Rebel Hearts

13. Aiden

13

AIDEN

“ S o would you say Aiden’s always had the baking bug, or is this more of a recent interest?” Nora asked Gabe a week later.

Gabe darted a quick glance to where I stood off-camera, and I shrugged. Whatever he said, I’d just have to roll with it. They hadn’t even told us they were filming these meet the family segments until Tuesday, and they hadn’t let any of the contestants see the questions beforehand.

“These vignettes will help viewers get to know you even better as we move into the semi-final,” Vivian had said, clasping her spoon and beaming at us. “They’ve had a chance to fall in love with you in the tent over the past six weeks, but this will show them another side of you.”

“And who knows what sorts of skeletons will fall out if we rattle enough closet doors,” Tanner added with a grin that I was pretty sure was supposed to be mischievous. It just made me feel sick to my stomach.

It was crazy enough that I’d made it to the semi-finals. I didn’t want to think about what other surprises might be in store.

We’d had to give the producers contact information for our family before the show even began, and I’d only given them Gabe’s. I hadn’t talked to my parents in almost a year, and I wasn’t sure I wanted the show to have the ability to get in touch with them. Who knew what they’d say?

The semi-final challenge episode next Monday was going to be a surprise, with no chance for practice or preparation, so the producers had blocked off this whole week for filming family interviews instead.

Lucinda and Aisha, the other two bakers who were left besides me and Nolan, were both off-site, filming segments in their hometowns. Nolan evidently hadn’t given the show any family contact information at all, so the producers had filmed him with Mal and Deacon instead.

That left me, which was how we’d wound up on the tiny balcony of Gabe and Brooklyn’s apartment in downtown Adair, perched above an ice cream shop. You couldn’t get any quainter if you tried.

“Aiden’s always had a lot of interests,” Gabe said. “So many it’s hard to keep track of them, sometimes.”

“Really?” Nora asked. “Like what?”

“Oh God, like, everything.” Gabe laughed. “There was the two-year period when he was a kid where he was obsessed with this book of fairy tales we had. He used to cover himself in tin foil and pretend to be a knight, and he’d run around stabbing everyone with butter knives. Eventually, our mom got so annoyed that she said if he pretended to be a knight ever again, she’d stop feeding him for a week.”

Nora’s brow furrowed, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to laugh or not, and Gabe must have noticed it because he added, “Obviously, she was joking. But it made an impression because, from then on, Aiden pretended to be a princess instead.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not even a little bit. He’d wrap himself up in these pink bath towels our parents had and swan around the house in them, and then lie down in the middle of the floor pretending to be Sleeping Beauty.”

Oh lord, I’d forgotten about that, but the minute Gabe said it, the memory came flying back. I could see myself lying flat on my back in the kitchen, refusing to move because I was cursed to sleep until a prince kissed me. My parents had liked that even less than me being a knight.

“Sounds like you always had a vivid imagination, Aiden,” Nora said. The camera swung towards me.

“What can I say?” I grinned. “I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

“Do you still have that book?” she asked. “A keepsake from your childhood?”

“I don’t think—” I broke off, frowning. “You know, I actually can’t remember what happened to it.” I turned to Gabe. “Do you know? I can’t remember seeing it after first or second grade.”

“No, I, uh—” Gabe swallowed. “I’m not sure. I guess we just lost it somewhere along the line.”

He looked back at Nora expectantly, and she glanced down at the notebook she’d brought with her.

“Let’s talk a little bit about the more recent past. So, Gabe, it must have been a surprise to find out that A Piece of Cake would be shooting here on Summersea where you and your husband live.”

“It was,” Gabe agreed, smiling over at Brooklyn, who sat on his left. “He didn’t even tell me about it until a couple weeks beforehand.”

“I didn’t know!” I protested.

Gabe laughed. “What he means is that he didn’t bother to read that closely.”

“He was just busy practicing his bakes,” Brooklyn put in. “You’d be distracted too if you found out you’d been cast on a reality competition.”

“I appreciate the support,” I said to Brooklyn, “but I don’t think anyone watching at home is going to believe I practiced all that much.”

He laughed. “Still, we were happy to find out you’d be here, once you told us.”

“Now, Aiden had a bit of a role in bringing you two together, if I understand correctly,” Nora said. “Is that right?”

Brooklyn and Gabe shared a brief, panicked glance, then both looked at me. Again, all I could do was shrug. I was sure Tanner wouldn’t want the beginning of their relationship made public, but I was also sure Brooklyn and Gabe knew that.

Gabe smiled awkwardly at the camera. “Well, not in bringing us together so much as bringing some publicity to our relationship.”

“So he was the genius behind the Instagram account for you two that took the world by storm?” Nora prompted.

“I don’t know if I’d call him a genius so much as a deranged gremlin,” Brooklyn grumbled, “but yes, that was his idea.” He smiled at me to take any bite out of the words.

“In my defense, I was feeling very, very single at the time,” I said, holding my hands up. “And it was nice to believe that there could still be happy endings for people.” I grinned. “And, you know… happy endings , too.”

Nora laughed. “But you guys took the account down after a bit. Was all the fame and pressure getting to you, or did you just run out of cute pictures to post?”

“Come on, have you seen them?” I gestured to my brother and Brooklyn. “They will never run out of cute pictures to post, because they couldn’t take a bad picture if they tried.”

“Your confidence in us is flattering,” Brooklyn said before turning back to Nora. “We basically took it down because it had done its job. The account brought a lot of attention to the non-profit that we were working with, which was great. But we didn’t want our presence to overwhelm things, you know? We wanted the organization to be the story, not us.”

“Besides,” Gabe put in, “if there’s one person built for fame in this little trio, it’s definitely Aiden, not Brooklyn or me.”

“You know, he did get stopped and recognized four times on our walk over here,” Nora confided. “Asked for autographs and selfies. I think you might be onto something.”

“That might have had more to do with the fact that we were lugging giant camera equipment around with us,” I said. “But hey, I’ll take what I can get.”

“That sounds suspiciously similar to something you said early on in the season,” Nora said. “Regarding your goals for the show, and what—or should I say who —you were looking to go home with.”

“What can I say? I’m an open-minded kind of guy.”

Nora looked back at Gabe. “Would you say that Aiden’s always been a romantic?”

Gabe snorted. “Romantic? That’s, uh, one word you could use to describe him. Not necessarily a very accurate one, but sure.”

“Hey!” I objected. “Don’t slander me in front of America.”

“You’ve been slandering yourself since day one,” he said. “Don’t pretend like you’re offended just because someone else is saying it now.”

“Maybe I’m a changed man. Maybe I repent of my whori—uh, horrible ways,” I said, catching myself at the last second when Nora shot me a worried glance.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Gabe laughed.

“So you don’t think Nolan’s had any kind of influence on him?” Nora asked.

“I’m more worried about the kind of influence Aiden is going to have on Nolan than the other way around,” Gabe said. “He seems like a great guy. And while I’m all for people making new friends, I kind of want to tell him to run away while he still has his dignity intact.”

“Excuse me, if I’d have known you were just going to be defaming my character this whole time, I wouldn’t have agreed to this interview,” I said.

“Yes, you would have, because you love being the center of attention.” Gabe arched an eyebrow at me, and I glared back mutinously. “See?” he continued. “You’re not even saying anything right now because you know I’m right.”

“I’m not saying anything right now because I know I’m doomed to be misinterpreted and maligned no matter what I say, so why should I give you more ammunition?”

“Just keep telling yourself that.”

“I noticed you called it a friendship,” Nora said, laughing. “Between Nolan and Aiden, I mean. I guess that means you don’t have any special insight into the nature of their relationship? Because neither one of them will confirm or deny anything on record.”

I gave Gabe the slightest shake of my head, and he smiled apologetically.

“Unfortunately, it’s the one thing Aiden refuses to talk about,” he said. “Which, you know, read into that what you will. But I don’t know any more than anyone watching along at home.”

“And do you have any hopes for the semi-finals and the finale?” Nora asked. “I’m assuming you’re rooting for your brother to win it all?”

“Well, obviously I’d love for Aiden to win. But he’s got some fierce competition,” Gabe said. “I still can’t get over the challah Aisha made during bread week. Amazing.”

“And Lucinda’s been just fabulous the whole way through this season,” Brooklyn put in. “I honestly don’t want anyone to go home. Can’t we just have four winners?”

“I know, right?” Gabe agreed. “Though even if Aiden doesn’t win the whole thing, we’re so proud of him for making it this far.”

“And hey, even if he doesn’t take the trophy and the money home, he could still end up walking away with someone’s heart,” Brooklyn said.

Gabe grinned. “Who could ask for a better grand prize than that?”

It was, overall, a fantastic interview. I hadn’t told Gabe to tease me, but he’d seemed to understand it was the perfect way to make me seem more sympathetic while showing a brotherly bond. And he’d played the questions about Nolan perfectly, without even needing me to coach him.

I was feeling good when we wrapped the segment. Nora headed back to the Wisteria, her team rolling the camera, sound, and lighting equipment behind her on a little cart. Brooklyn had to go inside to work on some grading, but I hung around with Gabe for a bit longer. It really had been a while since we’d had a chance to catch up.

“That went well,” he said, coming back to the balcony after showing Nora out. “At least, I thought so. I wasn’t too mean or jokey, was I?”

“No, you were perfect.” I leaned down on the railing and looked out over the tiny courtyard below. Potted palms rustled in the breeze, and coral honeysuckle wound and looped along trellises.

“Good.” He joined me at the railing. “I wanted to make it clear how happy we were for you. How much we’re rooting for you.”

“I’m not sure you should be rooting for me,” I said, “considering everyone else who’s left is vastly more qualified to win this than I am. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“The sentiment is the point,” Gabe said. “That’s what love is, right? Even if it’s irrational, you want the best for someone. I just wanted viewers to know how loved you are.”

“Stop it, I’m blushing.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot, you’re supposed to save all your blushes for the cameras. You’ve only got a limited supply, after all.”

I grinned. “Exactly. I’m glad you understand.”

“I really am proud of you, you know,” he said after a moment.

I wasn’t sure what to say in response. It was sweet, but it wasn’t like I’d done anything to warrant it, except worm my way onto a show I didn’t belong on and miraculously avoid what would have been very justified eliminations week after week. Maybe that was a talent, but it didn’t seem like one that should be celebrated.

“What did ever happen to that book?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

“Hmm?”

“That book of fairytales. The one I was obsessed with as a kid. I remember making you read to me from it every day for a while there, but then— poof ! My memory of it just vanishes. Like it never existed.”

Gabe frowned and looked down at the plants in the courtyard below. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“Gabe?”

“Yeah?” He was holding himself way too stiffly.

“ Do you know what happened to that book?”

“What? No.” He darted a glance at me. “Why would you—no, of course not.”

“Right.” I gave him a long look, and he glanced at me again before looking away just as quickly. “Right, of course not. You just happened to get really fucking tense when I asked you a perfectly innocent question. That’s normal. Happens all the time.”

“It does. And I’m not tense, you’re just being weird.”

“You are too, and I’m weird all the time, but I’m pretty decent at reading body language.” I thought back to the interview. “Are you sure we lost it?”

“What? When did I say that? I don’t know what happened to it.”

“Okay, except you said that, like, twenty minutes ago. Were you just spit-balling for the camera, or…”

Gabe sighed and looked over at me. “Does it matter?”

“It didn’t before. But now that you’re being so strange about it, yes, it does.”

“What’s the big deal about the book? You didn’t even remember it existed until half an hour ago.”

“Well, now that I do, I want to know what happened to it. What’s the big deal with you telling me?”

“Because you don’t want to know!” Gabe said, pushing away from the railing. “Because Mom and Dad made you throw it out. They didn’t even do it themselves. They made you do it, right into the kitchen trashcan, and then Mom emptied some coffee grounds and a banana peel onto it, and you cried, and they said that would teach you not to be a—” He broke off.

“Not to be a what?” I asked, my voice quiet.

He looked up at the sky. “Not to be a sissy, if I remember correctly. And I do, because you didn’t know what that word meant and you kept crying and asking what you’d done, and they just sent you to your room.”

“I—I don’t remember that at all.” I looked at him, bewildered.

“Well, good. I’m glad. It wasn’t a particularly enjoyable experience for me either, and I wasn’t even the target of it, so I doubt it would have been more fun for you.”

“They really did that? They really said that?”

He threw his hands out. “Does that surprise you? You know what they’re like. It’s the same reason they called and yelled at me when the show contacted them about the interview segment.”

“Wait, what?” I blinked. “How did the show even find them? I didn’t list them as family contacts.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that.” Gabe ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“Well, it’s too late for that now, so you might as well finish the story.”

He grimaced. “Someone contacted them. I don’t know who, or how, but I guess they were asked to record some kind of segment. You know, rah, rah, we support our son . But they said no.”

“And then they called you ? To tell you? What did they say?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I fucking do. What did they say?”

“What do you think they said, Aiden? Nothing good. It’s the same old shit. You’re trying to embarrass them, how could you think this was acceptable, how could you air your lifestyle in public and then expect them to support you.”

“That’s…fuck. They said all that?”

“Yeah. And they said to tell you that you weren’t welcome at home if you kept acting this way, and I told them they were being hateful and ridiculous, and you wouldn’t want to come home anyway. They said I should be ashamed of myself for choosing you over them, and I hung up on them. Not one of the most pleasant conversations I’ve had, all things considered.”

“They do realize you’re married to a guy, don’t they? I don’t know where they get off acting like I’m the only one who’s destroying the family name.”

“I think they like to pretend that I’m not,” Gabe said after a moment. “Since I didn’t come out until after I’d left home, and I’m not on national TV, they feel like at least the rest of the town doesn’t know.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m sorry.” Gabe put a hand on my shoulder. “Really. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to upset you, and because it’s honestly not important. They’re being assholes about it, and they’re not worth your time.”

“I’m not upset.” I glared at a particularly verdant banana tree down in the courtyard. “I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”

I didn’t think Gabe believed me, though, because he kept giving me these encouraging smiles, and then these weird, sad looks when he didn’t think I could see him. Finally, I said I needed to go back to the Wisteria and practice for next week, just to get away from him.

It wasn’t his fault, obviously. I wasn’t mad at him. I didn’t even want to be mad at my parents, because I didn’t want them to matter enough for me to care. It wasn’t like I had any reason to expect better from them.

But still, it put me in a shitty mood, one that wasn’t helped when I checked my CamFans account and saw another batch of messages oh-so-politely asking why I hadn’t uploaded a new video in two days. God forbid I have a life outside of sticking things up my ass.

@sherryboston: sammy baby, are you ok? miss you and that gorgeous smile

@TexasLovr: Can’t stop thinking about your hole. When can we expect another video? I think I’ve jerked off to your last one ten times by now. Not that I’m complaining—you’re hella sexy. But I’d love to see more

@DaddysInCharge: If you don’t post something new soon, son, I’m going to ground you and take all your toys away. Don’t you want to be a good boy? Love, Daddy

@JimPawcette1943: Sam, I hope you’re having a great week! We’ve been getting lots of sunshine down here, and my husband and I went for a long hike yesterday to the most beautiful waterfall. If you’re ever down this way, maybe we can show you.

@Spacegurl4u: Just popping in to say I’m thinking about you! Hugs!!

@kendollabs: fuck ur hot, wuld love 2 eat ur ass

Well, some were polite. Some were a little less so. Or rather, one in particular.

@ HungTopXL: You fucking cock tease. You think you can play hard to get and just stop replying? I’ll show you what hard feels like when I come to your house and fuck you while you cry. Do you think your stepdad would try to stop me, if I made him watch while I violated you? Or do you think he’d join in? Fuck his son and then pimp you out to anyone I invited over? You’d fucking love it, wouldn’t you, you little slut. Keep it up, and we’ll find out for real.

I don’t know what did it. Was it the stress of the interview? Was it finding out that my parents were the exact same assholes I’d already known they were? Or was it just something in HungTopXL’s tone? Maybe it was all three. But whatever the cause, my body shook as I started to read HungTopXL’s message, and by the end of it, I was crying.

It was stupid. I knew it was stupid, knew this guy didn’t know who I was, wasn’t actually going to follow through on any of the shit he said. But I was just so sick of it. I threw my phone down on the bed and made a noise that was half-scream, half-sob, and pure frustration.

“Aiden?” There was a knock on my bedroom door, followed by Nolan’s voice. “Are you okay?”

I held my breath, hoping he’d go away. I didn’t want to have to explain this.

“Aiden, I know you’re in there, I just heard you. Look, I was coming to ask if you wanted to grab dinner later, and you can say no, but will you at least open the door and let me know you didn’t just electrocute yourself?”

I frowned. That seemed suspiciously nice of him.

“Look, you realize it gets more suspicious the longer you’re silent, right?” he said. “I’m really working on the whole not-barging-in-on-you thing, but this isn’t the way to convince me you’re okay, this is the way to convince me you just lost a dildo inside your ass and are bleeding internally.”

I sighed and opened the door, glaring at him. “Give me a little credit. I know the rules of dildo safety. Flared base, always keep a firm grip on the end.”

Nolan arched an eyebrow. “I thought you said you’ve never had a grip on anything in your life?”

I laughed, but it was watery and weak, and he gave me a concerned look.

“Hey, come on. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s obviously a lie.”

“Well, maybe I’m lying because I don’t want to tell you.” I turned and walked to the window, staring out through the glass.

I heard Nolan shut the door behind me, felt him approach. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or annoyed. I couldn’t handle another rejection right now. Even one from Nolan, who I knew better than to care about.

“You don’t have to tell me that something’s wrong for me to see that it’s true.” His voice was gentle. “And you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to. I just want to know that you’re okay.”

I watched the low-slanting sunlight play on the leaves outside my window, thinking about my parents. They had never asked me questions like that. They’d always acted like my emotions were too much.

A shudder rolled through my body, and I hugged my arms around myself. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it bothers you,” Nolan said.

“Excuse you. Lots of stupid things bother me. You don’t know my life.”

“No, but I know you well enough to know that if you’re actually trying not to talk about something, it’s gotta be serious.” He studied me. “Come on, what are fake boyfriends for if not this?”

His words caught me off guard. Sometimes I forgot that was what we were. That the only reason we knew each other at all was because of this ruse. And here I was, considering telling him everything. When had things stopped feeling fake for me?

I couldn’t figure it out, which only made the tears at the backs of my eyes press harder, and the next thing I knew, Nolan was wrapping his arms around me. I buried my face in his chest as sobs racked my body. He smelled like mint and basil and sunshine. He smelled like home.

Why couldn’t I freeze time and just stay here forever, right in this moment? No consequences. No decisions. No feelings.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing my back. “It’s okay.”

It was the gentlest thing any guy had ever said to me, the sweetest I’d ever been treated, and we weren’t even together. Why was that? Why couldn’t I make it work? Why couldn’t I like someone who actually liked me back, find someone to want me for real, instead of just faking it?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nolan asked after a minute.

I hiccupped. I didn’t really want to talk. But Nolan’s arms felt too good. I could get used to this, if I wasn’t careful. It was better to remind myself that it wasn’t real.

I pulled away and found my phone. Pulled up HungTopXL’s message and handed it to Nolan. His eyebrows rose as he read it, and finally, he looked at me.

“Someone sent you this?”

I nodded.

“On your CamFans account?”

I nodded again. It was easier than answering out loud.

“I’m so sorry.” He sounded disgusted as he set my phone down on the bed. “Have you reported it?”

I shook my head. His face went from outraged to confused. Here it came.

“Aiden, you have to report this. This is serious.”

I shrugged. “What am I supposed to say?”

“That he’s harassing you. That he’s threatening to assault you.” Nolan stared at me. “Do you not get how serious this is? You’re clearly upset about it. I would think you’d realize that this isn’t okay.”

I turned back to the window.

“I didn’t say I liked it. But I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sure this is against whatever terms of service CamFans has,” Nolan said. “They must have a policy. Do you want me to look it up?”

“Don’t bother. It doesn’t matter.”

“Except it does, very much, and you know it.”

“Leave me alone,” I snapped. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

And go , I added in my head. Go, and let me feel even more hurt and pissed off when you do exactly what I tell you to do.

I needed to rub salt in the wound if I was ever going to get it through my head that feeling something for Nolan was a terrible idea.

“I just don’t get how you don’t want to report this. It obviously bothers you.”

“And the morning after the festival?” I rounded on him. “When I wanted to find out what had happened to your drink, and you told me not to?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because it could have been anyone, and because trying to figure out who it was would have required making it into a huge thing. But this is simple. All you have to do is take a screenshot and send it to some customer-service inbox, I’m sure. Or at the very least, block him. Do you not see the difference here?”

“I see that when it’s you, we have to be all private and buttoned-up and controlled, but when it’s me, you think it’s fine to make a mess of everything. Because I’m just a messy person, right? Because I asked for this?”

“You didn’t, though,” Nolan protested. “You didn’t ask for it.”

“Didn’t I? I set up the account. I put myself online, let people pay money to see me fuck myself, to message me with their fantasies. I make posts about how I want to be taken and fucked hard and taught a lesson. It’s not a big jump from that to this.”

“Yeah, except that all of that is a fantasy, and most people can tell the difference between that and reality. But this guy either can’t, or worse, he knows the difference and wants to terrify you anyway. Neither of those options is okay.”

“But this is all I have!” I exploded. “It’s different for you. You have a whole life that you don’t want turned upside down, but this?” I pointed to my phone. “This is it. This is how I make money. It’s my fucking livelihood, and I can’t turn everyone away because I don’t like the tone of their messages.”

“You’re not turning everyone away. It’s one guy. And for fuck’s sake, you can find something else to do, this isn’t your only talent. Stop thinking about yourself that way.”

“What other talents do I have, then, huh?” I growled. “Fuck, why am I even asking you? You don’t even like me.”

“That’s not true. I—I mean you’re—you’re not—”

“See?” I had to laugh. I was mad and hurt, but I couldn’t help it. “You hate me. What the hell am I doing, asking you for compliments? I guess I really am upset if I’m stupid enough to do that.”

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even dislike you. You’ve…grown on me.”

“High praise, coming from you.”

“But I’m an asshole, remember?” Nolan gave me a small smile. “Isn’t that what you always say?”

I rolled my eyes. “When you stop yelling at me for five seconds, you’re actually surprisingly tolerable.”

“Well, when you forget to be a brat, you’re not that bad yourself.” His face softened. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do—”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay, maybe I am. But it’s just because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I shrugged. The anger from a few minutes ago had drained out of my body. I just felt exhausted now.

“I appreciate it, I guess. But I’m not even really that upset about it.”

“Seriously?” Nolan looked at me incredulously. “You’re back to pretending that?”

“No.” I sighed. “No, I am upset. I just don’t think it’s really about that.”

Nolan watched as I sank onto the bed. I hugged my knees to my chest. I couldn’t have this conversation standing anymore. I was too tired.

“My parents are assholes,” I muttered.

“Okay,” Nolan said slowly. He made his way to the bed and sat down a few feet away, like he was trying not to spook me.

I supposed that was fair.

“I don’t know why I expect any more from them,” I said. “I should know better by now.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know. Nothing happened, but the way in which that nothing happened was shitty.”

“I’m lost,” Nolan said.

“You know the family segments?”

He nodded.

“I only gave them my brother’s contact info. But somehow, the show found my parents anyway and asked them to do a segment. And they said no, which is like, not shocking at all. But then they fucking called Gabe and instructed him to remind me that they’re disgusted by me and disappointed and want nothing to do with me, and like, I know that. Don’t they think I fucking know that by now? They’ve made it abundantly clear, and I didn’t even ask for anything from them, but they still made sure to reach out with the reminder that they hate me.”

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, and I scrubbed them away with my fists.

“I’m just so sick of wishing they’d be different. Because I know in my heart they never will be, but I can’t stop wanting it. And I just wish they’d tell me what it is that I did to deserve their hate because I can’t figure it out.”

And then, somehow, Nolan was hugging me again, and that only made me want to cry more. It was quieter this time, though. No angry, shaking sobs. I was too worn out for those.

But Nolan held me, and said all sorts of sweet, nonsensical things that he couldn’t possibly know, like, Shhh , and, It’s alright , and, It’s gonna be okay . I wanted to tell him he didn’t get to be an authority on everything. That things wouldn’t be okay just because he said they would be, that he couldn’t be in control all the time. But it felt so nice to be held, and I decided it was easier not to say anything at all.

When Nolan finally pulled away, I was horizontal, my head on a pillow. I didn’t know how that had happened. It didn’t feel sexual at all as Nolan lay down to face me, but it did feel intimate. I was doing a terrible job at not relying on him, and it was going to bite me in the ass.

But with his calm, dark eyes watching me, his warm body only a foot away, it was hard to care. He smiled, loose and comforting, like a daffodil curving towards the sun. I bunched the pillow up under my head and told myself to stop getting metaphorical.

“I don’t know what it feels like to have parents like that,” Nolan said, “but I do know what it’s like to want something from someone who just won’t—or can’t—give it to you. It really fucking sucks.”

“Yeah. It really does.” I exhaled slowly. “You had Deacon and Mal do your family segment.”

It wasn’t a question, except it was, and Nolan nodded.

“The network wants feel-good family segments, and my family…isn’t that.” He swallowed. “I grew up with my grandparents, actually, but they both passed on a few years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was sad, but not unexpected. And they were—well, they weren’t perfect, but they did their best with a bad situation. They loved me, even if they didn’t always know how to show it.”

Nolan was looking at something just over my shoulder, but I had a feeling whatever he was seeing wasn’t actually in the room at all. The air conditioner whirred softly, and a bird chirped on a branch outside.

“Your parents,” I asked. “Are they—did they also—”

His smile slipped, a ribbon coming undone. “No.”

For a long time, he didn’t say anything else, and I wondered if I’d pushed too far. He traced one finger down the expanse of comforter between us, following one of the thin yellow pinstripes.

“I haven’t seen my dad since I was seven.” His voice was so quiet that even in the stillness of the room, I had to strain to hear it.

“He wasn’t a very—” Nolan broke off, pausing. “I was going to say he wasn’t a very good person, but I guess I can’t really know that. He wasn’t a good dad, though. That much, I can say for sure. He would drink, and get angry, and take it out on whoever was within reach.”

My mouth dropped open, but Nolan rolled on before I could say anything.

“Usually my mom made sure she was that person. She’d make me hide and promise not to make a sound until my dad fell asleep.” He closed his eyes and shook his head momentarily, like he was trying to unsee something. “He was always so apologetic about it the next day, but apologies didn’t make her bruises go away.”

“Oh, Nolan…”

“One time, though, she wasn’t fast enough in hiding me. I missed school for two days after, and when I did go on the third day, I had a black eye. And I made the mistake of telling my teacher what had happened.”

He shook his head again. “I didn’t know what I’d done. Didn’t know I couldn’t undo it. Two days later, my grandparents came to pick me up after school. Told me I was going to stay with them for a while.”

“Oh no.”

“A while turned into weeks, and then months. I started going to a new school. They bought me new clothes, turned their guest room into my bedroom. I didn’t get to see my mom for months, and I only pieced together what was happening from snippets of conversations that I overheard. My parents were getting divorced, and my mom wanted custody, but the courts wouldn’t give it to her. And my grandparents supported that decision.”

He closed his eyes. His lashes were so long and delicate, black feathers against his cheeks. A beam of sunlight slanted in from the window and cut across his body, bathing everything from his neck upwards in gold.

I wished again that I could freeze time. Not for me, though. For him. I wished I could stop it, or maybe undo it, so he never had to tell me this story, because it never would have happened at all.

Just the two of us, gleaming in this patch of light. Weightless.

“The next time I saw my mom, she looked different,” Nolan said. “Thinner. Stressed out. She was acting kind of weird, and my grandparents were mad at her, and I couldn’t figure out why. She asked me if I wanted to come live with her, and I said yes, and we snuck out to her car. We made it three blocks before my grandfather caught up to us. After that, her visits were supervised.”

He made a face. “I don’t think they told me she was using until I was twelve, until I asked point-blank. But I knew before then. I knew, and didn’t want to admit it. I kept hoping she’d get better, but she never did. For years, it was the same cycle. She’d show up, say she was getting sober, that she’d stopped using and she was turning everything around, and then a week or a month later, she’d relapse and be gone again for who knew how long.”

He pressed his lips together. “My grandparents told me to stop expecting her to change, but they never understood. I didn’t expect her to. I needed her to. Because all of it—the drugs, the divorce, me getting taken away—it was all my fault.”

“Oh, Nolan. No, it wasn’t.” I reached across the comforter and touched his wrist.

His eyes flashed. “Wasn’t it?”

I pulled my hand away, letting it fall into the space between us. “Your dad was abusive. That’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not, but if I had just kept my mouth shut, I wouldn’t have been taken away from her. If I hadn’t been taken away, she’d never have started using. Call it bad luck, or bad timing, or whatever you want, but if I’d just not said anything to my teacher—”

“You cannot blame yourself for that. I’m serious. That’s insane.”

Nolan just smiled that tight little smile that I’d come to realize meant he disagreed but didn’t want to fight about it.

“The point is, I know what it feels like to need something from someone and not get it. My mom’s not using anymore, but for twenty years, that was all I wanted, and it was the one thing I couldn’t get.”

“I’m glad she stopped,” I said. “She’s better now?”

“In a way,” Nolan said. But he looked even sadder. “She got sick a year ago. Really sick. That was what finally got through to her, made her stop using. But she also didn’t have any money, or even a place to stay. So she came to live with me.”

“Oh.”

“It took some time to convince her she needed to see a doctor. A lot of time, actually. She thought they were going to judge her, tell her she was just a junkie. When she finally did go, we found out she had cancer.”

“Oh my God.”

“She’s had surgery. And she’s doing chemo now. Her doctors say there’s every reason to hope for the best, that the prognosis is good. But we won’t know for sure for a while.”

He brought his finger up and traced that line of yellow down the comforter again. He stopped right before he hit my hand, where it rested between our bodies.

“That’s why I’m here, actually. Turns out, cancer’s fucking expensive. I’ve taken on a lot of debt. And the bills just keep coming.”

“Shit.” I winced. “I should bow out. You have an actual reason to be here, and at least you’d have one less person to compete with.”

“You’re the only reason I’m still here,” Nolan said with a small laugh. “If you leave, everyone will probably go back to hating me.”

“Why didn’t you let them talk to your mom for your family segment? Not to sound cynical, but that’s a hell of a sob story. People would eat that up.”

“I’m not using her like that.” His eyes blazed. “I’ve put her through so much already. I’m not going to profit off her.”

“But it’s not your—”

“Even if it’s not my fault she started using, it is my fault for not seeing her all those years. I cut her off once I got to college. But I keep thinking, what if I hadn’t? Would I have noticed changes in her health sooner? Gotten her to see a doctor earlier? Could we have caught it before it got so bad?”

My heart broke for him. The amount of guilt he was living with, everything he took upon himself, was just too much.

“I want to hug you,” I told him. “But I don’t know if you’ll let me.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had a long time to adjust to it. I’m not gonna start crying just because I had to say it out loud.” He looked up at me, horrified. “Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to imply that you—you know what I meant, right?”

I laughed. “Yeah. I know.”

We were quiet for a minute, dust motes dancing in the sunlight around us. The whole world felt soft and hushed. Like the afternoon was holding its breath, one last, languorous moment before evening began.

Nolan stretched a finger out, hooking it underneath one of mine. “Thank you, though,” he said, his eyes on the comforter.

“For what?” I smiled. “For wanting to hug you? Or for not getting offended when you called me a crybaby to my face?”

He threaded another finger through mine and looked me in the eye. “Both?”

My breath caught. There was so much I wanted to say. To ask. To clarify. But right now, all I could do was marvel at him and how much strength it took, to have been through so much and to still be kind.

Maybe it took a while to find. Nolan kept his softness hidden, like something secret. But that just made it all the sweeter once it spilled into you.

“You were really coming to ask if I wanted to get dinner? When you first came in?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t that what fake boyfriends do?”

“Yes. That’s one thing.” I bit my lip. “We can still go, if you want.”

The words lay strung out between us like dew drops on grass, waiting for the world to inhale.

“What if I want to do something else now?” Nolan whispered.

I laced all our fingers together. “I might be interested.”

“Yeah?” A smile blossomed.

“Yeah.”

I gave our hands a little tug, pulling him towards me. His kiss was the barest brush of velvet against my lips until I opened my mouth, begging for him to come inside. His tongue caressed mine, slow and sweet.

“Yeah?” he said again, pulling back to look me in the eye.

I flushed. The desire I saw in his gaze was plain. His eyes made me feel naked, feel wanted, in a way that a million messages online could never do.

“Fuck yes.” I pulled him closer, then rolled onto my back so he landed on top of me.

It just felt good, his weight and his heat. The stubble on his jaw, the silk of his lips. Mid-kiss, our teeth clacked against each other, and Nolan erupted with laughter, his eyes closed, his face openly delighted, hiding nothing.

I liked this Nolan. This Nolan didn’t hold anything back. This Nolan wasn’t afraid to laugh, to be imperfect, to yelp when I stuck my tongue into his ear by accident, trying to kiss his neck.

Our clothes came off in a tangle of elbows, ankles, and cotton, and it wasn’t until we were naked, his body pressed to mine head to toe, that I realized this was the first time I’d seen all of him.

“Is this okay?” I asked, stroking a hand down his side.

“I mean, you might make me elbow you in the gut if you keep doing that. I’m ticklish there, too. But yeah, it’s okay.”

I grinned. “So ticklish. I might have to do a full-body exploration. Just to know what spots to watch out for.”

“Oh, I’m sure. I’m sure there’s absolutely nothing nefarious brewing in your mind about what to do with that information.”

“Nolan, I’m wounded. How could you think such—” I cut off with a high-pitched squeak when he pinched one of my nipples.

“Okay, now I’m really wounded,” I said. “I’m going to have to get you back for that.”

“Do your worst.”

Nolan kissed me again, his hand sliding down my chest and around to my ass, kneading it. I bent one knee, and he shifted onto his side, hooking my leg around him. Then he smacked my ass cheek. I yelped, and he broke the kiss, looking into my eyes.

I flushed. “Do it again.”

“Oh, so someone likes that, huh?”

I laughed. “What can I say? Maybe all my Daddy discipline videos are getting to me.”

“One of these days, I’m going to have to see this stuff you’re putting online,” he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck.

“You’re welcome to see it now,” I said. “Or anytime you want. I won’t even make you pay money for it.”

“Wow. Such a generous offer.” He laughed. “What do you want in return?”

I thought about it for a second. “Well, I didn’t hate the nipple thing.”

That made Nolan throw his head back and laugh. It was like a drug, that laugh. I felt high.

“I can do you one better,” he said, rolling me onto my back again and kissing his way down my collarbone. His hands toyed with my nipples, teasing and tweaking until his mouth took over.

I arched my back, in heaven as he nibbled and sucked on them, alternating the tiniest pricks of pain with soft, sensuous pleasure. His hand rested on my thigh briefly before traveling inwards, finding my cock.

I groaned as he stroked it, his fingers working in time with his tongue, playing my body like some kind of forgotten instrument only he knew how to work. Like I’d been shut up in an attic for a hundred years. I should have been brittle, but Nolan coaxed sounds out of me I didn’t know I could make.

My cock was leaking precum. I moaned as he swiped a finger across my slit. He brought it up to my chest, swirling it around each nipple, coating them with precum before going back to work with his mouth.

I spread my legs wider as he stroked me again, unable to hold myself back. I knew what I wanted. I wouldn’t push it, but I wasn’t going to hide it either. And if Nolan was looking for a sign of interest, I wasn’t going to leave him with any doubt. I whimpered as his fingers strayed backwards, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Fuck, yes,” I gasped as he stroked a finger across my hole.

“Tell me what you want to do,” Nolan said, pulling back to look at me.

“Whatever you want,” I panted. “I want to do whatever you do.”

His breath hitched. “Do you have condoms?”

“Fuck. No. Do you?”

His face fell. “No. I wasn’t really—I mean, I didn’t expect to need them down here.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “I honestly don’t.”

I’d decided that weeks ago, out in the tent. Getting to know Nolan better hadn’t changed my decision. It had only strengthened my conviction.

“I want you to fuck me,” I said, trailing a hand down his chest. “I’d want you to fuck me bareback even if we did have condoms. This just saves me from having to come up with an excuse for why we shouldn’t use them.”

Nolan’s pupils were blown wide with desire. “I got tested,” he said. “I had sex once this year, with—it doesn’t matter. Out of an abundance of caution, I got tested after. I didn’t have anything then, and I haven’t been with anyone since. But aren’t you worried I’ll—”

I shook my head, pressing a finger to his lips. “I trust you.” Then I grinned. “And it just so happens, I got tested a few weeks before coming here.”

“You got tested for STIs, but you didn’t bring condoms?” Nolan asked.

“They weren’t related to each other,” I said, and giggled at his confused look. “I did a thing, for my account. Made this video about how I’d sucked off my math teacher, and then my stepdad found out about it and made me get tested and then fucked me to punish me. It was a request!” I added, when Nolan’s eyes went wide. “The woman who asked for it—I mean, I assume she was a woman from her username, though, who knows—tipped me five hundred dollars for it. I figured I might as well get a real STI test so I could use the printed report as a prop. I whited out my name and stuff but—what? Why are you laughing?”

Nolan shook his head, laughter still bubbling up from his chest. “I just…that is an insane amount of preparation and detail for one video. I really am going to need to see this account of yours someday.”

“I promise you, whatever we do today is going to be a thousand times hotter than anything I’ve posted online.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Well, if you’d stop talking and get your dick in me, that is. If we’re just gonna spend the rest of the evening discussing the theoretical possibility of fucking, then I can’t—”

His kiss swallowed the rest of my words.

I might not have had condoms, but I did have lube—lots of it. Whoever did the housekeeping at the Wisteria had very politely left it untouched in the nightstand drawer I’d placed it in the first night. I wriggled out from underneath Nolan to grab it, suddenly frantic to feel him inside me, to let him take me before he changed his mind.

I wanted to be connected to Nolan. To open myself up to him. To feel him do the same to me. And I was afraid if we slowed down at all, his sense of responsibility was going to rear its head, and he’d worry that he’d hurt me, tell me I was just feeling vulnerable, that I would regret this in the morning.

But I didn’t care about tomorrow. All I cared about was this minute, this second, him and me.

So I begged for more after he slid one finger inside me, my hole slick with lube but still a trifle tight. I begged for still more after two, and he’d barely gotten three fingers into me, fucking my hole open, before I was pushing once again.

“Please, Nolan. I need it. Just fuck me already.”

Nolan’s cock was a wonderful thing—long and hard and thick. Another time, I would have begged him to slow down. Would have wanted to lick every inch of him, savor the taste of his skin, drain every drop he could give me as I made him shake. But not tonight. Tonight, I needed every drop in another hole.

He slicked himself with lube and moved between my legs. I pulled my knees back, opening myself as much as I could. He tilted my chin up with one finger, looking me in the eyes.

“You’re sure?” he said. The tip of his cock brushed against my aching hole, and I shivered.

“Fuck yes. I’m sure. I consent. You have my permission to fuck me absolutely senseless. Now go ahead and do it already before I— fuhhhhhck.”

Nolan slid into me in one smooth motion, taking my breath away. It was exactly what I wanted—hard, fast, and demanding.

In truth, I was pushing things a bit. There was a stretch as my hole accommodated his girth. But it was more than made up for by the look in his eyes, the pleasure and relief I saw there. I put my hands on either side of his face and pulled him down for a kiss.

I thrust my hips up, pushing him deeper into me, then pulled back. I didn’t want him to slow down. Didn’t want him to hesitate. I wanted him to fuck me. To use me. To know I could give him what he needed.

He took the hint, thrusting into me as my hole began to relax. I’d always loved the sensation of being filled, stretched out, and pumped into. The heady sense of surrender as someone used me hard, knowing they could be in complete control if they wanted.

Nolan gave me all of that and more. He began to stroke my cock in time with his thrusts, but I knocked his hand away after a few seconds.

“Don’t,” I said. “You’ll make me come.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?”

“Yeah, but—fuck, not too soon. Not until you’re closer.”

He kissed me in response but moved his hand away. He grabbed my wrist instead, brought it up to the pillows behind my head, then brought my other arm there as well. My stomach turned a somersault. How did he know to do that? Know what I wanted before I could even tell him?

“Keep those there,” he murmured, tweaking one of my nipples again.

“Which, my hands or my nipples?” I asked him archly.

“Oh, I see. You think it’s cute when you give me lip?”

“You seem to like it.”

“Careful, or I’ll show you just how much I do.”

God, I wanted that.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this,” Nolan said, his cock working in and out of me in long strokes.

“Pretty fucking sure I do,” I panted. “Because I’ve wanted this since the moment you walked into the tent the first day.”

“I beat you, then.” Nolan grinned. “I’ve wanted it since I saw you on the ferry.”

“You looked paralyzed when you saw me on the ferry.”

“I was.” He brushed a kiss across my mouth. “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about fucking you, too.”

I nipped at his lower lip. “Liar.”

“It’s the truth,” Nolan growled. “Right there in the bathroom. I thought about turning you around and pressing you up against the wall. Fucking you deeper every time the ferry crested a wave, until you were down on all fours because you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. Until you were moaning so loud, people could hear you as they passed by outside, begging for more.

“Fuck,” I moaned. “I want that so badly.”

“Yeah?” Nolan’s lips grazed my ear. “You want me to fuck you in public? Where anybody could see you taking it, hands and knees? Is it the danger that gets you off? Or the attention?

“Either,” I gasped. “Both.”

“You want me to fuck you while people watch? Jerking off behind their screens, wishing they could be me?”

“I want you to fuck me while they watch in person,” I said, caught up in the fantasy. “I want them to know they can only have me if you say so. Want them to see how I’ll do anything you say. That I’ll let them throat-fuck me, come on me, come in me—whatever you decide.”

“Fuck,” Nolan breathed, pumping into me harder now. “So fucking hot.”

“Do whatever you want to me,” I begged. “I want you to.”

“I want to touch your cock,” he said, licking my neck. “I want to watch you come while I fuck you. Can I?”

“Yes.” The word was breathy, needy, and I whined as he started to stroke me. He was practically an expert at my cock by now, and it didn’t take long to drive me over the edge, the twin pleasures of a hand on my cock and a cock in my ass overloading my senses.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, my body trembling. “I’m coming. Fuck, Nolan—I’m coming—I’m coming.”

He stroked me through it, my cock releasing long streams of cum onto my stomach, my chest, even my neck. My head tipped back, and my eyes closed, and I let him guide me over crest after crest of sensation. I swear I saw stars.

Nolan was staring at me hungrily when I opened my eyes again. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he said. “Do you know that? Perfect.”

He leaned down and kissed me. I ran my fingers through his hair, then clutched at his shoulders. I never wanted to let go. When he began to pull out, I stopped him.

“No,” I said. “I want you to finish. No jerking off in your room by yourself.”

“I will finish,” Nolan said, chest heaving. “But you just came. I know it doesn’t always feel good to get fucked after that.”

I shook my head, defiant. “No. I want you to. Inside me.”

I wasn’t going to let Nolan take that away from me. That proof that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. For all I knew, this would be the first and last time we did this. If it was the last time, I wanted to keep a piece of him with me.

“You’re sure?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Yes.” I smiled slyly, then batted my eyelashes at him, doing my best video voice. “Please fill me up? I need it. Need to feel you come inside me.”

It worked. Nolan’s nostrils flared, and he pumped into me again. Within seconds, he was back to the speed he’d been using before, fucking into me with force. And yeah, it was a lot of stimulation. Yeah, it was almost too much. But I didn’t care.

I wanted this. Needed it. Needed to know he wanted me.

So when his thrusts grew ragged, when his hips stuttered, I clenched my muscles and released, working in time with his movements, drawing his orgasm out of him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and relished the groans of pleasure, the final thrusts, the rush of warmth, and then the stillness as he collapsed on top of me.

I have you now , I thought. No matter what happens, you can’t deny we did this. You wanted me. You fucked me. You made me yours.

I wasn’t sure how long we lay there, exhaustion settling over us like a blanket. I was in no hurry for him to pull out. No rush to get to the cleanup. I didn’t care about anything other than being here, connected, just like this.

When Nolan finally did pull away, he kissed me lightly on the lips. I tried not to sigh at how empty I felt when he went to get water and a washcloth. He was gentle as he cleaned me up, and he brought the cup of water to my lips, holding it as I drank, like he was taking care of me.

I didn’t hate it.

When I’d drunk my fill, and he’d set the cup down on the nightstand, I expected him to stand up and make some excuse to leave. I’d been bracing for it since he’d gotten up the first time, reminding myself that I knew this would happen.

But instead, he slid into bed behind me. I didn’t even wait a second before I turned and buried my face in his chest, breathing deep. I loved the smell of him. The feel of him. The everything.

Nolan’s hand stroked my back in circles, like he was calming me down, guiding me towards sleep. As if I needed any help. I was fighting drowsiness, every minute we lay there dragging me closer to oblivion.

“Nolan?” I said, forcing myself awake for a final second.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re gone when I wake up, just…thank you. For, you know.”

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing his lips to my temple. “Go to sleep.”

And within seconds, I did, a smile on my face.