Rebel Hearts

9. Aiden

9

AIDEN

“ S o, Aiden, it seems like you and Nolan are getting along a little better,” Nora said on Monday of the fourth week of A Piece of Cake . “What changed?”

We were filming my confessional segment after completing the day’s bake—a tray of three types of petit fours that I’d managed to make mostly edible. Two-thirds of the tray, anyway.

“ Are we getting along better?” I made myself flush.

It wasn’t that hard. All I had to do was remember the last time I’d been alone with Nolan, and I turned beet red. Not from embarrassment exactly, or if it was embarrassment, it was mixed with a healthy dose of desire.

Mostly, I still couldn’t believe the way Nolan had bossed me around—and how much I’d liked it. It would be just perfect if I actually did develop a Daddy kink, focused on the one guy who couldn’t stand me.

“It certainly seems like it,” Nora pressed. “What do you think, are you growing on him?”

“I don’t know if I’m growing on him. Maybe I’m just wearing him down. You can only tell someone they’re an idiot so many times before your mouth gets tired, you know?”

“You’ve been at odds before. I don’t think anyone would deny that.”

“True,” I agreed. “Nolan and I have butted heads.”

“But he helped you prepare for your bake the past two weeks. And I think everyone’s noticed the way that you two support each other during the challenges. So what do you think has brought on this change? Is he just afraid of going home? Has he learned a lesson about cooperating in the tent?”

“I mean…” I paused, then gave a self-effacing grin to the guy holding the camera—not Em, this time. It was almost too easy. Nora was setting me up with the exact questions I needed, and not to toot my own horn, but I was a pretty decent actor. “I’m not sure that Nolan’s actually changed at all.”

“So you’re saying—”

“I think it’s possible that I judged Nolan a little quickly.” I bit my lower lip. “I think maybe we all did.”

“So Nolan’s a better guy than you thought?”

“I think Nolan…” I trailed off, then covered my face with one hand, laughing awkwardly. “I don’t know, this is weird!”

“What’s weird?”

“This! Talking about him like this, talking about how I fe—” I cut myself off abruptly, clapping a hand over my mouth.

“How you what?” Nora asked. “How you…feel about him?”

“Ahhh!” I squeezed my eyes shut and made a face. “I don’t know. Ask me something else.”

“Alright, how about this? How do you think Nolan feels about you ? There was a moment when he was helping you with the mirror glaze for your little chocolate petit fours today—”

“Ask me a question about baking!”

“That is a question about baking.”

“You know what I mean,” I protested. “Ask me a regular baking question. Something you’d ask someone else. That’s why we’re on the show, isn’t it?”

Nora laughed. “Pretty sure you yourself said that you’d be more than happy to lose the show if you ended up with a boyfriend. So, is that what you’re angling for now?”

“Oh my God, stahhhhp . This is embarrassing.”

“Just trying to find out if there’s more going on behind the scenes than what we saw in the tent today. I think viewers at home would love to know.”

“Nothing is going on,” I said, trying to appear as sincere as possible. “I swear. I’m pretty sure Nolan hates me.”

That much, at least, was true. Nolan might have started being nice to me on camera, but off-camera, he avoided me like the plague.

“I’m not so sure viewers would agree with that,” Nora said. “But if that’s the story you’re sticking to…well, maybe we’ll have more luck getting answers out of Nolan.”

“Oh my God, if you do, will you please tell me?” I leaned forward a bit. “Because honestly, the guy is so hard to read. One second he’s all quiet and mysterious, and the next, he’s being nice to me, and I don’t—” I broke off again and looked down at my lap.

“You don’t what?” she prompted.

I gave the camera a helpless smile. “I just don’t want to say something if he’s not—like, I don’t want him to think that I—because I don’t, I’m not trying to—that is, I just—he’s so—” I bit my lip, then laughed around it, like I was trying and failing to keep a secret. “Ugh. Why did I even come on this show?”

“Should I remind you again about what you said about finding a boyfriend?”

“No, please don’t.” I laughed. “I know what I said. But it was just a joke, you know? I never expected…”

“Never expected to mean it?” Nora finished for me.

I didn’t respond to that with words, just smiled widely and then hid my face in my hands again, like my crush on Nolan was so big I couldn’t even look at it.

“So are you looking forward to Friday and the festival down at the harbor?” she asked after a moment.

“Sure. Well, assuming I’m still here, of course. I might be voted off, obviously.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s much chance of that.” Nora grinned. “Still, should be a nice break from the intensity of the baking tent, right? A chance to socialize with the remaining bakers?”

“Of course. It’s always nice to let your hair down a bit, so to speak.

“And get a chance to see more of the town of Adair and Summersea Island,” she prompted.

“Oh, definitely,” I said, suddenly remembering the talking points Tanner had instructed us all to work into our confessionals. “It’s gorgeous here on Summersea, and I love the Wisteria Inn, but I can’t wait to see more of the island and learn more about its local culture.”

Apparently, the island’s tourism board was hosting a shrimp and grits festival down at the harbor this Friday night, and the show was obligated to showcase it in return for some local tax break they’d been granted. I actually found shrimp a little creepy. Something about their antennae always made me think about bugs. But I could do my part to talk it up.

The interview wrapped up quickly after that, and Nora threw her arms out wide and stretched as the camera guy left the tent. She uncapped a bottle of water and took a deep drink. She must have seen me looking at it longingly, because she tossed another bottle over to me.

“Good stuff,” she said, nodding at me.

“The water?” I asked.

“No, the stuff about you and Nolan.” She grinned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two actually liked each other.”

I grinned back. I’d told her and Em about our plan, and they’d both agreed to help where they could. “That’s the idea. You think it’s working?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?”

She had a point. Last Friday’s elimination had been a white-knuckle ride. The judges had called Nolan and me last in the group of bakers who were safe, and even after they’d said our names, I couldn’t quite believe our plan had worked. It wasn’t until a whole day later, after they’d cut Miriam and sent her home, that it began to sink in.

“You haven’t heard anything else, have you?” I asked Nora. “From Tanner, or anyone in contact with the network?”

“About you and Nolan?” She shook her head. “No. I was lucky to hear what I did that one time. But my guess is, as long as you keep this up, you’ll be safe for a little while. Viewership shot up last week, and you’re all anyone’s talking about.”

“Well, I am a good actor, even if I do say it myself.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave me a skeptical look.

“What?” I asked.

“I was just thinking. It is an act, right?”

“The thing with me and Nolan? God, yeah.”

“You’re sure?”

“Nora, he didn’t even want to talk to me after we found out we were safe last week. He’s doing this purely to help his chances of staying on the show. Unless we’re on camera, he doesn’t even want to be in the same room as me.”

She made a face. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“I’ll admit, I don’t know him that well. I’d only met him a couple times before the show started. But I just got the impression…” She trailed off, then shrugged. “Well, like I said. I don’t know him that well.”

I laughed. “I don’t know him that well either, but trust me, I’m an expert in knowing when people hate me. I’ve had a lot of experience in that area.”

“Well, as long as you keep up the ruse, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Give the cameras a little more flirtation at the festival this Friday. If you really wanted to do me a favor, maybe you could even squeeze in a smooch.”

I burst out laughing. “You want me to kiss Nolan? On camera?”

“What? It’s not that crazy a thought.”

“Didn’t I just tell you that Nolan hates me? It’s hard enough just getting him to talk to me.”

“You also told me that he’s willing to do what it takes to stay on the show. Come on, it would really help me out.”

“Why? Surely your job doesn’t depend on me and Nolan pretending to like each other. You work with other bakers too.”

“Oh, yeah, no.” Nora smiled. “It’s not my job you’d be helping. It’s me personally. Em and I have a bet.”

“A what?”

“I bet him that you guys were committed enough that you’d kiss on camera. He thinks Nolan’s too uptight for that.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I’ve got fifty bucks riding on this.” She frowned. “You’re not offended, are you?”

“I don’t really see how I can be, given that I told you this was all fake. But I think Em’s right. There’s no way Nolan would go that far.” I laughed. “And in the end, it is still a baking show, not a dating one. It’s not like we can make it all about us.”

Nora grinned. “Not with that attitude, you can’t.”

By the time Friday rolled around, it was clear that Nora was right about one thing, at least. Nolan and I had made it through another week, safe. Only six contestants remained now that Cadence had gone home: Omar, Wade, Lucinda, Aisha, Nolan, and me.

I couldn’t believe we’d made it this far. I also wasn’t sure how much longer I could last. Lucinda was a grandmotherly type who’d been baking for approximately seventy years, and Aisha had a side business making custom wedding cakes. Omar had worked as a pastry chef for the past five years, and Wade was one of those dark horse amateurs who had way more experience than seemed natural.

Nolan might make it through another episode or two, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could, no matter how the votes went.

“Holy shit,” Henry said when he called me Friday afternoon. “I just caught up on the past two weeks’ episodes. Are you and that Nolan guy really—I mean, I thought you hated him. I thought he hated you . What the hell?”

“I think he still does hate me,” I said, rifling through my suitcase, looking for the largest butt plug I’d brought with me to Summersea. I had just enough time to make another video for my CamFans account before we had to head out for the festival tonight. “And I’m not exactly his biggest fan either. He’s still an asshole.”

“It didn’t look like you thought that on the last episode I watched.”

“Believe me, I do.”

I pulled off the jeans I’d been wearing and studied myself in the mirror. I had a bright pink jockstrap on. Should it come off for the video, or stay on to provide an air of mystery?

“So what happened, then?” Henry asked. “Why act like you like him, unless you’re—wait. Wait a second. You didn’t hook up with him, did you? You didn’t discover he has, like, the world’s most amazing dick and decide you didn’t care about his awful personality anymore, right?”

“Henry, I’m hurt.” I turned and looked at myself from the side. If the jock stayed on, it would direct attention to my ass. “Do you really think I’m that shallow?”

Henry snickered. “I can’t believe you have to ask me that.”

“Shut up. You’re a terrible friend.” I turned and studied myself from the other side. “And nothing happened. We just decided that if we acted like we liked each other, we’d have a better chance of staying on the show. I’m helping him be more likeable, he’s helping me be more bakeable.”

“Bakeable?”

“Well, like, bake-capable.” I waved my hand in the air. “You know. Bake-worthy.”

“That sounds dirty somehow.”

I grinned. “It is me we’re talking about.”

“True,” Henry agreed. “To be honest, I kinda can’t believe you haven’t hooked up with him, even if you do hate him. I’m almost disappointed.”

I paused, wondering if I should tell him. Nolan hadn’t explicitly sworn me to secrecy or anything, but he had said it couldn’t happen again, which kind of implied it wasn’t something he wanted people to find out about.

Then again, since when did I care about what Nolan thought of me? He might be annoyingly hot and annoyingly good at getting me off, but he was also annoying , plain and simple.

He was probably back in his room right now, already looking up recipes for next week, being a total control freak like always. He’d probably want to strategize tonight, instead of taking the chance to relax.

Asshole.

My mind drifted for a moment, wondering what Nolan would wear tonight. The same formal uniform as always, looking like he wanted to talk to me about my 401k? Did he even own anything more casual than that?

It killed me that I still hadn’t seen him naked, when he’d seen all of me. Seen, touched, tasted. What would he think if I leaned in close to him tonight and whispered that I was stretched out and aching, still lubed up from my video. That I wanted him to take me out to the pier, shove me up against the railing, and—

“Aiden, you haven’t hooked up with him, have you?”

“I—what?” I blinked, my attention jumping back to my conversation with Henry. Fuck, I hadn’t meant to get so distracted.

“Oh God, you did hook up, didn’t you?” Henry said.

I sighed. I shouldn’t have, because he pounced immediately.

“I knew it. I knew something was going on. Alright, tell me everything.”

“I didn’t—that is, I’m not—ugh.” I groaned. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to be talking about this.”

“Yeah, but when has that ever stopped you before?”

I rolled my eyes, even though Henry couldn’t see it. “Fine. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Who would I even tell?”

“I don’t know, Blake?”

“Aiden, I’ve like, barely talked to Blake in the past month. Let alone seen him.”

“Really?” I blinked. The last time I’d checked, things had been going great between Henry and his boyfriend. “What hap—”

“No, no, no.” Henry cut me off. “No distracting from the topic at hand. We’re talking about your love life now, not mine. But I promise I won’t tell anyone, if that makes you feel better.”

“Good. I know you wouldn’t really. I just felt like I had to say that for, like, ethical reasons.”

“Since when do you care about ethics?”

I snorted. “I don’t. But I feel like Nolan would.”

“Okay, but since when do you care about Nolan?”

“I don’t . I just…don’t want him mad at me.”

Henry was quiet for a moment, then started laughing.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s just…you don’t like him, but you are hooking up, but you don’t want anyone to know, but you are pretending to be interested for the cameras, but you don’t care about him, but you do care what he thinks about you?” Henry chuckled. “Up is down. Left is right. I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.”

“Nothing! Nothing is going on. We’re not currently hooking up, we were hooking up. No, not even that. That makes it sound like it was a thing. It wasn’t a thing.”

“Even if you only hooked up once, that still counts as a thing.”

I winced. “Technically, it was twice.”

“Twice!?”

“Don’t say it like that. It didn’t mean anything. The first time was just because I pissed him off so badly that he—honestly, I don’t even know what it was about. It was good, but very unexpected. To say the least.”

“And the second time?”

“God, I don’t even know. We were fighting again—what else is new?—and one second, I wanted to slap him, and the next, I was ripping his clothes off. I mean, I still wanted to slap him, but like, I wanted to be naked while doing it.”

“Hot.”

“Kinda. But also really fucking weird. He’s just so stuck up. And convinced he’s right about everything. And weirdly neurotic. And then he just shuts down completely and stares at you instead of talking, and you can just feel waves of judgement rolling off of him.”

“Less hot.”

“Exactly.” I bit my lip, wondering if I should say what had really been bothering me. “The weirdest part is, he won’t even let me reciprocate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that both times, I came. I came hard . For someone who’s such an asshole, he does know what he’s doing. But he barely lets me touch him. I still haven’t even seen his dick.”

“Whoa. Definitely weird.”

“Tell me about it. I can’t help wondering if there’s something wrong with me. Or if I’m doing something wrong.”

“I’m sure you’re not.”

“Then why won’t he let me fucking reciprocate ?” I growled. “See, this is why I didn’t want to talk about it. I hate that I’m still thinking about this when he’s already said he doesn’t want it to happen again, and clearly isn’t interested, and is a complete jackass, and honestly doesn’t deserve any more of my attention or time. I’m sick of it! I’m sick of thinking about him, or talking about him, or having anything to do with him at all.”

“Except for the whole part where you’re trying to convince America you’re in love.”

“Ugh. Yes. Except for that part. But I’m not even sure how much longer that’s going to last, either. There are only six of us left on the show, and I’m clearly the worst of us all. I think I’m going home, no matter what.”

Henry chuckled. “Maybe you should try going out with a bang then. Proposition him on camera. Ask him why he won’t let you see his dick. Offer to suck him off.”

“Oh my God, you sound like Nora.”

“Who?”

“One of the people who works on the show. It’s not important.”

“I’m just saying, it could be compelling TV.”

“It would also get me sent home immediately. Innuendo is one thing. Public indecency is something else.”

“Still, it’d be memorable, you have to admit that. And wasn’t that your whole reason for coming on the show?”

It was. Henry was absolutely right about that. But something had changed over the past few weeks, without me even realizing it.

I still couldn’t bake anything decent without Nolan’s help, but I found myself wanting to get better. To stay on the show and prove that there was something in this world that I didn’t suck at. Prove it to everyone else, and prove it to myself.

Why was I only just realizing that now, when I was in danger of going home?

“Nolan! Hey, Nolan!”

I pushed through the crowd at the festival later that evening, trying to catch up to Nolan as he headed to the drinks table. I could see why the tourism board wanted to get the festival on camera. The giant pots of simmering shrimp, grits, clams, and mussels, the bluegrass band and people dancing, and the gulls crying out over the harbor water all made for quite the show.

It was a little hard to see how the cameras were going to find the contestants in all of this chaos, but I supposed that wasn’t my problem. Nolan didn’t turn around until I was at his elbow, and when he did, it was to give me a confused look.

“What?” he asked, sounding impatient.

“Nothing, I just—” I wilted a little under his gaze. “I just wanted to talk.”

“About?” Nolan said, taking another step towards the table.

“I don’t know. Anything. I just thought, you know, if we’re trying to sell everyone on the idea that we like each other, we should maybe spend some time talking tonight. For the cameras, if nothing else.”

Nolan gestured at the crowd swirling around us. “I don’t see any cameras, do you?”

“Well, not right now, but they’re circulating.” I rolled my eyes. “Why does everything have to be such a fight with you?”

“It’s not a fight, I just…” He trailed off and sighed. “You know what? Fine. We can use this time to talk about the challenge for next week.”

I groaned as he began making his way towards the drinks table again and hurried so I could stay by his elbow.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill us to talk about something else,” I said as we reached the table. “If we want people to believe we’re in some kind of relationship, maybe we should actually get to know each other a bit. Talk about something other than baking for once?”

“Summersea sangria?” the lady behind the table said, pointing to a massive crystal punch bowl. “It’s got Georgia wine, rum distilled right here on the island, and local peaches.”

“Thanks.” I took the glass she offered me. There was no way I could make it through tonight sober. But Nolan shook his head.

“Do you have something non-alcoholic?” he asked.

The woman nodded and pointed to another large punch bowl, filled with something that looked almost identical in color to the sangria.

“Same local peaches,” she said, “with some other fruit juices. Will that work?”

“Sure,” Nolan said, though he looked at the glass she gave him with some misgiving.

“Come on, cranky.” I took his arm and guided him out through the throng. “Let’s go find somewhere to sit before you glare a hole through that.”

Nolan shook my hand off, but he did follow, and when I found an empty bench against the harbor wall, he sat down next to me. I took a sip of my sangria—it was strong, which I was more than okay with—and cocked my head to the side.

“Do you not drink or something?”

He shrugged. “Not much. Not in crowds, anyway. Or situations where I don’t see the drink get made.” He took a sip of his punch and made a face. “This is way too sweet. I’d have been better off with water.”

He looked at the crowd that had gathered on the dance floor in front of the band, his face strangely tense. He was holding himself ramrod straight, not leaning back on the bench even a little.

“Well, you’re welcome to have some of mine, if you change your mind.” I caught sight of a camera across the dance floor and leaned in and poked him. “Hey, come on. We’re supposed to look like we like each other.”

Nolan leaned back. “Can’t we do that without you getting in my space?”

“Usually people who like each other don’t physically recoil from the other person’s presence, but you do you, I guess.” I waved a hand. “Look, I’ve been good. I haven’t been throwing myself at you or anything. I’m just saying it might help if you acted a little bit less like a robot.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and I prepared for him to snap at me, but when he opened them, all he said was, “Sorry. You’re right.”

“Wait, what?” I blinked. “Since when have you ever admitted that?”

“Don’t get used to it.” He rolled his shoulders like he was trying to work out a kink. “I just don’t like it when people touch me when I’m not expecting it, I guess.”

“I’m getting that.” I nodded. “And I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Thanks.” His voice was almost too quiet to hear over the band, but I resisted the urge to lean in. Didn’t want him to think I was trying to crowd him again. He shifted so his body was angled forty-five degrees from mine. Still not looking at me, but I supposed it was an improvement. “So. What should we talk about?”

I laughed. “Are you sure you’re not a robot?”

“What? It’s a normal question!”

“Maybe for a robot who doesn’t know how to simulate human-to-human interaction, it is. It’s not rocket science. We just have to make conversation.”

Nolan’s eyes darted over to mine, then looked away. “Alright. Um. What’s your favorite baked good?”

“Oh my God, are you serious? Do you really suck at talking to people this badly?”

“What’s wrong with that question?”

“Well, aside from the fact that, for once, we’re not supposed to be talking about baking, it’s boring. What is this, a middle-school icebreaker? What color is your toothbrush, if you could have one superpower, what would it be?”

“Fine, you pick a question then.”

“Okay, how about, why did you decide to try out for A Piece of Cake ?”

Nolan took a sip of his punch, then grimaced. “That’s about baking. Next question.”

“It’s not about baking, it’s about your hopes and dreams and aspirations and shit.”

“Well, I still don’t want to answer it.”

“Why, did I touch a nerve? Or are you just determined to be mysterious for no reason.”

“No, I just didn’t think it needed to be answered again. I came on this show to win. I’ve already said that.”

“Yes, but why?”

“Because I want the money.”

“I get that, but—”

“Why did you come on the show, then, if this is such an interesting topic?” Nolan asked.

“To get exposure, so my acting career can get a jump start, or so I can go on some celebrity game show competition or, failing that, so I can at least become a D-list social media influencer who makes money hawking questionable diet supplements that haven’t been evaluated by the FDA.”

Nolan’s eyes widened, and he actually looked at me. “Wow. That’s detailed.”

I shrugged. “I never expected to get cast on this show, but I’m gonna milk it while I can.”

He laughed lightly. “Surprisingly honest of you.”

“I’m not actually this, like, evil lying liar who lies all the time. I just try to be clear-eyed about things. I was never going to make it far on A Piece of Cake based on my baking skills. I have to play to my strengths if I want to reach my goals.”

“Which are being semi-famous and shilling for weight loss companies on social media?” Nolan arched an eyebrow.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.” I gave him a sideways smile. “I sorta accidentally made my brother and his husband internet-famous last year, just by putting pictures of them being adorable online. Maybe I have a gift, you know?”

“I heard Vivian mention something about that,” Nolan said, nodding. “I guess that’s another fallback option for you, right? Managing their accounts and all that?”

“Oh, God no. They took them all down. Brooklyn—my brother’s husband—doesn’t really do social media and didn’t like all the attention, and Gabe—my brother—didn’t care either way. No, they’re happy living their tiny, obscure life here on this island with a population of twelve.”

“They live here?” Nolan looked surprised. “I didn’t realize.”

I laughed. “You didn’t ask. You never talk to me unless it’s about a challenge. How would you have known?”

He made a face but didn’t contradict me, which I was beginning to realize was the Nolan equivalent of anyone else saying, Yes, you’re right, good point .

“It’s been nice, getting to hang out with them while we’re here, but that is not a life that I would want long-term.” I took a sip of my sangria. After a moment, Nolan took another sip of punch, then grimaced again.

“Just set it down,” I told him. “That way you won’t keep forgetting that you hate it and drinking more of it.”

“It gives me something to do with my hands.” He shot me a look. “And yes, I heard the hands innuendo as soon as I said that, so you don’t actually have to make that joke.”

I hadn’t been planning to. It was clear that Nolan was implying he felt nervous, and that didn’t seem like something I should tease him about. I definitely knew better than to ask him why he was nervous. But explaining all of that would only make it awkward.

“What about you?” I asked instead.

“What kind of life do I want long-term?”

“Actually, I meant do you have brothers or sisters, but I’ll be generous and say you can answer the other question instead, if you’d rather.” I grinned.

“No siblings,” Nolan said.

“Do you wish you had any?”

“I don’t know. How can you miss something you’ve never had?” He looked out at the crowd and just when I thought he wasn’t going to say anything else, added, “Sometimes I think it would be easier now if I did. But it’s probably for the best.”

“Why?”

I regretted the question immediately. I was sure Nolan would push back on it. But he was just quiet, staring out over the sea of people. Finally he turned to me. “Because I wouldn’t wish my childhood on anyone else.”

His voice was so quiet, so filled with regret, that I was speechless. Nothing seemed like an appropriate response. Not just because of what he’d said, but the fact that he’d said it at all.

I couldn’t think of any other time Nolan had volunteered so much information about himself.

“I’m sorry,” I said after a minute.

“It’s okay.” He waved my apology away with a tiny hand-flick. “I mean, it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t all awful. And I don’t really have the right to complain, all things considered.”

Silence reigned again.

“My parents sucked too,” I blurted out after a moment. “Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t assume that your parents were the problem. I just meant—well, aside from Gabe, my family is pretty shitty. My parents never should have gotten married. They definitely shouldn’t have stayed married.”

Nolan gave a small nod. “I know the feeling. Up to a point, anyway.”

“It wasn’t as bad for him,” I continued. “Gabe, that is. He’s smart and driven and athletic, and everyone liked him. High school was easy for him, and even though my parents weren’t thrilled when he came out, at least he’d already finished college and had a job. They couldn’t really do much to him.”

Nolan cocked his head to the side. “I’m assuming that wasn’t the case for you?”

“Yeah, no.” I laughed. If I sounded bitter, so be it. “I came out to them as a freshman in high school. First they told me I didn’t know what I was talking about. Then they told me I was doing it for attention. Then I kissed a boy from another church’s youth group at a weekend conference, and they told me that they couldn’t support me anymore if I acted like that.”

“Jesus.”

“They didn’t kick me out, but it was like—like I stopped existing to them. When I started getting shit at school for being gay, they just asked me what I’d expected. Said that unless I was willing to go back in the closet, to lie and say it had all been a phase, there wasn’t anything they could do. That I was choosing myself over our family. As though our family had been so great to begin with. Sometimes I think the only reason they’ve stayed together so long is the common ground they find in being disgusted by me.”

I took a long drink of sangria, relishing the burn of alcohol down my throat.

“If I’m being totally honest, that’s probably part of the reason I wanted to come on this show. To show them that I’d made it. They always said I’d never amount to anything. But I just fucking know that this is the kind of show they would watch, and the idea of them seeing me be happy and visibly gay—well, that doesn’t suck.”

“Yeah,” Nolan said slowly. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“It’s probably part of why I don’t want to get sent home, either.” I was babbling now, saying too much, too fast, but whether it was the sangria or just the surprise of Nolan listening to me, I couldn’t stop. “I’ve never been good at anything. I’m not athletic. My grades fucking sucked in high school. There was no way college was on the table. The only things that come naturally to me are being cute and being obnoxious. But if that’s all I’ve got, I’ve gotta use it, right?”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.”

I gave Nolan a level look. “You’re telling me you don’t find me obnoxious?”

He laughed. “Maybe not, but are you trying to tell me you don’t play it up just to annoy me? That you’re always dialed up to three-hundred percent, all the time?”

“Well, maybe I’ve honed the skill a bit over the years. But in my defense, being obnoxious was my defense. My only one. I got bullied once I came out, and look at me. I’m short, I’m thin. I couldn’t fight a four-year-old, much less your average high-school jock. The only thing I could do was show them I didn’t care. Refuse to let their opinions affect me. I’m not going to let other people make me feel ashamed of myself, you know?”

Nolan pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to.

“Go on, say it.”

“Say what?”

“That maybe I should care about people’s opinions a little more. I know you’re thinking it.”

“That actually wasn’t what I was thinking at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“I was thinking that’s a very brave way to live.”

I tilted my glass and drained the rest of my sangria. “It’s the only way to live. If I cared about what other people thought, I’d never have had the courage to be myself. I’m not sure I would have made it out of high school. But I’m not gonna be a fucking coward, you know?”

Again, Nolan’s jaw tightened, and again, he didn’t say anything. I sighed. We’d been doing so well, but clearly I’d said something to annoy him. If I didn’t change the subject, we’d probably sit in silence for the next half hour and convince everyone we’d broken up.

“I saw you talking to the guys who own the inn the other day,” I said, casting around for a new topic of conversation. “They seem nice. Cute, for sure.”

Nolan laughed. “Yeah. I guess they are, though I guarantee you both of them would be embarrassed to hear you say that.”

“Do you know them well?”

“I used to work with Mal, back in DC, before he moved down here. He’s a good friend. I met Deacon around the time they started dating.”

“Is that how you know Em, too? And Nora?”

I’d been dying to ask all of this. Nolan seemed to have so many friends down here, which suggested that he wasn’t the same person around them as he was on the show, or around me. I wondered what it would be like, to see him through their eyes.

“Yes and no. Em is Deacon’s brother, so I did meet him that way. But then he started dating my old college roommate, Tate. So I’ve gotten to know him a bit through that, too.”

“Are you like, a matchmaker or something? Setting all your friends up with the loves of their lives or whatever?”

“Hardly. I actually wasn’t even friends with Tate anymore, when he and Em met. We’d kinda had a—well, it doesn’t matter.”

“Ooh, a what ? A fight? A breakup? Did you two date or something?”

“What?” Nolan’s eyes went wide. “God, no. No, Tate and I never—no. He was not—that wouldn’t have been—just—no. Definitely not.”

“So…that’s a no, then?”

“To put it mildly.” Nolan laughed softly. “I came out to Tate in college, and he told me I was disgusting and never wanted to speak to me again.”

“Jesus. Sounds like he would have gotten along well with my parents.”

“Probably. It took a while before he came around to accepting, well—”

“Himself?”

“You could put it that way.” Nolan shook his head. “The point is, we never dated. Not that I date people anyway. I don’t do the whole relationship thing. But definitely not with Tate.”

I waited to see if he’d say more about that. I had a million follow-up questions, but he didn’t elaborate. He just took another sip of his punch and stared down into his cup like it held the answer to the meaning of life.

“Must be nice, though, getting to see your friends while you’re here,” I said, hoping it was an innocuous enough prompt to get him talking again.

His lips twisted. “True, but it also means they get to witness all my failures up close and personal.”

“Oh, but that’s not so bad.” I grinned. “I fail in front of people all the time. You get used to it.”

Nolan turned and gave me a long look, his eyes narrowing. I wondered if I’d pushed him too far.

“I’ve been thinking about that, you know,” he said. “You keep saying you’re dumb, but have you ever thought that maybe you have a learning disability, or something where—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” I broke in, my stomach twisting. “I know you’re just trying to be helpful, but you don’t need to. I’m fine.”

“I’m just saying—”

“No, I know what you’re saying.” I drummed my fingers on my leg. “I do. But I have enough problems to deal with as it is. I don’t need another one.”

“It’s not a problem, though, that’s my point. I was just thinking about how you seemed to have trouble with the call numbers for those library books, or how recipe steps sometimes trip you up, and if you got a diagnosis, maybe you could—”

“God, will you let it go?” I jumped up off the bench. “I’m just dumb, okay? Not everything needs a special explanation, not everyone can be as fucking perfect and intelligent and accomplished as you.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“Some people just aren’t smart, and it’s fine. I’m not in school anymore, it doesn’t fucking matter if I have a learning disability or not. I’m doing just fine without special treatment or a label or any of that.”

Nolan looked up at me for a long moment, then finally nodded.

“Alright. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have pushed.”

“It’s okay.” I looked out over the harbor wall at the water below. “I didn’t mean to explode.”

“Still.”

We were quiet for a minute, until I laughed.

“Well, this is awkward. I don’t know where to go from here. Usually, you’re the one who jumps down my throat, and then I get all pissy about it. How does it work if roles are reversed?”

Nolan smiled. “I’m not sure. I guess I get pissy now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think pissy works on you. You’re more of a long-suffering sigh and quiet stare kinda guy.”

“I could try that, if you think it would help.”

I made a face, then pointed to his punch. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you finish that, and I’ll go get us refills. Maybe if I get more rum into me, I’ll start feeling sad and pathetic enough to apologize to you .”

“I resent the implication that I feel sad and pathetic right now,” Nolan said, arching an eyebrow. “But I don’t actually have a better idea, so…bottoms up.”

He drained the rest of his glass and handed it to me. The line for the drinks table was shorter this time around, so it didn’t take me long to get refills for both of us. I took a tiny sip of Nolan’s, just out of curiosity. It really was disgustingly sweet.

I’d just begun making my way back through the crowd when Tanner stepped in front of me.

“Aiden,” he said, his smile broad. “How nice to see you. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

I lowered Nolan’s glass from my lips. “You have?”

Someone in the crowd jostled into Tanner from behind, pushing him towards me. I pulled the glasses in close, trying not to spill, but my wrists got sloshed anyway. Tanner gave me an apologetic look and angled us over to a small table on the side of the tent.

“Here, why don’t you set those down for a sec,” he said, taking them out of my hands.

“I really ought to—”

“Nolan can wait,” Tanner said, still smiling. “He’s had you all night, he can go a few minutes without you, can’t he?”

I frowned. If Tanner knew I’d been talking to Nolan all night, he couldn’t have needed to talk to me that badly, or he’d have found me earlier. But when I looked back up into Tanner’s eyes, the words faded on my tongue.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He brought a hand to my shoulder.

I resisted the urge to shrink back, but I thought I might be starting to understand Nolan’s touch aversion. For some people, anyway.

“Um. Thanks?”

“What, not used to getting compliments?” Tanner said. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, it’s just—” I scanned the crowd, confused. “There are a lot of cameras around. I didn’t think you’d want them to see—”

“See me talking to one of my favorite contestants?” His hand stroked down my arm. “I control what gets edited in and out, remember?” His fingers caressed my wrist. “Perhaps you’re right, though. There’s a lot more I’d like to do to you, away from the cameras.”

I laughed nervously, and it wasn’t an affectation. I didn’t want to offend Tanner, but I didn’t want to encourage him either.

“Like teach me how to follow a proper recipe?” I said. “Or lecture me about taking things more seriously?”

“Aiden, don’t play dumb.” Tanner’s smile was smaller now, more intimate. I wasn’t sure I liked it. “You know I’m interested in you. Are you really telling me this doesn’t go both ways?”

The thing was, Tanner normally would be the kind of guy I would go for. Older, wealthier—the kind of man who wanted a cute guy on his arm, and who wouldn’t care that I worked at a coffee shop and could never pay for our dates. But something about him set my teeth on edge.

“I—I’m not—” I swallowed. “Tanner, I’m flattered. Really. But right now, I’m kind of—”

“Don’t tell me you’re saying no because of Nolan,” he interrupted. “Because you don’t owe that guy anything. I don’t know if you seduced him, or if he made the first move, but credit where credit’s due, you created a hell of a narrative for the show.” His fingers slid back up my arm. “But that’s all it is, Aiden. A story. And I can promise you, no matter how thoroughly you’re getting dicked down by him, I can do better.”

I caught sight of Nolan through a break in the crowd. He was still sitting alone on that bench, looking down at his phone pensively, but at that moment, he could have been berating me six ways from Sunday and telling me just how pathetic he found me, and it still would have been preferable to this conversation.

“I—I have to go.”

I pushed away from the table, but only made it five steps before Tanner called my name.

“Aiden, wait.”

I turned, already hating myself for listening to him, but all he did was point to the glasses I’d left on the table.

“Don’t forget these,” he said. I flushed and moved back to grab them. “And don’t forget what I said, either.”

With a final squeeze of my shoulder, he slipped away into the crowd.