6. Nolan
6
NOLAN
I walked into my room and flopped down on my bed in a daze.
Home. I was going home next week. That was it.
It didn’t matter what the judges had just told me. It didn’t matter that my bakes had been technically competent. It wouldn’t even matter if viewers magically started liking me over the next seven days.
I was going home next week, whether I liked it or not.
I’d let my mom down.
As if thinking about her summoned her, my phone began to ring. I pulled it out of my pocket and stared at her picture on the screen, thinking about ignoring it. I didn’t want to tell her I was coming home next week. Didn’t want to admit that I’d failed.
But it might be important. With a sigh, I brought the phone to my cheek.
“Hey, you,” I said, trying to smile as I stared up at the ceiling. “What’s up?”
“Whoa, I didn’t expect you to actually answer.” My mom’s voice was a little muffled. “Sorry, I’m doing dishes. One sec.”
I heard a pot clang against the sink and then a whoosh that must have been the water turning off.
“Why did you call if you didn’t think I’d pick up?” I laughed.
“Do you want the real reason or a fake one?”
“Definitely a fake one. Why would I ask a question I wanted to know the answer to?”
My mom snorted. “I just meant that you’re not going to like the real answer.”
“Well, now you have to tell me.” I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “Is everything okay? Did something go wrong, do you need new meds, or—shit, did I forget a test or something?”
“Nolan, Nolan, calm down. You didn’t forget any tests. I’m fine, the chemo’s fine, everything’s fine. It’s still just a waiting game.”
She laughed softly. “It’s not about me. I called when I thought you’d be filming because I wanted to leave a message. I figured you’d evade or change the subject if I got you on the phone—which you’re already doing, so great job—but that if I left a message, your overwhelming sense of responsibility would force you to listen to it the whole way through, so I’d have a better chance of getting you to pay attention.”
“That is…”
“True?” my mom suggested. “Diabolical? Genius?”
“Definitely one of those things.”
“Or all three. So, do you want to know what I was going to say?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really, but I thought the illusion of choice might make you feel better.”
“I don’t think it works once you tell me that. But yeah, lay it on me.”
“I think that Aiden guy likes you.”
“You think—wait, what? That’s why you called?”
“Yeah! Well, that, and to tell you that I think you should take him up on—”
“Jesus, Mom.” I shook my head in wonder. “This whole time, I’ve been worrying there was something wrong that you just didn’t want to tell me—”
“I told you there was nothing wrong!”
“Yeah, but you also do that whole I’m so independent, the thought of leaning on other people makes me sick, so I hate admitting I have a problem thing. I thought you’d get around to explaining the real issue if I gave you enough time.”
“Who taught you to psychoanalyze your family this much?”
“Do you want the real answer to that?”
“Good point. No, I don’t think I do. Now, to get back to the topic at hand—”
“Must we?”
“That Aiden kid is cute , and I bet he’s only mean because you make him nervous. You can be intimidating sometimes, sweetie. But you did promise me you wouldn’t shut things down if you met someone you were interested in.”
“I promised you I’d think about it. But I’m not interested. So the point is moot.”
“Is it, really? Because I think, maybe, if you got to know him a bit better—”
“Mom, I’m gonna hang up on you if you don’t start talking about something else,” I threatened. “Literally anything other than Aiden Fucking Hastings.”
“You mean you don’t wanna talk about how he keeps sneaking glances at you whenever he thinks you’re not looking, and how adorable he is when he smiles, and how I think he really just wants your approval?”
“I mean it. I’m hanging up.”
“But he looked genuinely upset when he knocked your cake over, honey. And not for nothing, but those shorts he was wearing last episode? Can we just talk for a second about how nice they made his—”
“I love you, call me back if it’s important, goodbye.”
I hung up and collapsed back onto the bed, facedown this time so I could scream into a pillow. Aiden was the last thing I wanted to think about right now. Aiden was the reason I was going home next week. Aiden was—
“Hey, Nolan? Are you there?”
Aiden was at my door?
“Nolan, come on, open up. I need to talk to you.”
I didn’t move. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to talk about him, and I didn’t want to talk to him, and I wasn’t going to—
“Nolan, I swear to God, I will make a giant scene and make things even more embarrassing unless you open this door right—”
“What?” I said, springing off the bed and opening the door with a jerk. “What do you want?”
Aiden was standing so close to the door that he almost fell into my room when I yanked it open. His chest was heaving and he sounded out of breath. I took one look at those eyes of his, almost obnoxiously blue, and changed my mind.
“No.” I shut the door before he could speak.
Or tried to, anyway. But Aiden stuck his foot in against the frame, and I couldn’t actually close it without taking off a couple of his toes. I seriously considered it for a moment.
“I just need a minute,” he said.
“Pretty sure I’ve given you all the minutes I ever wanted to, and more.”
Just the sight of him set my heart pounding. In anger, obviously.
“Come on, Nolan. Please?”
“Please what?” I groaned. “Haven’t you done enough? Honestly, I’m not sure there’s anything left for you to mess up, but I don’t want to take my chances.”
I hated how out of control I felt around him, and hated that I didn’t know how to make it stop. And if I couldn’t make it stop, the only thing left to do was avoid him.
“Fuck, would you just listen to me for one second? Why do you never let me talk?”
Because every word out of your mouth drives me nuts . But I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I didn’t want to give Aiden the satisfaction of knowing he had any effect on me at all.
“Fine,” I said instead. “Talk.”
I kept my hand on the doorknob. Aiden swallowed. Good. Let him be uncomfortable for once.
“Okay.” He swallowed again, then nodded. “Right. Okay, yeah, I didn’t—I guess I didn’t actually expect you to say that.”
“Spit it out, Aiden.”
I felt guilty as soon as the words were out of my mouth. I knew what it was like to freeze up, to suddenly find yourself paralyzed, unable to think clearly, let alone speak. I was all too familiar with that feeling. But I didn’t want to empathize with him.
“I think we should pretend to like each other on the show,” he said. “For the cameras. I think if we do that, we have a decent chance of staying on after next week.”
I arched an eyebrow. That was what had him all breathless?
“Did you not listen to anything Nora said? They’ve made up their minds. They’re not going to change them just because you stop acting like an ass all the time.”
Aiden’s brow furrowed. “Well, I’d argue it’s you who has to stop being a dick, but that’s not actually what I meant. Give me a little credit.”
“Kid, I’m giving you far more credit than you deserve just by listening to you. And it’s still a terrible idea.”
“Okay, I don’t know where you get off making me out to be some terrible person, when you’re the one who’s been nothing but rude to me since the minute we met—”
“When you accused me of being homophobic? Or when you told me to stop salivating over your dick?”
“—But at the very least, could you not call me kid ? I’m twenty-one.”
“Sounds like a kid to me.”
“Right, because you’re so fucking mature at age twenty-eight, Grandpa. And last time I checked, you enjoyed that salivating, so I’m pretty sure—”
“Jesus, look at us,” I interrupted. Better than letting Aiden continue down that trail of thought. “We can’t have a civil conversation for five seconds. Even if pretending to like each other would work, I don’t think either of us could manage it for more than a minute, let alone an entire episode.”
Aiden snapped his lips shut, swallowing whatever he was going to say, and glared at me.
“See?” I told him. “I bet you’re biting your tongue right now, trying not to say some snippy reply. No one will believe that we’re friends.”
He rolled his eyes. “Lucky for you, that’s not what I was proposing. I meant that we should act like we like each other. You know, like, romantically. Or sexually. Or whatever.”
I stared at him in silence, waiting for the punchline.
“What?” Aiden said. “It could work.”
I laughed. I didn’t mean to. It just happened—this shaky little laugh that started on an exhale and, before I knew it, became a full-body laugh, making me clutch the doorframe to hold myself up.
“Are you serious?” I asked between gasps. “You think that’s the way to solve this? To pretend to be dating?”
“What’s so ridiculous about that?”
“Um, everything. But we can start with the fact that it’s not gonna change the outcome. If they want us gone, they’re going to send us home, regardless of what we do.”
“They can’t, though,” Aiden countered. “There’d be a public outcry. Don’t you remember last year?”
“I do. They found out one of their contestants was in a relationship off-screen , and they freaked out. How do you think they’re going to react if they think two of their bakers are hooking up while they’re on the show ?”
“A lot better than they did last year, if they want to avoid a repeat. Don’t you remember how big the fallout was? Advertisers pulled their support, the network head had to make a statement, the old judges had to do a whole apology tour. I mean, come on. They cast us for a reason.”
“Yeah, to get their diversity points, and then to send us home without ever giving us a chance to win. Which is insane, anyway, because I never once mentioned that I was bi, and I didn’t even want people to know, but—”
“Whatever, dude. It happened. And we can use that to our advantage. If they can play dirty, so can we. Think about this from a PR perspective. If we were filmed, I don’t know, holding hands or something, and then suddenly one or both of us was sent home? Just imagine the backlash.”
I sighed. “They could just say it was how the votes fell out. I’m not likeable, remember? And you can’t bake, unless something’s changed in the past three days.”
“Yeah, but that’s us on our own. Together? As a team? People are already talking about us online, and that’s just when they think we hate each other. Imagine how much more they’d talk if they thought we were a couple. The network would be insane to let us go if we were driving their numbers up.”
“Who would even believe it? We’ve done nothing but fight since the show started.”
“So? Opposites attract! Some people fight instead of flirt. Maybe things just moved crazy fast for us, and now we’re in love.”
I shook my head. “No one’s gonna buy that.”
“Nolan, you’re giving people way too much credit. How many times has some well-meaning straight person in your life tried to set you up with someone you had nothing in common with, just because you shared a sexual orientation?”
I couldn’t help thinking of the phone call I’d just had with my mom. It wasn’t exactly the same thing, but still, I didn’t like how close to home Aiden’s words hit.
“Trust me.” He leaned forward, bracing his hand just below mine on the doorframe. “People will buy it.”
“It still feels wrong. Like we think we’re better than viewers, trying to trick them into something.”
“It’s not thinking we’re better than them. It’s just—people want to believe in happy endings. What’s wrong with giving them one?”
“Because it wouldn’t be. It would be a lie.”
“But it’s not hurting anyone. Is it so wrong to give people something to root for?”
Aiden’s eyes were shining. How had we gotten so close? He was only inches from me—near enough that I could smell his tangerine-y shampoo and feel the heat coming off his body.
Near enough that I could remember what his skin felt like against mine.
I took a step back. Shook my head. I had to keep it together.
It didn’t matter what my mom thought. It didn’t even matter if it would help me stay on the show. Every second I spent in Aiden’s company pushed me closer to losing control. And that was something I couldn’t risk.
“I’m sorry.” I pushed the door closed. “The answer is no.”
“Alright, everyone, we’re going to split you up now and get shots of you doing research for your pie challenge,” Tanner explained as we stood outside Adair’s quaint public library later that afternoon. It had been a hot and sweaty walk through town to get here, and I hoped they’d let us into the air conditioning soon.
“They’ve only got three computers here, so Miriam, Lucinda, and Omar, you’ll take those. Cadence and Wade, we’ll have you looking up vegan cooking. Aisha and Nolan, you’ll be looking up heirloom fruit and vegetables, and Aiden, we have you on historical pie-baking methods. Nora’s got everyone’s assignments written up—just find the books using the call numbers she gives you and be ready to talk about them on camera. Sound good?”
Tanner smiled at the group of us, clearly expecting assent, and sighed when Wade raised his hand.
“Yes, Wade, what is it?”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on making a vegan pie,” Wade said, scratching his beard. “So if I have to spend all my time looking up something I don’t need—”
“Wade, Wade.” Tanner shook his head, his smile growing condescending. He sounded like he was talking to a seven-year-old. “You’ll have plenty of time to pick your actual recipe and practice your bake tomorrow. This is just for the cameras. Don’t worry so much, okay? Now, they only cleared the library for us for two hours, so we need to get everything we can in—yes, Aiden? What is it?”
I turned, on edge. Aiden couldn’t actually mess anything up for me right now, but every time he opened his mouth, I found myself bracing for impact.
It didn’t help that my cock was still far too interested in Aiden. He was wearing another tight T-shirt today, and my mom—I shuddered to admit—was right about the way his ass looked in just about anything. He was wearing jeans today that fit him like a second skin. He looked good, and the fact that he knew it did nothing to dampen my interest in him.
Correction—my body’s interest. The rest of me couldn’t have cared less.
“Do we have to look up the books we were assigned?” Aiden asked.
Tanner sighed. “As I just explained to Wade—”
“No, no, I get that,” Aiden said. “We can look up our real recipes later. I just meant like, while we’re filming in there, what if we found other books we wanted to talk about instead?”
“Because you’re such a bookworm?” Tanner said, arching an eyebrow. Aiden flushed. “I know you’re not great at following directions, but just try for us this once, buddy, alright? It’ll help keep things moving. Now let’s get in there.”
Tanner turned and moved to the library doors before Aiden had a chance to respond, and the rest of the contestants flowed forward—I think everyone was eager to get out of the heat.
I couldn’t help noticing the way Aiden’s lips tightened in response to Tanner’s words, or how he looked down at his shoes, though I wished I could. What did I care if Tanner was a dick to him? It was good for Aiden to get a taste of his own medicine, wasn’t it?
The slip of paper Nora handed me had call numbers for a book about edible flowers and another one on the genetic history of the apple. They were easy enough to find, but the roving camera teams all seemed to be focused on other bakers, so I leaned back against a bookcase and began flipping through them.
I’d only gotten a few pages into the apple book when I heard Nora’s voice drifting out of the stacks a couple of aisles over.
“So, what is it you’re researching today, Aiden?” she asked. She had to be prompting him for the camera, considering that she’d handed us our assignments herself.
“Oh, you know. Books. Baking. That sorta thing.” Aiden’s voice was lilting, and he gave what he must have thought was a cute little laugh. It annoyed me that it was cute—from two aisles away, at least, where I didn’t have to see his face.
“So not like, carpentry or the history of baseball?” Nora said.
“Well, not right now, but hey, if we have a challenge next week that requires building our own little ovens and then baking things inside of them, I’m down to research that too. I love learning about nailing things. Screwing them. Anything that can take a pounding, you know?”
I rolled my eyes but pushed off the bookcase I’d been leaning on and walked in the direction of their voices. Well, Aiden’s voice and Nora’s laugh—I could hear her snickering from here.
“Now, if it were baseball we were talking about,” Aiden was saying when I reached the end of his row, “I wouldn’t even need to do research. I know all about sports, and balls. Pitching. Catching. Really kind of an expert at catching. Could probably write a book on it.”
I heard Em’s laugh join Nora’s. He must have been the camera person shooting this segment. Nora scolded him quietly.
“Em, come on. We can’t use any of this if you don’t keep the camera straight.”
“We can’t use any of it anyway,” Em said, still chuckling. “Are you listening to him?”
“I do my best,” Aiden said.
I was doing my best to stay out of sight of the camera, but I could just picture him grinning and giving a little curtsy when he said that.
“Whew, okay. Deep breath. We are professionals, doing a professional job, like the professional people we are,” Nora said. “Alright, Aiden, let’s try this again. Tell us about the books you’re looking for. What do you have in your hand there?”
“What don’t I have in my hand?” Aiden said. “I’m an expert at holding things too, not just catching. I can stroke. Caress. You name it. Make sure viewers at home know that as well.”
I couldn’t help myself—I peeked around the corner to see Aiden wiggle his eyebrows at the camera. Em’s shoulders shook silently.
“Aiden, come on,” Nora begged. “Just tell us the books you’re looking for so we can wrap this up. We have to film other people too.”
“See for yourself, if you’re so interested,” Aiden said, holding his piece of paper out in front of him. “Fascinating, aren’t they?”
“Whoa, whoa, hold on. I have to refocus,” Em said, but Nora shook her head.
“Forget refocusing, there’s nothing on there but numbers. Aiden, for the love of God, will you just find the books you were assigned and act like you want to read them? Please?”
“But how could I pick just one or two books from this glorious section on baking,” Aiden said, gesturing at both sides of the stacks surrounding him. That was a little inaccurate, since the left side of the aisle was actually about hobbies and crafts, but since when did Aiden care about accuracy?
“Uh, you could start with the ones on your paper,” Nora said.
“Ugh, so boring. But if you insist.” Aiden rolled his eyes dramatically, then looked down at his paper.
He stared at it for a few seconds, his lips moving silently. It was the quietest I’d ever seen him. His head was tilted down, but I saw him bite his lip. Finally, he looked up.
“Honestly, I don’t think I want to read any of these. Maybe I’ll just pick something different, like…” He trailed off and pulled a random book off the shelf to his left. “Ooh, this one appears to be about…sewing? Making teddy bears?”
“Aiden, I am begging you—” Nora began, but I was already walking down the aisle towards them.
I wasn’t sure why I was doing this, or what I was doing exactly. There was just something about the way Aiden had looked at that piece of paper, the way he’d bitten his lip. The next thing I knew, I was standing next to him, pulling the paper out of his hands.
“Well, I can’t say I blame you.” I threw a smile over my shoulder to Em. “Not the most fascinating books, but look. This one is about shaping free-form pies.” I plucked the first book from Aiden’s list off the shelf and handed it to him. “Just think, you could combine it with that sewing book and make a pie in the shape of a teddy bear.”
Aiden was staring at me, open-mouthed, when I finally looked over at him. He recovered quickly, though, giving me and the camera a grin.
“I do love bears, you know. The bigger and furrier, the better.”
I snorted. “Why am I not surprised to hear you say that?”
“Are you a fan of bears, Nolan?” Aiden asked, his tone way too innocent. “Or are you more into other animals—otters perhaps, or other wildlife?”
“I’m a fan of any animal that knows how to keep its mouth shut for five seconds.”
“Oh, but that’s so boring. There are so many wonderful things we can do with our mouths,” Aiden said with a laugh.
I turned and gave the camera a long, flat look, which only made him laugh harder.
“If you could get your mind out of the gutter for two seconds,” I said, looking back at the list of call numbers, “maybe we can find your second book. If we’re lucky, it’ll be on something you can’t make an innuendo about…”
“Oh, Nolan, do you have such little faith in me? I can turn anything into a double-entendre. Or a triple one. Do you like things that come in threes, Nolan? A little threesome fun for you?”
His laughter followed me down the aisle.
We finished filming at the library surprisingly quickly, but my interaction with Aiden lingered in my head all afternoon.
Why had I helped him? It couldn’t be because I felt sorry for him. I refused to let that be the case.
I could just imagine how Aiden would react if he thought I felt sorry for him, too. He’d throw a fit, for sure. Honestly, that might make it worth it.
I wasn’t even sure I’d helped, exactly. Maybe Aiden had just been fucking around in that interview segment for fun. Maybe he would have eventually pulled out the books he’d been assigned and talked about them like a normal person if I hadn’t burst in.
But I didn’t think so.
His face wouldn’t leave my mind. The hint of panic in his eyes. The way his brow had furrowed as he’d sounded out the numbers on his paper. Even the wounded pride that had painted his features when Tanner had snapped at him on the sidewalk. I wasn’t sure what was wrong, but it was clear something was.
The thing I really couldn’t understand was how easy it had been to talk on camera when I’d been focused on Aiden. The past couple of weeks, I’d been a bundle of nerves every time I knew I was being filmed. But talking with Aiden, that anxiety had faded to a muted buzz.
It didn’t make sense.
We weren’t going to be filming our practice bakes until tomorrow, but there was no rule saying I couldn’t spend time in the tent this afternoon. Maybe if I focused enough on my work, I could drive Aiden out of my head once and for all. It was better than sitting around and dwelling on the fact that I was going home.
The tent had a lonesome quality to it, standing empty. Like walking through an elementary school in the middle of summer. My eyes lingered on Aiden’s workstation. Maybe my actions at the library were just an attempt to work out my guilt for snapping at him on Monday?
I traced my hand over the smooth wooden counter of my own workstation. Only six more days until I went home. Six more days until I disappointed my mom. Maybe I should tell her that Aiden and I had hooked up. Kind of, anyway. Maybe that would soften the blow.
The tent flap opened behind me. I looked over my shoulder and froze. It was Aiden. Of course it was Aiden. I couldn’t get away from him.
I was still trying to figure out what to say when he walked up and poked me in the chest.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked, his eyes blazing.
I took a step back. “What was what ?”
He followed me, poking my sternum again. “At the library. What the hell do you think you were doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Like hell you don’t. You were nice to me back there. When you didn’t have to be. When I didn’t even ask you to be. What gives?”
“Jesus, it wasn’t that big a deal,” I muttered, trying to step around him.
“Considering you can barely look me in the eye, let alone say more than three words whenever you’re on camera, I’d say it’s a pretty fucking big deal.” Aiden stepped to the side, bringing himself right back in front of me. “I want to know what your angle is.”
“Angle? There’s no angle. I just helped you find some books.”
“Yeah, and only hours before that, you thought the idea of us being nice to each other was laughable. So what the fuck? Did Tanner tell you to do it? Did he say he’d keep you here if you—”
“God, no. Tanner had nothing to do with anything. Why would he be involved?”
“Because he—it’s not important.” Aiden tossed his head and poked me again. I took another step back. We were practically doing the tango at this point. “Just answer me.”
“I don’t know, okay?” I threw up my hands. I felt antsy, and I desperately wanted out of this tent. “I don’t fucking know. What I do know is that I’m beginning to regret it, given your reaction.”
“Bullshit. That’s not a reason.”
“You seemed like you could use the help, alright? I won’t say I expected a thank you, but I don’t need the third degree.”
“And I don’t need your help!” Aiden shot back. “I was doing just fine.”
“Yeah, clearly. You had no trouble reading what was on that paper. You were just stalling for the fun of it.”
“Maybe I was.” His eyes narrowed. “Were you trying to make me feel like I was in your debt? Or hoping if you looked really nice all of a sudden that the network would change its mind and only send me home?”
“Seriously? Is everything a strategy with you? I was just trying to help. It’s not my fault you’re too vain to wear glasses on camera. But next time, I won’t bother.”
“I don’t need glasses,” Aiden snapped. “And I’m not vain.”
“You’re not?” I looked him up and down, and he flushed. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like what you see.”
He took a step forward, and I took another one back, only to find myself pressed against my workstation. His body was inches from mine. How the hell did we keep ending up like this? And why the hell couldn’t my body get the message that this was exactly the opposite of where I wanted to be?
Forget antsy. I felt electric, my heart thumping so hard Aiden should have been able to hear it too. Why did he short-circuit my brain so much?
I took hold of his shoulders, intending to move him to the side and walk around him. But as soon as I felt his body underneath my hands, I forgot what I was trying to do. All I knew was how hot his skin felt, even through his T-shirt, and how badly I wanted to feel it with nothing between us at all.
Aiden smiled, slow and sly, and his eyes took on a mischievous glint. It wasn’t fair. He knew the effect he had on me. He’d known since the moment I’d first walked in on him on that ferry.
“Tell me you don’t like it,” he said.
His eyes dared me to. But when I opened my mouth to speak, my tongue was clumsy and slow. I couldn’t even figure out what I wanted to say, much less how to say it.
“Tell me you don’t want it.” He licked his lower lip, and I swear the ground dropped away beneath me.
“I—I—” I couldn’t make my mouth work. I slid my hands onto his chest. I meant to push him away but found myself grabbing his shirt instead.
“Tell me to stop, and I will.” He stood up on his tiptoes and brought his lips to my neck, brushing a soft kiss across my Adam’s apple.
He pulled back just far enough to look me in the face. Who had given him permission to have eyes so blue?
“Tell me to leave, and—”
I kissed him before he could finish speaking. I didn’t need to hear the end of his sentence. Didn’t want to hear it.
All I wanted was him.