Chapter Eight
IT WAS the next day, Aaron hadn’t called, and Daniel was not freaking out about it. He rubbed warmth into his arms as he hunched over the steering wheel of his car outside of the studio, waiting for it to heat up. He dialed Olivia.
“Let me guess.” Her voice chimed over his car speakers. “You’re freaking out about it.”
“No,” he responded, huffing into his cupped hands. “Why would I freak out that he expelled me from his house?”
Her eye roll was almost audible. “He didn’t expel you from his house.”
“Oh yes, he did. He practically picked me up and threw me out. I’m surprised he didn’t start playing symphony music as I was getting dressed like they do at the Oscars.”
“Literally all he said was that he had to work early.”
Daniel rumbled in fake laughter. “An excuse if I’ve ever heard one. What’s next? His invisible dog ate my phone number, and that’s why he never called me again?”
“ Never called you again? It’s been less than one day—”
“Let’s face it.” He sighed, flittering a hand about. “He just wanted to get me into bed.”
Olivia barely contained a chuckle. “Which he did, correct?”
“Mm-hmm.” He flicked his gaze upward and inspected his nails. “Typical man.”
“The bed where he pleased you . Blew your mind. Almost killed you with his extreme sexiness and asked for nothing in return. That bed?”
“Yep,” he said, popping the p .
“God, you’re right. Sounds awful. You think this was his evil plan from the beginning? With the flowers and the dates and the homecooked meal from scratch. It was all so he could never talk to you again?”
He narrowed his eyes to a squint. “Okay, I see what you’re doing here— ”
“Well, I would hope so. I’m not being subtle.”
“—and I don’t appreciate it. Lest we forget, he ejected me from his house. Basically dropkicked me. You know what? That’s it.” He threw his hands up. “I’m blocking him.”
“Daniel. Has it ever occurred to you—?”
“No,” he said, balancing the phone on his console so he could search his dance bag for his lip balm. “Whatever you’re about to say, no. I’m pretty self-absorbed.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe it had nothing to do with you?”
He found the lip balm, flipping down the visor mirror to apply it. “Did I not just mention the self-absorbed thing?”
“Maybe he really was tired or, I don’t know, practicing healthy boundaries.”
“The hell do those have to do with this?”
“I’m just saying. Let’s not write him off as some asshole when so far—”
After a few seconds of silence, he realized the call had disconnected, and Olivia wasn’t just taking her time to formulate an argument. He tried to grab his phone to call her back, but it stumbled from his hands and wedged between the seat and the center console. The worst place for a phone to wedge.
“Well, shit. Hold on,” he said, jamming his hand to reach it as it started to ring. When he finally got ahold of it, it seemed he’d already answered the call, and it wasn’t Olivia.
His eyes widened as his stomach folded over itself in protest. “No,” he breathed. But it was too late.
“Hello?” His dad’s voice sounded over the speakers.
Shit, shit, shit. He could hang up and pretend it never happened? It’d been over a month since they’d last spoken, but in his defense, why would he take a phone call that was sure to leave him feeling empty, enraged, and hungry for deep fried chicken he didn’t need?
“Dan. Hello?” His dad’s voice was its usual burdened but with an extra dash of vexed to spice things up. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” he said, hanging his head. “I’m here.”
“Jesus, finally. Where the hell have you been?”
Nowhere special. Probably sitting somewhere with his phone in hand, declining his dad’s calls. He rolled his lips. “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Working. ”
“You mean dancing ?”
He ground his teeth as he glared at the windshield. “Yeah, can we maybe not do this whole thing tonight? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“What whole thing?”
“The thing where you call and make me feel terrible about my life.”
“You mean, the thing where I call and offer guidance for your life? And all you do is bitch about it, then shut me out?”
“Telling me to give up dance is not guidance, Robert. It’s hurtful.”
“No, what’s hurtful is my twenty-five-year-old son dancing as a career.”
Daniel fought a longing to wither up like a forgotten houseplant. It was difficult to describe the sensation he got whenever they had this conversation. If he sat quietly with it for a minute, it felt suspiciously familiar to a craving. The sensible part of him knew he didn’t need his dad’s approval, but the feeble, manic part of him insisted he wanted it. Either way, he wasn’t getting it, so he ran his tongue over his teeth and said, “Like I said, I don’t have the mental capacity for this tonight—”
“You never have the ‘mental capacity’ for it. That’s the problem.”
“Don’t you have other things to worry about? I’m sure you have a new girlfriend. Hopefully she has a kid, so you can raise one that isn’t such an embarrassment.”
He’d never met any of his dad’s many girlfriends. Never been invited to their house for a potluck. But his emotionally aloof father didn’t have the “mental capacity” for conversations that didn’t revolve around Daniel’s career, which is why he said, “The financial choices you make today will affect your future. I know you’re young, but someday you’ll thank me. You want to have a normal life someday, right? You want to be able to pay your rent?”
“I love my life, and I pay my rent.”
“Always? Is that always the case? Or do I have to pay it sometimes?”
One time. One time, he’d asked for help—something he’d always regret—and that was because his car’s timing belt went out at the worst possible timing. “I paid you back for that.”
“That’s not the point. You shouldn’t be this far behind on retirement. Irresponsible isn’t even the word for it, and all so you can, what? Wear a fucking crop top to work?”
Daniel squelched a scream. “I dance because I love it. It makes me happy. It’s always made me happy. ”
“Then dance in your living room, Dan. Don’t stake your future on it.”
“It’s Daniel, and too late. I’m buying it.” No. No, rewind and unsay that. He should not tell his father about buying the studio. If he was seeking any approval whatsoever, he was about to get the opposite.
“You’re buying…? What?”
His words got snagged on some jagged inner fear. Saying it aloud meant he’d very much have to own it. In more ways than one.
“What are you buying? You can’t afford to buy anything.”
He invited a long breath in and sat up taller with his exhale. “Madeline is selling the studio. The price is fair. It’s my literal dream come true, and so I’m buying it.”
An empty silence filled the car, or it could have been his dad disconnecting the call. That might have been the wedge that finally split their relationship’s foundation, but either way, it’d been shoddy craftsmanship from the start. He wouldn’t let himself do what he wanted to do, which was to begin to hope.
Even if this was maybe the one place hope could grow after all, within the confines of a business proposition was where Robert felt most comfortable. Perhaps the silence meant he was weighing the outcomes in his numbers-over-people managerial style and had discovered the value in owning a dance studio as adored as Madeline’s.
Daniel wrung his fingertips together and asked, “Hello? You there?”
“Unfortunately,” his dad finally responded with a heaviness he didn’t have before. “I cannot believe my ears. Are you absolutely insane?”
“Yeah.” He tried to keep his chin lifted enough to nod, but it wobbled like a balloon on a stick. “Figured you might say that.”
“Even if you didn’t have to take out another loan to buy it, you don’t know the first thing about running a business.”
“Madeline thinks I do.” It was a weak argument, and he knew it. “Madeline says I run it already.”
“Lord, how are you still this na?ve? I’m sure Madeline would say a lot of things to get out from under a bad investment, and of course she’d prey on someone like you .”
Someone like you. It stung worse than venom. Someone like him was someone always a little too young to be taken seriously, a little too old to not have his shit together, and a little too na?ve to own a business. Daniel, settle down, you’re too anxious. Daniel, stop crying, you’re too emotional. You’re too amateur. You’re too gay; too dramatic; too annoying. Daniel, you’re too much.
He hated being too much.
“All I want to do is help you,” his dad said, sounding exhausted. “That’s all I want, and I’m trying, but you need to listen. I have a real plan. A friend of mine might be willing to hire you at his accounting firm. You can’t show up to work in damn yoga pants, but—”
“As always, Robert, great chat.”
“Wait—”
A headache the size of a Buick rolled from the crown of his head and down his forehead, crashing behind his eyes, but it was nothing a hot bath, half a box of wine, and a good linoleum floor cry couldn’t fix.
A few minutes later, he pulled into his driveway and dragged himself out of the car. With his bag slung over one arm and Aaron’s calla lilies in the other, he trudged up his walkway when he heard a plink. He sighed down at his keys on the concrete. Because of course he dropped his fucking keys. He could join them. Just lie down. Give up.
“Shit,” a voice hissed from the shadows of his front porch.
Daniel jumped enough to spill the lily water. His heart galloped over itself as he focused through the darkness on the figure of a man crouched on the porch.
“I’m sorry,” said the figure, scrambling upright. “I wasn’t expecting you to come home—not, like, in a stalker way!”
Which sounded exactly like something a stalker would say. His heart careered faster when the stalker stepped into the light, and then he froze.
Rich chocolatey brown, striking blue ice, and more dusty cashmere, Aaron looked like the first snowfall of the season—it never sticks, that snow. It just covers the streets and grass in beauty for a while.
“Did I scare you?” Aaron asked. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”
“What are you doing here?” Daniel asked. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so comforted to see someone. What he really wanted to ask was How did you know I needed someone here?
“Um.” Aaron blinked down at the small white box he held in his hands. Something looked different about him. Beyond his fidgeting, he looked a bit weary. Even his hair insisted on falling from its style and pawing at one of his eyes. He tried to rake it back into place, but it broke loose again. “I was planning to leave this on your doorstep.”
Daniel’s eyebrows raised as he zipped his gaze from the box and back to Aaron. “Why? What is it?”
“It’s a nothing.”
“ A nothing ?” He dipped his head to the side. “Is it a nothing for me?”
Aaron pursed his lips like he was embarrassed it was a nothing for him, but he nodded.
“Can I see it?”
No. No, apparently not, because Aaron gave him the strangest look, like Why would you want to see it? How dare you ask me that? Back, swine. Then he twisted around to literally shield him from whatever he was doing. Daniel pushed up to his toes and tried to peek around his frame as shuffling sounded like maybe he was opening the box, and crinkling followed like maybe he was… eating paper? Who knew? He spun back around and thrust the box into the space between them.
Oh. Well, this was progress. Daniel dropped his things, took the a nothing , and pulled on the silver ribbon wrapped around it until it unraveled. He pried open the lid, dug into white spring-fill paper, and wedged his fingers around something heavy, round, and cold. He fished it out and held it up to the streetlight.
It wasn’t a nothing . It was a something. It was a snow globe. A dancer dressed in a blue-and-gold soldier outfit stood inside, striking a beautiful arabesque.
“And it does this.” Aaron twisted a knob on the bottom. Music from The Nutcracker began to chime from its tiny speakers.
He gasped, but he didn’t even mean to. Kind of how his hand absently hovered near his mouth without his awareness.
“It took me forever to find a male dancer,” Aaron said. “You guys are underrepresented in the snow globe market.”
The ragged edges of Daniel’s headache fizzled in real-time into tolerable softness. “What is this for?”
“I wanted to get you something.” Aaron sniffed as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, shrugging at the snow globe. “For your studio. For when you own it. ”
Daniel’s breath caught in his throat, somewhere between his overwhelming affection and the words Thank you . If the conversation with his dad had drained him, Aaron’s presence had filled him back up.
“Anyway, I hope—”
Daniel hauled Aaron into his chest, colliding with hard muscle and downy cashmere. Aaron’s eyes widened, and his shoulders tensed.
“I needed this,” Daniel whispered as he lifted to his toes and circled his arms around Aaron’s shoulders. “How did you know I needed exactly this?”
Aaron pulled pack to study his face. He was still tense, but his lips twitched into an almost-smirk. “You needed a snow globe?”
“I needed a snow globe.” He pecked Aaron’s cheek. Then the other. Aaron unknotted a little beneath his touch. “I was having a night, and you came. You brought a snow globe. You made it all better.”
Aaron swallowed, unspooling even more as he settled his gaze on Daniel’s lips.
“You make everything so much better. Kiss me.” He pulled Aaron in even closer. Close enough to feel the voltage crackle between them as he breathed Aaron’s air. “Kiss me. Like you did at the party.”
AARON’S HANDS were on Daniel’s skin, and his mouth was on his neck. He was kissing him all rough and unhinged like he’d done at the party, while the kid ground his tight little body against his, moving the way only he could. He was vaguely aware of how inappropriate it might be to kiss a dude so wildly in his yard with the neighbors so close and the occasional passerby out walking their dog, but heaven help him, this might be the last time he got to do it.
He had a plan. The plan was never to see Daniel again.
Never call him. Never answer one of his calls. The plan was to leave a stupid snow globe with a stupid note on his doorstep like the coward he was so he could retreat back to the outskirts of his life. So he could pretend Daniel didn’t exist.
What the plan was not ? This. Kissing him. Kissing him with his whole body while the grass did its magical sparkly dewy thing, and Daniel whispered Thank you onto his lips over and over. Kissing him with the note explaining how he wasn’t an attorney shoved into his pocket like a grocery receipt, worthless. No one ever returned groceries .
Regardless of the grass and its dreamy glistening, and regardless of Daniel’s leg doing that kicked-back-behind-him thing as they kissed—just because this looked like a scene from a music video—he wasn’t Daniel’s knight in shining armor. He wasn’t saving him with snow globes, making everything so much better. Kiss me, mister. Like you did at the party. He was making things complicated. He was an imposter.
“Do you want to come inside?” Daniel rasped into his mouth, his hands urgent and clawing Aaron’s back.
“Yep,” Aaron said. Really? Fucking yep ? So not only was he an imposter, but he was an imposter who wasn’t even trying to do the right thing? Come on. The least he could do was try. “Yep, I do.”
God, he was bad at this. He was bad at trying and even worse at honesty, which is why he let Daniel lead him toward the house by his hand. Maybe he’d do the right thing once inside? That was it. He just needed a roof over his head to be a good person.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Daniel said, risking a hesitant smile as he pulled Aaron into his living room. “A part of me didn’t think I’d hear from you after last night.”
If Aaron pretended for a moment that there was no better setup for coming clean than that sentence, it still didn’t address the potential that he’d vomit all over the floor if he had to say it aloud. He had a weak stomach. How was vomit fair to Daniel? It wasn’t, so he responded, “Ahh.”
Terrible. He was a terrible person.
“Is that why you brought me a snow globe?” Daniel slung his bag onto the sofa on his way to the kitchen, flashing back a tiny smile. “Because you felt like it ended weird too?”
“In a way, yeah.” Abysmal. He was an abysmal person.
“I know I can be a lot.” Daniel refilled the water for the calla lilies, which needed a proper vase. Perhaps he didn’t have a proper vase, because he set them on the counter, arranging them around their plastic cup. “A lot .”
Now that Aaron had a closer inspection, Daniel probably needed a lot of proper things. If he were Daniel’s boyfriend, he’d buy him a utility basket to store his mail so it wasn’t falling off the counters and a hook to hang his keys so they weren’t currently sinking between the couch cushions. He’d do something with all these empty yogurt containers with the spoons still sticking out—get him a trash can?
If he had the chance, he’d take care of Daniel.
“And I know I can come on a bit strong,” Daniel said, “but if I ever overstep by demanding legal advice, or threatening to put a tracker on you, or handcuffing you to a radiator so you can never leave—”
“What?”
“What?”
Aaron cocked his head. “That last part?”
“Oh, who could say? The point is, I hope you know you can talk to me. I promise I can be rational.”
Aaron sighed and spoke the first honest words he’d spoken all evening. “You did nothing wrong, kid.” The least he could do after being a liar-y liar was make sure the contract looked sound, and he happened to know an unlawful amount of attorneys. “Look, uh. I’d love to help you with your contract.”
Daniel’s face lit up. “Seriously?”
“Of course. Where is it?” He spun around, trying to spot anything that looked like a contract. There were plenty of half-empty glasses of water and slinky black items of clothing. There were also one, two, three feather boas? Why?
“Oh, I don’t have it yet, but probably by the end of this week.”
“That’s fine. Give me your parking tickets too. I’ll take care of them.” And by take care , he’d pay them off.
Daniel squealed in an eek as he clapped. “You are the best. Now, what do you want to do tonight?”
“Clean.” He nodded with his hands on his hips as his gaze swept the living room. “I want to clean your house so hard. Was it like this the last time I was here?”
“No. I’d had enough sense to shove everything into the bedroom. I figured if you made it that far, it meant you’d be willing to ignore”—he gestured a hand down his body—“the mess.”
Aaron snorted as he glanced down at his watch. He had an appointment with a client in thirty minutes, and he’d done enough damage here. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I actually can’t stay, sweetheart. I have plans.”
“Cancel them.”
He darted his gaze up to Daniel’s to find it impish .
“You have plans.” Daniel glided toward him in satiny pouty lips and quicksilver. “I want to hang out with you. Fucking cancel them.”
This conversation felt familiar. You have a boyfriend. I want to take you out. Break up with him.
“Then we can watch a movie or go for a walk—”
“Clean? Could we clean?”
“I’d rather die, but we could listen to music and chill. We could get it on somewhere—literally anywhere; right here is fine—or we could even lie down and have a good cry on the linoleum if you want.” Daniel shrugged a shoulder. “But I feel like doing that less.”
Aaron chuckled.
“Oh, what about a board game?” Daniel’s eyes brightened. “I have Scrabble.”
He chewed his lower lip. Would it really be so bad to spend a little more time with him? To let himself enjoy him for one more night? They wouldn’t get it on , he’d be sure of that. He didn’t need to sleep with him on top of deceiving him. But he’d never gotten such a whole-body thrill out of someone’s company. If it was going to end anyway, what was the harm in savoring him for a little longer? It took him a moment bouncing on his heels, but eventually he gave in to his smiley sigh.
One more night. The minute he got the contract addressed, he’d bow out of Daniel’s life once and for all. One more night was the new plan. Totally a decent plan. The best.
“Let me just….” Aaron trailed off as he sent a Sry can’t make it text to his client, who was sure to be pissed, but it was only one more night. His smile split his face as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “I love Scrabble.”
SEVERAL HOURS later, Scrabble had turned into laughter, had turned into a movie, had turned into more laughter until Aaron felt a little high on it. He sat on the sofa with Daniel’s head on his lap, raking his fingers through his sandy curls. He even felt a bit high on the comfortable silence that finally ensued. It was peaceful after all the laughter. Peaceful instead of clunky.
“You know what I was just thinking?” Daniel asked without opening his eyes. “I was thinking about how you’ve made me dinner and taken me to a fun class thing, and I’ve done nothing. Should I plan a date for us? ”
“Hmm. I’m worried your idea of a date will involve zero food or entertainment and one hundred percent us ‘getting it on’ somewhere— literally anywhere; right here is fine —as you point to a tree stump in the woods.”
Daniel’s eyes shot open. “Have you been reading my diary?”
Aaron nodded. “And hey, I’m flattered to appear on every page, but honestly, Daniel, no one uses the term stud muffin anymore.”
Daniel’s lips curled into a smirk. “What about beefcake ?”
“Are you an eighty-year-old Southern woman? Leave the dates up to me.” He patted Daniel’s chest. “You just worry about looking cute and doing the thing boys like you do.”
“Boys like me ?” Daniel arched an eyebrow. “What do we do?”
He grinned as he twisted one of Daniel’s curls around his finger. “Pretend like you don’t see the check get dropped off.”
Daniel huffed in laughter. “Okay, I can’t even be insulted. I’m stealthy as hell at that.”
“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”
“So, when’s our next date, hmm?” Daniel reached up to dance his fingertips over Aaron’s lips. “You taking me out, mister?”
His smile faltered a bit. There for a beat, he’d almost forgotten that this —sitting here in his house, talking about the future, growing fonder of him by the minute—wasn’t reality. Reality was waiting for him outside like a skilled hitman.
One more date. He could enjoy him for one more date. No harm had ever come from a single date. Maybe he’d wait to deal with the contract until after the one more date, and then he’d leave him alone forever. That was the new plan. Brilliant at plans, he was.
He kissed Daniel’s fingertips. “I’d love to take you out, kid.”
“To your favorite tree stump in the woods?”
He continued kissing, smudging his mark over Daniel’s delicate wrist and arm. “To my favorite radiator.”
Daniel’s face split into an absurd grin. Way too wide. Way too elated. “I’ll bring the handcuffs.”