Chapter Five
IT WAS the next day, and Daniel was hiding from his boss. He ducked behind the studio’s front desk and peeked over the edge. Shit! She saw him.
He’d been avoiding Madeline because what was there to say? She needed an answer to the question: are you going to buy the studio? Well, he didn’t have one of those. He had a whole lot of fear about being in charge of something so treasured, and was he really going to take out another loan? What if he failed? Just nosedived straight into bankruptcy. Then all the students and all the employees would hate him—he would hate himself.
He scrambled for a towel and started dusting as Madeline floated toward him.
“Hi, Daniel.”
“Madeline! Well, what a lovely surprise. When did you get here?”
She peered over her bookish round glasses with her arms crossed and burgundy lips pursed. “What are you doing down there?”
“Me? I’m checking on the printer.”
“I see. Something you do often?”
He cleared his throat and patted the printer. “Not typically. But lately, its behavior has been… well, it’s been worrisome. I’m concerned about its ink consumption. And hey, no judgment, none of us are perfect. It could just be going through a rough patch, you know? Stress from all the printing, trouble connecting with people and the internet—”
“My office.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He followed her into the OR with his head hung.
She closed the door behind them. Her emerald gaze burrowed under his skin. “You’re avoiding me.”
“That is absurdity—”
“Why are you avoiding me?” She folded her hands in her lap. “Is this about buying the studio?”
He rubbed his neck and eeeeeee ’d .
“Daniel, I made you that offer because you were the first person that came to mind, but if you’re uninterested, I more than understand. You don’t need to pretend like I don’t exist. Just say the word, and we can move on.”
“No! I am so interested. I love this place, and I would love to call it my own. I just need time to think about how I could make it work and also convince myself I’m not a loser who tricked you into believing in me.”
“How would you have done that?”
“My hubris, obviously.” He sighed. “It’s a blessing and a curse being this magnetic.”
“Look, I’m sorry for the pressure. I wish I could give you more time. But I’m going to tell you what I’ve already told you—you’re capable of doing this. Abundantly capable. I trust this place in your hands, with my students, my legacy.” She rested her beautiful bony palm on his shoulder. “I trust you .”
He gave his ever-present anxiety permission to wane. It was her touch. Her faith. If his mentor was leaving, he wouldn’t have that touch or that faith to remind him he might have been capable of doing this . He scrunched his face and routed his eyes to the floor.
Madeline’s gaze jumped to the front door as a curious smile split her face. “Look.”
When Daniel spun around, a flower delivery man stood at the entrance, holding a bouquet of long-stemmed midnight calla lilies tied with a white ribbon.
“Those are for you,” Madeline said. “I can tell.”
He shook his head, eyes glued to the flowers as one of the instructors walked them to the back. “No, they’re not—”
“Daniel,” the girl said, poking her head into the office. “These are for you.”
His hands shook as he reached for them. Up close, they were wildly pigmented and, judging by the beauty and the quality, also wildly expensive. He scrambled to read the card.
Daniel Greene Hard-to-Get-Over-Poor-Chester III,
You’re dazzling.
“Who are they from?” Madeline asked .
Daniel fell into his seat, whisked the bouquet to his forehead, and dipped dramatically backward as if he felt faint. “This fucking guy.”
“I assumed that much.”
“He is so perfect, and I cannot figure him out. I meet him at a party, he comes on hot and heavy—stop me if this is TMI—then we have our first date, and he doesn’t even try to sleep with me—TMI? Stop me—like, at all. He drops me off, kisses me good night, and goes home. What gives?”
Madeline gave him a funny look. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a first date, but isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?”
“I suppose if you’re a character in the Bible, but I thought we were all sex-positive nowadays. Free love and free the willy. It makes me feel like he’s not that interested in me.”
“Not interested? Well, the flowers would beg to differ. Don’t confuse disinterest with old-fashioned courtship, my love. It sounds like you might just have yourself a gentleman.”
“A gentleman?” He squinted and sucked his lower lip between his teeth. “What’s the difference between a gentle -man and, like, a rough -man?”
“The difference is that a gentleman takes his time and does what he does without expectations. A gentleman will put in the effort to make you feel special.”
He thoughtfully hmphed. Well, that was… new. Was it possible he needed to reevaluate his standards? Maybe there was a correlation between diving into bed with someone and his history of misconnections with men. “Is it possible I’ve never met a gentleman?”
Madeline shrugged. “It’s probably a dwindling tradition. So maybe hold on to that one.”
I intend to. He smiled as he twirled for the door but caught himself. “Oh, and hey, I’m sorry for, you know, checking on the printer. Give me just a little time, and I’ll get back to you.”
She smiled that people’s princess smile of hers. “I believe in you.”
He plopped the flowers into someone’s leftover plastic gas station cup and found his phone to see it’d been sweetened with a text message from Aaron:
What are you doing tonight? Besides letting me cook you dinner.
Daniel grinned down at the screen .
Going to this fancy place for dinner where I heard the food is so-so, but the chef is really hot. Send me your address.
When his phone pinged with a location, he zoomed in on the map. It pinged with another message.
I’m just a few blocks from your studio.
Good, then I can walk. It will give me more time to figure out how I’m going to thank you for the flowers.
But he’d been dancing for six hours. He could probably use a shower.
Any chance I can get hot and naked at your place? I mean, shower at your place?
Any chance you can speak without innuendo?
Was I doing that? Man, I’m just stiffened with embarrassment. Absolutely rock-hard with shame.
Aaron took a moment, then responded:
Yes, you may take a shower. I hope it relieves all that tight, thick, explosive stress of yours.
Daniel tossed his head back and laughed. Fat chance, but a boy could dream.
DANIEL TRIED not to sashay everywhere he walked, but Aaron lived in the type of building that made it impossible not to swish one’s hips as they strutted up. It was all the seamless glass and chrome trim, and these grand front doors that took him two tries to heave open. Everyone knew the more mammoth a front door, the fancier the place was.
Once inside the vestibule, he pressed the button for Aaron’s apartment and waited to be buzzed in, which happened in seconds, prompting the doorman, Santa Claus’s equally jolly brother, to chirp as he directed him to the elevator, “Enjoy your evening, sir. Give my best to Mr. Aaron.”
Of course he would give his best to Mr. Aaron. Mr. Aaron could have whatever he wanted. The whole thing felt very romance-in-a-Hallmark-movie with a montage of their laughing faces as the credits scrolled. What happens when high-powered and distinguished falls for indecisive and broke? Coming this fall.
The elevator dinged open, and there stood Aaron, wearing a dusty blue cashmere sweater, dark trousers, and his chocolatey brown hair all tousled to one side. It was very Young Elvis the way it fell into his eye, and his smile even pulled a bit higher on one side as he said, “Hi. You made it.”
“Hi, mister,” Daniel said, a little too breathy, a little too literally weak in the knees. “I just have to tell you that the flowers you sent are the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever received, and just because they’re the only flowers I’ve ever received, doesn’t make them any less beautif….” He trailed off, sniffing the air. “Oh my. What’s that smell?”
Aaron twisted back over his shoulder, pointing a thumb behind him. “Oh, does it smell like food? That’s my apartment.”
“Don’t you fucking tease me.”
Aaron chuckled. “I told you I was making dinner. Are you hungry?”
He nodded forcefully. The thing about food was that it was expensive. What wasn’t expensive were those tiny rectangles of jelly that sometimes came with bagels and such. He kept those in his car just in case he needed a pick-me-up, which did not do wonders to lift one’s pride.
“Well, come on. Dinner’s almost ready,” Aaron said, which was the same as saying, “Well, here’s a bunch of literal gold,” because the apartment he led them to—aside from being gorgeous—smelled like fresh bread had been baked and butter had been melted, and garlic had been simmering on a stove for a while.
“Oh my heavenly heavens.” Daniel’s mouth filled with saliva as he tapped his fingertips together and gawked over a pile of rolls in a basket. “What are we doing with these? Can just anyone eat these, or…?”
Aaron pointed to them. “Those? You want one?”
“I want seven.”
“Yeah, take as many as you want. And here. The bathroom’s this way.”
Seven seemed excessive. With six rolls cradled against his chest, he followed Aaron into the bathroom, where the stainless steel shone, and the towels made pretty towel accordions, and the multiple-faucet shower looked like it would accost whoever got in its way (in a good way). Even the lights had a welcoming pinkish hue.
“Wow, your bathroom is just as fancy as you are,” Daniel said as he gazed around, chewing on a roll. “And look, you even have a roll warmer.”
“Or some of us call it a blow-dryer.” Aaron prodded through a drawer. “Okay, here’s an extra razor. Hair products in that cabinet, a washcloth. What else do you need? ”
“Nothing. All I require is a shower and your cock.”
“What?”
“What?” Daniel grinned sweetly. “I said all I require is a shower that’s hot.”
Aaron’s eyes narrowed to a squint. “I’ll leave you to your hot shower, then.”
“Mm-hmm, you do that.”
Oh, the posh shower products. The posh everything. A boy could get used to this kind of treatment with dinner rolls in excess, and hair masques with labels in French, and a bodywash that smelled like a sexy woodworking shop. Why was this man single?
He sped through the shower, toweled himself off, and swiped some styling product through his wet hair. For being so elegant, it was shockingly cozy at Aaron’s place. Even Aaron’s desire to take things slowly was oddly comforting. With the topic of sex off the table, perhaps there’d be more opportunity to get to know each other.
Wow. He had to blink hard at his reflection. He was officially this many days old when he’d had that revelation for the first time.
He wrapped his waist in a towel and padded into the kitchen, where he’d left his duffel bag. Aaron, busy tossing long-stemmed broccoli with a cream sauce, glanced up, and his gaze snagged on Daniel’s naked torso.
They stood in a staring contest for a long several seconds. Well, Aaron was in a staring contest with Daniel’s stomach, and Daniel was trying not to eat it up like the seventh dinner roll he secretly wanted. Every day, he moved his body in unimaginable ways. Even if he did have a bit of a featherweight frame, he was still etched with lean, functional muscle. It was probably shocking to see him shirtless for the first time.
“Hey.” He snapped his fingers. “Excuse me, sir. Eyes up here.”
Aaron’s gaze bounced up.
“Do you think this is some sort of a game, Aaron?” He squinted as he held a palm to his chest. “We are supposed to be taking things slowly.”
Aaron opened his mouth and closed it again, almost abashed looking.
“You think I’m some kind of a floozy for whom you can just buy flowers, and cook dinner, and treat like a literal prince? Well, I’m not a prince, Aaron.” He pointed a finger to his chest and dropped to an indignant whisper. “I’m a Midwesterner.”
Aaron dropped his chin and chuckled. “Ahh, my mistake. ”
“Yeah, it is your mistake, because I don’t appreciate”—he reached both arms up to the ceiling and twirled toward the kitchen—“you ogling the way you do. It’s obscene.”
“God, I’m the worst.”
“And, for the love of Zeus, if you could please give me some space ?” He stopped mid twirl to brush against Aaron’s body, then continued in a slinky, snaking walk around him. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable.”
“I’m sorry you feel uncomfortable here,” Aaron said as Daniel draped himself back over the counter like he was sunbathing. “It’s clearly insufferable for you. Do you need to borrow something to wear? Would that help?”
His spine instantly snapped straight at the thought of getting to see the bedroom. “What a gentleman. This way, then.”
He followed Aaron into the bedroom, which looked precisely how he’d pictured it with all the clean dove grays and live edge woods and oh, the scent. Geez, the scent. It smelled like vanilla bean, orris butter, and expensive suede. The sheets probably smelled like that. What if he just crawled in for a moment—? No.
They were old-fashioned gentlemen. Or Aaron was an old-fashioned gentleman. Daniel was a Midwestern prince who was trying.
“This is stunning,” he said, gazing around, working his arms through a white V-neck that Aaron handed him. “Did you design this space?”
“Not just this. All of it. The whole place.” Aaron grinned as he unearthed some gray sweatpants from a drawer. “That’s my dancing. It makes me happy.”
“Aww, do you mind if I explore a bit?” He quickly stepped into the sweatpants. “It’s just so lovely.”
“Of course not. The lamb ragù isn’t ready yet.”
“Okay, well, that’s kind of long and complicated for a safeword, sweetie.” He patted Aaron’s chest. “We’ll work on that.”
He started on a meandering stroll around the apartment, gliding his fingertips over a table that looked like petrified wood and a chair that looked like it was from the Ming dynasty. He hadn’t really noticed the attention to detail when he arrived, but maybe because it was so uncrowded, as if each piece of furniture had been selected carefully and not acquired through hand-me-downs or left outside by a dumpster like most of Daniel’s stuff. It was half Trinidadian yoga studio and half Cubist mansion, if both of those things could coexist inside a cloud. The most stunning part had to be the floor-length windows through which neon city light poured, illuminating a huddle of green houseplants.
Daniel touched the leaves of a few different vines. One plant stood out among the rest: a bonsai tree with an ivory tassel earring dangling from one of its branches. He thumbed the delicate beads. “What’s this?”
Aaron looked up from dicing a tomato. “Oh, it’s a bonsai tree.”
“Yeah, I can see that, but why is it wearing jewelry?”
“The earring was my mom’s.”
Was.
“I’m training the tree. That one’s called a semi-cascade. It was her favorite.”
He sucked his lip. “She’s passed?”
“She was sick for a long time.” Aaron didn’t look up from the cutting board. “Growing up, she had a sunroom where she always had, like, two or three bonsai going. They were beautiful. She was beautiful. She would try to teach my brother and me how to prune them, but we were too young to care. I wish I had cared a little more.”
Daniel’s heart squeezed. He couldn’t imagine life without his mom. Even if he only got to see her once a month because he’d moved to the city and she’d stayed in the burbs, it was still nonnegotiable that he could see her whenever he wanted. “You care now.” He kept his voice mild and smile sweet. “If you ask me, that counts.”
“Thank you.” Aaron blinked his striking eyes, the being behind them melting into a warm, golden puddle. “I still think about her. I still miss her.”
“Well, you’ll always miss her, right? What about your dad?”
Aaron instantly hardened. What had been soft and golden was suddenly bleak and stony. “I don’t talk to my dad. Neither does my brother. He’s—he’s not a good person.” Aaron’s shoulders shuddered. He cast his gaze down and parted his lips like he had something more to say but remained silent.
Daddy issues, hard same. Daniel wanted to press, but if Aaron was anything like him, talking about his dad caused his mood to shift so sourly it puckered his mouth. It was better to deflect. “How old’s your brother? ”
“Two years younger than me, so twenty-five. Your age. Andrew. He wants to be a pilot, and you would love him. Everyone loves him.”
“I’m sure if he’s anything like you, he’s wonderful.”
“Way better than me.” Aaron beamed, pride oozing from his pores. “Smarter, funnier, better looking.”
“Quick! Give me his number.”
“And straighter,” Aaron laughed. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but as straight as they come. What about you? Siblings?”
“Nope.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Only child.”
“Ahh,” Aaron said, his head bobbing in nods. “That explains so much.”
“What does it explain? Why I can’t stand it when someone doesn’t like me? Or why I think I need the unwavering attention of everyone in the room?”
“Why you became a dancer.” Aaron grinned down at the salad he was preparing, but when he glimpsed up, it almost looked like admiration in his expression. “A boy who just needed a stage to feel at home. I’ve never dated a dancer.”
Kind of like how Daniel had never dated someone who liked that he was a dancer so much. It was sort of amazing to have someone appreciate it. He pirouetted his way through the kitchen until he hard-stopped in front of Aaron, leaning on the counter beside him. “I know you’re dying to ask it, so go ahead.”
Aaron’s eyes slid to his. “Ask what?”
“The answer to your burning question is yes.” He winked. “I am that flexible.”
Aaron ran his tongue over his teeth but failed to censor his smile as he swiped his hands together. “The lamb ragù is ready.”
“See, that’s the thing about safewords. They’re supposed to be simple.”
“No, here’s the thing about safewords.” Aaron grinned, a gorgeous and seductive Young Elvis. Without warning, he gripped Daniel’s body, spun him around, and caged him against the counter from behind. “You’re not going to care about a safeword, sweetheart. You’re not even going to remember your own name.”
Daniel’s smile fizzled into a whimper as Aaron pressed into him.
“But that’s okay.” Aaron leaned into his ear, tangled one hand into his curls, and whispered, “You can just use mine. ”
Sacre bleu. Was the room suddenly seesawing?
“Use it. Praise it.” Aaron’s teeth grazed Daniel’s neck as his hand tightened on Daniel’s hip bone. “Scream it.”
The sound Daniel made was pretty unladylike.
“But like I said….” Aaron grabbed the salad and smacked his ass on his way to the table. “The lamb ragù is ready.”