Say It Again

Chapter Twenty

“HI. I’M trying to reach Mr. Daniel Greene. This is Will McCoy, your personal loan operator with Summit One Loans. I regret to inform you that we were unable to approve your application at this time. Again, Will McCoy. Reach out with any questions.”

It was nine days later, and Daniel had noticed he was gone. It was in the coffee that wasn’t brewed in the morning and the cold side of the bed at night. It was in the lack of sex, because when Aaron was home, he was too tired. No blue ice as the first thing he saw when he woke and last thing he pictured before he fell asleep. Well, that wasn’t true. Aaron was still the last thing he pictured before he fell asleep, but it wasn’t like he could even tell him that. He wasn’t there.

But today, none of that mattered. None of that mattered, because he’d been really good so far about not having a meltdown—everything was fantastic!—not to mention, today they were having the interior design conversation.

Aaron had chosen a restaurant that was white-tableclothed, sterling-wared, and way too swanky for both of them to be sitting on one side of the table, hovering over Daniel’s first-edition laptop. A coffee shop would’ve been better, but at least Aaron was his for the entire night.

If only he weren’t so fucking droopy.

“Hey.” He whacked Aaron in the arm when he yawned for the second time in two minutes. “Are you paying attention?”

“Yes.” Aaron rubbed his eyes and blinked at Daniel’s computer screen, where a breathtaking PowerPoint presentation had been executed. It’d taken him over three hours. He was going with breathtaking as the modifier. “What am I looking at? ”

“These are all of the interior design programs in the city. Look.” He pointed to the screen. “The community college even has one”—he jazz fingered for emphasis—“and hello affordability.”

“Where is our waiter?” Aaron leaned back in his chair and scoped the restaurant. “I ordered champagne.”

“What? When did you do that?”

“When you were off fixing your makeup.”

“First of all, it’s not makeup, it’s under-eye highlighter.”

“It looks sexy.” Aaron pressed his face into Daniel’s cheek and grinned. “You’re dazzling.”

“And second of all….” He nudged Aaron away, even though he couldn’t help but smile at that silly dazzling business. “I’m only wearing it because we’re going dancing later. We’re still dancing after this, right?”

“I missed you while you were gone doing your under-eye makeup,” Aaron whispered onto his neck, stretching his arm across Daniel’s chair. “I always miss you—”

“Your champagne, sir,” said a waiter, materializing with a bottle of something that looked French-made and uneconomical.

“Perfect.” For doing what he did, Aaron was usually more reserved in public than this, but it was like his exhaustion had lowered his inhibitions. “We’ll get some appetizers too. What do you want, kid? Oh, just send ’em all. We’ll get every appetizer on the menu.”

“What? No—!” He’d tried, but Aaron covered his mouth with his hand.

“He’s fine.” Aaron grinned at the waiter. “One of each. No big deal.”

The waiter skidded off and Aaron finally uncovered his mouth. To Daniel’s look , he yanked his chair in, scooting him closer. Up close, his eyes were a bit red-rimmed and glassy like he’d been awake forty-eight hours.

“Are you going to look at my presentation?” he asked, picking an eyelash off Aaron’s cheek. “I made a whole damn presentation.”

“Of course I’m going to look at it.” Aaron handed him a glass of champagne and snagged the other, clinking them together. “But does it have to be this second? I just miss you, and I want to enjoy an evening out with my boyfriend where I don’t have to worry about”—he tipped his head toward the computer—“this stuff. Is that too much to ask?”

Daniel pursed his lips. “This stuff ?”

“I didn’t mean it, ya know, dismissively, or whatever. My bad. I just want to enjoy a night with you where you’re happy to be with me and not trying to change me. ”

“Trying to….” Daniel trailed off, his eyes rounding. He wasn’t doing that, was he? He was trying to open Aaron’s eyes about his options, his worth, but he wasn’t trying to change him .

Unless trying to change what he did was trying to change him . That possibility stung a little. Like the way Robert Greene insisted Daniel need a different career. A better one. One that was respectable.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said, kneading the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired, but you haven’t done anything wrong. I promised I would look at it. Let’s look at it.”

“Why are you so tired?”

“Because I don’t think Marco sleeps. He works so late and gets up so early. It’s nonstop, and I work with him. I admire him. He’s a freaking machine, but I just wasn’t expecting—” Aaron suddenly startled at whatever Daniel’s face was doing. “Shit. But let’s not talk about him. I didn’t mean to talk about him. Are you okay?”

That was a solid question. Was he okay? Insisting they didn’t talk about it, squashing even his own thoughts before they formed, might have been a long-term plan with a few splinters in the foundation. Not that he would have a meltdown about it—everything was fantastic!—but learning that Aaron admired this person he’d been spending so much time with. Learning he was a freaking machine was an added layer he didn’t quite know how to shed.

“Yes, I’m okay.” He gulped, squashing the thoughts before they could form. “Everything’s fantastic.”

“I’m batting one thousand here, aren’t I?” Aaron’s smile was weak, and his long eyelashes looked like a jungle with all the rubbing he’d been doing. “Okay, we’ll eat, we’ll drink, you’ll show me this presentation, then we’ll go out dancing. Sound good?”

He let his gaze sweep Aaron’s pretty face, smoothing a hand through his hair. Aaron nestled into his palm, his eyes softening shut. “We don’t have to go dancing.”

“Really?” Aaron perked up a bit. “We can go home and cuddle?”

Daniel uncorked his dramatic eyeroll, just to make it clear that no dancing and cuddling in lieu of other, way more fun bed-related activities wasn’t his first choice. “Yes, we can go home and cuddle—”

“Aaron.” A specimen of a man suddenly stood by their table, wearing a terrified expression .

The color emptied from Aaron’s face. He stood in a big enough fluster to clink glasses, splashing champagne on the table.

Tall, lean, tailored and absolutely striking, the guy had this polished-beyond-fairness look. He said quietly through his teeth, “I need you to not be here right now. My colleague is in the restroom.”

“Shitshitshit,” Aaron said, grabbing their jackets. “Okay, kid. Come on. Wait, my check—”

“Go. I’ll cover your check.”

“What?” Daniel asked, as Aaron hauled him out of the chair by his arm. “Who are you?”

“My apologies to you both,” the guy said to him, flashing him a rueful smile. Even amidst the chaos, something about him was so calm and commanding. “I’ll make sure your time with him is covered as well.”

“My boyfriend,” Aaron coughed under his breath, shaking his head at the guy.

“Oh.” The guy turned to Daniel once again, his eyebrows lifted, shock written all over his face. “Then I’m ultra sorry to ruin your evening. Thank you for your grace. I can only imagine the caliber of character you must possess.”

What the hell? Who spoke like that? Daniel didn’t have time to respond before Aaron was pushing him toward the exit, murmuring, “I’ll explain later,” over and over.

“Well, hold on—wait. My laptop.”

“Dammit,” Aaron hissed as they pushed through the doors. “Wait right here. Don’t move.”

The moment was too disorienting for questions, so Daniel followed his instructions, shuffling onto the street. For better or worse, he had clear view of the table where they’d just been evicted, where the stakes felt sky-high as Aaron jogged back to rescue the laptop.

He didn’t make it.

A woman in a cream business suit on her way from the bathroom touched his arm. He spun around and smiled. He also smiled at the striking guy who stood from his table in the corner to join them.

Daniel could’ve kicked himself. He should’ve gone back to get the laptop. Not Aaron .

Aaron who was suddenly so casual-looking. Aaron who circled an arm around Striking Guy’s waist and kissed his cheek. Striking Guy grinned sheepishly, dropping his head, shrugging while the woman in the cream suit seemed to fawn over them.

Who wouldn’t fawn over them? They looked perfect together. Perfect . Both tall and elegant. Two put-together A-list actors in a movie where Daniel was an extra, standing on the cold sidewalk looking in. He could look but not touch.

Aaron waved the laptop in the air and tipped his head toward the door, like Man, wish I could stay, but I have soooo much work to do. He and Striking Guy exchanged wistful smiles as he left. Wish I could stay. At least I’ll get to see you later.

Once outside, Aaron’s smile vanished as he locked eyes with him, risking a quick glance at the window. “Walk,” he whispered. “They can still see. Walk to the car ahead of me.”

Daniel didn’t budge, but he didn’t know why. “Who’s that guy?”

“That’s Marco,” Aaron whispered. “Walk, please.”

“What?” Daniel’s eyes widened as disbelief cluttered his intellect. “ That’s Marco? That’s who you’ve been spending all of your time with? And staying the night with?”

Aaron’s gaze sharpened a touch. He suddenly dashed past him until he reached the end of the window, shielded by brick. Then he gestured hurriedly for him to follow, but Daniel shook his head.

“Well, no wonder you don’t want to come home.” His breath was starting to swell, but was it anger? No. Desperation? “He’s so charming. The caliber of character you must possess. So well-spoken. He’s stunning, Aaron. You didn’t mention he was stunning.”

“Daniel,” Aaron hissed. “I’m asking you to please walk. Get over here.”

Daniel’s gulp was about as dry as it could get as he gazed into the restaurant. If that was Marco, then that was everything he wasn’t. In a few ill-starred seconds, he’d discovered his personal antithesis: prestigious, smart, composed, and elegant. But probably most importantly, rich. “What do you admire about him?”

“What?”

“That’s what you said. That you admire him. What does that mean? What do you admire so much?”

“Fucking walk! ”

Daniel stared helplessly at Aaron, his insecurities, the dreadful creatures they were, starting to scratch at him with their claws. “No.”

“What?”

“Come get me.”

Aaron looked like he didn’t know what to do, his eyes huge and his mouth opening and closing the way it was.

Daniel swayed side to side, stealing glances at Marco. He and the woman in the cream suit had an unobstructed view of him if they wanted it. He hoisted his chin. “If you don’t have feelings for him then it doesn’t matter if you lose him as a client. So if you want me, come get me.”

“I can’t even believe—you are putting me in an impossible situation right now,” Aaron whisper-shouted. “Get. The fuck. Over here.”

Daniel was a little out of control of his body, his head shaking all on its own the way it was and his heartbeat rapid enough to throb the back of his throat. He’d never wanted distance from Aaron before. Distance meant he wasn’t going anywhere with him. Certainly not home and certainly not to cuddle. Distance meant that maybe everything was not fantastic.

He bounced on his heels until he’d summoned the nerve to split in the opposite direction.

“Daniel!”

Distance meant he was going dancing.

THE MUSIC sucked. The air in the club sucked too. Like stale and dingy house vodka and cigarette smoke leftover from the 1990s. Daniel tried to dance. He tried to shut his eyes and let his body get lost in a parade of bass, but the guys. Ugh, the guys. Every few minutes, someone would fondle his stomach, face, or hips. One guy even tried to haul him into a “kiss.” Which was more like a wet assault to his cheek. No one would bother him if Aaron were here. Probably because they’d be all over Aaron instead.

Whatever. He shoved his way toward the bar. He needed a drink.

Unfortunately, the bar, a stupid-busy horseshoe-shaped cluster, was the kind of place where he wasn’t nearly tall enough to be noticed. If Aaron were here, they’d get a drink right away. If Aaron and Marco were here together, people would line up for the chance to buy them a cocktail, wait their turn for an autograph from the two A-listers. They’d kiss for the cameras, and Aaron would flip it: We have to promote the movie, sweetheart. You know, the one where you’re an extra?

Daniel smeared his hands over his face hard enough for it to sting.

“Daniel Greene,” someone said from beside him in a deep British accent.

Daniel snapped his arms by his sides and focused his vision. No, it wasn’t just anyone with a British accent, polar-white smile, and fanned peacoat that he wore like a cape, and why would it be? So not only was he clashing with Aaron and involuntarily sober, but now he was standing next to Yellow Jacket. And involuntarily sober.

“Don’t you look lovely,” Corey said, making a show of examining Daniel’s backside. “How’s the studio purchase coming?”

“Fine,” he lied, crossing his arms. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him; he didn’t have a reason to not trust him. It was that he really didn’t fucking trust him.

“Where’s your man? He here?” Corey gazed around the club. “Or did that bomb terribly after you found out he’s a whore?”

“Hey.” Daniel rounded his eyes and glared. “Don’t call him that.”

“Oh, is he not indeed a whore?” Corey tilted his head to the side. “Thought that was old news.”

“Well, no.” He scratched his head. “No. He’s an escort—it’s like, different—and he’s not here.”

“He’s not?” Corey asked, head still tilted. “Well, then someone needs to buy you a drink, pretty boy. What would you like? Anything you wish.”

Daniel didn’t necessarily want a drink from him , but what was that thing about beggars and choosers? It might be his only chance. To his reluctant nod, Corey whistled over his head at someone.

A waiter bounced up in a miniature leather outfit that hugged his bones. “Hi, Mr. Hutton.” His voice was light and breathy as he thrust his chest forward and exposed his neck, ignoring Daniel’s existence altogether. “Did you need something?”

“Hi, kitten.” Corey’s gaze skated down the guy’s outfit. “You get cuter every time I see you. Show me. Do a little spin.”

The waiter twirled around a few times—terrible form—as Corey rummaged through his wallet. He plucked a few bills and handed them over. “Get young Daniel Greene here whatever he’d like, and you keep the change. ”

The guy bit his lip and smiled uncontrollably at Corey. Then it was almost comical how swiftly the smile died when he turned to Daniel. With less breathiness and more stank-eye, he rolled his palm and said, “What do you want?”

“Oh, uh. Vodka soda?”

“Shocking,” the guy mumbled, then grinned over his shoulder at Corey. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Hutton. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Do not get me wrong,” Corey said in a low voice as he leaned over a high-top table and winked at the waiter slinking away. “I’ll absolutely be rearranging his insides later, but between you and me, I prefer a bit more of a challenge than that.”

Daniel flicked his gaze upward. “It’s because you have money.”

Corey drew back to peer at him. “Pardon?”

“The only reason he’s all over you is because you look like you have money.” He couldn’t help it. Something about Yellow Jacket wanted to unearth the spice in him. “You should take what you can get.”

Corey smiled, his chin resting in his palm. “Well, thank God men like him exist. Men like Aaron.”

Daniel blinked down at the floor. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be here having a sass-off with a near stranger. He should be at home sorting out whatever he was feeling with Aaron.

“Does talking about him make you uncomfortable?” Corey asked.

“Of course not.”

“Then what is it, love? What’s wrong? Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise.”

Daniel tugged on his earlobe.

“You two young lovers in a quarrel? Can’t imagine what it’s possibly about.”

“No.” Was it a lie? Or were two sides of the coin somehow both true: He’d backed Aaron into a corner by asking him to come get him . At the same time, Aaron hadn’t come to get him.

“It wasn’t a quarrel,” he said. “I needed a minute of space is all.”

The waiter returned with their drinks. It was impressive how he side-eyed Daniel at the same time he giggled for Corey .

“Cheers, darling.” Corey clinked their glasses together. “May you find some fellow out there in the crowd and let some steam off down his throat.”

Wow. Daniel had to blink hard. And he thought he was crude. “I thought we just established I’m in a relationship.”

Corey shot him a bizarre look. “Well, yeah, but a relationship where you get to be with other men, I would assume.”

Daniel swigged half his drink.

“You do get to be with other men, correct?” Corey asked, raising one eyebrow.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else.” It was nothing to be embarrassed by, but his shoulders were trying to round protectively. He cleared his throat and squared them. “I only want to be with him.”

“You only want to be with….” Corey trailed off, staring for a long beat. “Wow, this man has figured it out, hasn’t he? He’s a whole lot sharper than I gave him credit for.”

Daniel finished his drink and winced, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“So, let me ask you a question.” Corey leaned over the table and furrowed his brow like he’d never had a more fascinating discussion. “What do you do?”

“What do I do ? Like, for work? I dance—”

“No, not for work. While he’s out enjoying life. Fancy dinners, expensive hotels, parties, and shopping sprees. The list goes on.” Corey tapped a finger on the table in front of him. “What do you do?”

“Well.” Daniel swallowed. His words were suddenly oddly jumbled. “I don’t know. I guess I wait for him to come home, and then—”

“I’m sorry?” Corey asked with squinted eyes and an ear tilted toward him as if to be sure he heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, but you ‘wait for him’? Is that what you said?”

Daniel blinked. He’d also frozen in place. That was what he’d said, but when he replayed it, it sounded… sad.

“Oh, darling.” Corey rumbled in chuckles. “So while he’s out doing as he wishes, hopscotching the city. While he’s out fucking anyone he wants?” He paused for effect. “You wait.”

Daniel stammered around an argument, but it was like he was a different extra on a different set that’d been directed to please remain still. No talking. “H-he’s not. It’s not like that— ”

“Countless men, every single week, yours truly included.” Corey pointed a finger toward his chest. “And you, Daniel Greene, wait for him.”

His inner voice was screaming, but he couldn’t make it make sense, and his tongue had been shocked still. No talking.

“What does he do when he finally gets home?” Corey cocked his head, his lips twisting into a crooked smirk. “Does he get to fuck you next?”

Daniel was suddenly drowning in the music. In the bass and the garbled screams from inside his head. No talking. You’re just an extra.

“And to be so pretty.” Corey grazed his fingers down Daniel’s cheek. “That’s the part that hurts me. You’re too pretty to be so loyal to someone who isn’t loyal back. Who can’t be.”

Daniel clenched his teeth tight to keep them from chattering.

“If you want my opinion?” Corey gently rubbed his arm and lowered his voice. “Whatever hope you’re holding on to, let it go. He won’t ever be loyal to you, love.”

It was happening. Three. Two. One. He hated it. Who he was. Too much. He was too much. Three. Two. One. Why couldn’t he have thicker skin? If he was going to panic, he needed to find a way to be alone. Three. Two. One. His heart was lumbering too loud to think, and his legs were cemented in place. He nearly tipped the stool over, but he did it. He stood.

“Taking off so soon?” Corey was grinning, polar white and uncomfortable. “Well, please give Aaron my love, won’t you? Tell him I can’t wait to see him next week.”

HE HAS figured it out, hasn’t he? Daniel’s body was flooded with a slow-burning rage that seared a little hotter the longer he stood at his front door. He couldn’t tell who he was angry toward. Corey for being right. Aaron for having figured it out . Or himself. Because what a fucking fool.

While he’s out enjoying life. You, Daniel Greene, wait for him.

Of course he’d been holding on to hope. Of course everything wasn’t fantastic. The question that rankled as much as it daunted: Was it time to let go ?

He pushed open the door of their apartment, and Aaron shot up from where he’d been hunched over the kitchen island. If he looked tired before, he was absolutely fried now.

They both stared the other down in a clenched standstill, until Aaron finally broke the silence, his voice thick and stressed. “I’ve been calling you nonstop. Where have you been?”

He won’t ever be loyal to you, love. Daniel started toward the bedroom. “I don’t want to talk right now—”

“No.” Aaron blocked his path. “It doesn’t work like that. I’ve been sitting here worried half to death because you storm off, then refuse to answer your phone. Where the hell have you been?”

Daniel raked a hand through his hair and stepped around him. “Out.”

“Out?” Aaron paced in front of him again. “That’s not an answer.”

He hoisted his chin and sharpened his gaze, laser focusing on blue ice. You, Daniel Greene, wait for him. “So let me get this straight. You get to go do whatever you want, and I’m just supposed to do what? Sit here waiting for you all night?”

Aaron narrowed his eyes. “You’re supposed to answer your phone when I call over and over. You’re my boyfriend. Since when do we treat each other that way?”

Daniel twitched. He needed to be alone. Space. He needed space. “I’m telling you, I don’t think we should talk right now. I don’t trust myself not to say something—”

“Well, I do think we should talk.” Aaron stepped in front of his path again. “First you pull that shit at the restaurant, and then you go out ? What’s gotten into you?”

The words were already there, burning his throat. If he didn’t get alone and find some way to decompress, he was going to vomit them out everywhere.

“Say something,” Aaron said.

“Quit.”

Aaron studied his face for a long several seconds.

“I want you to quit escorting for me. Tonight. Right now.”

“What?” Aaron’s shocked voice was barely there. “Daniel. How’s that’s a fair request? ”

“Excuse me, fair?” His blood was starting to swelter. “It’s not fair ? I think what’s not fair is continuing to screw other men when it’s clearly killing me.”

“Oh, it’s killing you? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure that’s not just you being wildly overdramatic as usual? You don’t even see it, Daniel. I go out of my way to shield you from it. To make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m not okay! And you won’t even consider doing anything else because you’re so obsessed with money. You’re obsessed .”

“Okay, yeah, kid. You caught me.” Aaron flopped his arms by his sides. “I care about money. But someone has to. Who do you think pays the bills around here?”

“Hey.” He jammed a finger toward Aaron’s chest. “I was paying my bills just fine before you.”

“No, sweetheart. You were not even eating before me. Take a look around.” Aaron spread his arms and spun in a half circle. “Are you going to pay for it? With what? With all your dance studio money? Oh, wait.”

“Ugh!” Daniel screeched through his teeth as white-hot rage pulsed through his veins. If Aaron wasn’t going to let him be alone, then Aaron was going to have to deal with the extinction of his logical mind. “You know, you’re right. I should really make more money. I know, what if I get paid to bang dudes?”

Aaron expression transformed into a hollow glare.

“Oh, you wouldn’t like that? Why not? It’s good enough for you. It’s the only thing you’re capable of doing, right?” Daniel shrugged. “Yeah, I think I’ll give it a shot.”

A muscle in Aaron’s jaw danced.

“In fact, I bet I have guys in my phone who would pay for it right now. Should we find out?” Of course, he sounded deranged, but he was too far gone down a spiraling black hole not to dig his phone from his pocket and start scrolling through contacts. He twisted the screen toward Aaron and pointed to a name. “I went on one date with this guy. One date and he sent me text after text for three whole months that I never responded to. I bet he’d pay.”

Aaron shook his head. “Not cute.”

Daniel scrolled farther. “Oh, this guy definitely would. God, this guy would murder his own twin brother to get with me. ”

“That’s enough.”

“And what’s funny—” Daniel laughed. “—the twin would do the same. Can you imagine? Holy déjà vu.”

“I said. Enough.”

“Ooh, but see this one.” He growled. “This one right here has a painfully sexy Italian accent—”

“Stop.”

“Stop here? Okay.” Daniel winked and pressed Call, switching to speakerphone. “The Italian it is.”

“My, my, my,” a man answered after a few rings, his words heavily accented. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”

“Aww,” Daniel said with a smile at Aaron. “Miss me?”

The guy’s deep laughter cut through the kitchen. “Every damn day. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m glad you asked,” he said, holding Aaron’s gaze. “I’m thinking of starting a little side hustle. Curious if you’d be interested.”

“What kind of a side hustle?”

“Hmm. Let’s put it this way. It involves you and that beautiful uncut cock—”

Aaron snatched the phone, ended the call, and stuffed it into his back pocket.

“What’s wrong, Aaron? Does that not feel so good?”

Aaron stared at him, wide-eyed. “No, it didn’t feel good . In fact, it felt manipulative, intentional, and cruel!”

“Give me my phone.”

“The difference between you and me is I don’t try to hurt you.”

“Yet you still do. Every single day. And you can’t even tell me you love me?” Tears tried to sting his eyes, but for once he had more anger than sorrow coursing through his body, and it wasn’t about to let them fall. “You can’t say that to me? Just once?”

Aaron’s lips parted as his face crumbled in pain.

“Say it to me.”

“I—” Aaron’s eyes darted around the room in panic as if the words he needed were written on the walls. He hunched his shoulders and rounded his spine, like he could suddenly throw up. “I-I-I can’t. I need more time.”

“Time’s up.” He charged Aaron’s pocket. “Give me my phone.”

“All I do for you. Every day. I’m so fucking good to you.” Aaron dodged his grasps, fighting him off. “I take care of you. ”

“Keep it.” Daniel stormed off toward the bedroom, calling back over his shoulder, “And you take better care of your clients than me.”

Aaron trailed closely behind. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—” Daniel whipped around, and Aaron nearly ran into his chest. They hadn’t been this close since he got home, and he could almost feel the heat on Aaron’s skin as they both labored for breath, standing way too near and way too still not to feel it .

It —whatever it was—ignited between them almost dangerously. Like a calm pool of gasoline inching toward a molten inferno.

“What?” Aaron hissed, bending his head to grip his gaze. “It means what? That whatever I do to help you goes unappreciated? Because you’re an ungrateful fucking brat?”

Daniel heard his own teeth scrape together. “Just like whatever I do to help you also goes unappreciated. Because you’re a materialistic cash king.”

“I’m sorry you’re a starving artist, sweetheart, and wealth makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry you have to make your living by the grace of more successful men. That must be a hard pill to swallow .”

Aaron’s placid expression contrasted against his wild eyes in a way that made him look unrecognizable. “It’s not. By comparison, you make me feel pretty good about my living.”

“Oh? Because of how ‘starving artist’ mine is?”

“Because I could buy that studio out from under you. Tomorrow if I wanted.”

Fresh fury washed over Daniel.

“I should buy it. Then you could just work for me.” Aaron crowded into him farther. “Would that be a hard pill to swallow?”

He shook his head while they pierced one another with their gazes. This man. How dare this man stand here breathing Daniel’s air. How could he say that? How ? Surely he didn’t fucking mean it, because it’d be absurd, not to mention unforgivable, but then this entire night had been absurd. Not to mention unforgivable.

He moistened his lips and Aaron’s gaze plunged to his mouth. Even with his features seared to memory, he’d never seen Aaron look quite like this—compulsive, unbalanced, electrically charged. Angry? That was it. He’d never seen him angry.

“Come closer,” Daniel said. There had to have been something broken inside of him to ask that. To want it .

Aaron hesitated, but then he did it. He leaned in closer. There had to have been something broken inside of him to oblige.

“Closer.”

Aaron shifted his weight. He bowed his head deep enough that the heat from his breath misted Daniel’s face and Daniel could reach him with his tongue if he wanted to.

At least the two broken pieces fit together. They each whimpered when Daniel brushed Aaron’s lips with his, the gasoline a crawl away from the inferno.

Daniel peered up through his lashes and whispered into Aaron’s mouth, “Fuck you. Kiss me.”