nico out of the plane.
“I appreciate that,” Wyatt retorted dryly. “Now go over the steps again, please.”
“Again?”
“I’m a chef, I like to be prepared,” Wyatt said.
“Okay, it’s gonna be great, I promise. When we get close to altitude, I’ll hook us together.
You’ll be attached to my front.” Ryan paused, and Wyatt realized that he was waiting for him to make a sexual joke.
“Okay, maybe not your favorite place to be after all,” he teased.
“Anyway, when we reach altitude, we’ll inch our way to the door, and then I’ll push us off. ”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Wyatt said. The plane was flying higher and higher, and it was impossible not to look out the window and see the fields of Napa getting smaller and smaller beneath them.
“It’ll be about a minute of free fall,” Ryan continued, “and then I’ll pull the parachute.”
“And there’s a backup, right?”
“Of course there is,” Ryan retorted. “I told you not to worry. This is safe. I mean, not safe, because we are jumping out of a plane, but as safe as that gets. You remember the landing I told you about?”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said. They’d practiced it a few times on land. Speaking of land, he was really wishing he was back on it. He eyed the toy-sized trees with trepidation.
“We’re about to altitude,” the pilot said over the intercom. “We’ll open the door shortly.”
“Just take a breath,” Ryan counseled as he began to hook them together. “Maybe a few breaths. It’s gonna be great.”
“If you say that one more time,” Wyatt hissed.
The door opened, and Ryan didn’t have another chance to say it again, because suddenly they were at the edge of the plane, and then they weren’t in the plane at all.
The wind rushed past Wyatt’s ears as they free-fell in the deep-blue sky. He could feel Ryan’s excitement even though he couldn’t see his face. As for himself? It wasn’t . . . terrible he decided as they continued to fall, the ground rushing closer and closer.
It was even sort of a pleasant rush. Kind of like when Ryan had climbed on the back of his bike. When he climbed on the back of Ryan’s. A feeling of putting yourself in someone else’s hands with the hope that you’d be safe.
After today, Wyatt didn’t know for sure if he was still safe in Ryan’s hands. But he loved him enough that he couldn’t just pull away. His whole body jolted suddenly, and he realized that Ryan had pulled the parachute.
After a few minutes of coasting to the ground, they landed, legs getting a bit tangled, and they fell to a heap on the ground before Ryan could unclip them. Wyatt pulled his helmet off and took one deep breath, and then another. He didn’t think he’d get his breath back so quickly.
Ryan finally unclipped them, and Wyatt did the only thing he’d wanted since they’d jumped out of an airplane—he leaned down, yanked his helmet off, and kissed him. Ryan tasted like air and sky and fresh air, and his breath was coming in short, breathless pants as he pulled back.
“You loved it, didn’t you?” Ryan grinned, eyes glittering from the adrenaline rush. “I knew you would.”
I love you.
Wyatt shrugged, faking nonchalance, and Ryan stared at him for a moment, then tackled him to the ground, hovering above him for a split second before covering Wyatt’s mouth with his own.