Chapter 27
AIDAN
Ihaven’t seen Covey since Christmas Day. It’s the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other since we reconnected. The only contact we’ve had is over text to make final arrangements for tonight.
All business.
I’ve spent the week adrift. With no school to force me out of bed in the morning, the highlight of my days has been rolling off the couch around midnight and climbing into bed. That or the pounds of Fritos I’ve managed to eat during that time. The perfect food to pair with wallowing.
In another week, I’ll have to pull myself together.
Kids can sniff out insecurities from a mile away.
And they have zero qualms about pointing them out.
The last thing I need is to explain this whole situation to them.
I’m giving myself another two days of bed rotting before I go back to a real schedule.
One that includes daily showering and changing out of my sweatpants.
Tonight doesn’t count, though I did manage to both shower and put on a suit.
It’s a requirement for this fundraising event.
When Covey first told me we were going to a New Year’s party, I thought it would be a small thing at his house.
Nope. This thing is a massive celebration and fundraiser for the Arts Council in Burlington.
Covey’s mom is on the hosting committee, so the rest of us attending is mandatory.
As is wearing a black suit, tie, and non-sneaker shoes. All of which I had to purchase for the event. My job doesn’t come with that type of dress code. If I’m going to chase five-year-olds around, I’m not doing it in wingtips.
This place is swanky. The museum lobby is unrecognizable with the oversized floral arrangements and silvery decorations.
It’s hard to believe this is the same place we bring students to on field trips.
Inside, I check my coat and wait for Covey.
We agreed to meet in the lobby tonight, and even though I’m ten minutes early, I search the area a few times to make sure he’s not waiting for me.
I wander back and forth—not pacing—pausing to take in some of the artwork and say hi to people I know. I’m drawn to a small landscape painting near the edge of the space. It’s the perfect image of the Green Mountains, blending the beauty of the trees with the harshness of the land.
“Hey.” I nearly jump out of my skin when a hand lands on my shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay. I was distracted by the art.” I wave toward the painting, not expecting much.
“It’s beautiful.” He tilts his head to one side, like he’s trying to puzzle it out. “You know, that’s one of the things I missed most when I was in Europe.”
“Don’t they have mountains there?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Of course, but not close to Amsterdam. The ones they do have are different. Vermont is special.”
Covey doesn’t need to add anything to that statement.
I know exactly what he means. Despite having spent my entire life here, I know how special it is here.
There’s something about Vermont that burrows deep in the soul and refuses to let go.
Travel is great, but I love getting back home, that first glimpse of the Green Mountains on the drive, the view of Lake Champlain. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.
I clear my throat a few times. “Ready?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I hesitate as I reach out to take his hands. At this point, whatever rules we had have gone out the window.
If Covey notices, he doesn’t say anything, simply interlaces his fingers between mine and heads for the spiral staircase that leads upstairs to the gallery where the event is being held. We take the steps in sync, silence between us save for the sound of our footsteps against the marble.
“You two look so nice tonight,” Edith says as soon as we get to the top of the steps. “Perfect little gentlemen.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Covey says, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.
I didn’t let myself really look at him downstairs, afraid of him seeing through me, but now, I can’t help but take in his sophisticated look.
His suit is worth at least three times what mine is and tailored to fit his body perfectly.
Not as good as those dance tights, but it shows off his muscles in a way I didn’t know a suit could.
“Why don’t you go get some champagne and cake.
Then you can look around and see if there’s anything you want to bid on.
” I can’t imagine my teacher’s salary allows me the chance to win anything in a silent auction, but I’m not about to turn down champagne.
I promised myself I wouldn’t have more than two drinks tonight, afraid loose lips will get me into trouble.
“Thanks, Mom.” Covey tugs at my arm and leads me toward a table with a tower of coupes, all barely managing to stay standing. It’s the kind of thing that looks pretty, but probably shouldn’t be anywhere near drunk people.
Covey grabs one of the glasses and hands it to me before getting one for himself. “I can finally have a drink,” he says, holding his glass up near mine. I clink them together before downing half of mine in one go.
This is quite a sendoff for our fake relationship.
A formal affair full of people wearing black suits and gowns, almost like they’ve come to the funeral for our short-lived experiment.
We walk around silently. Every time I attempt to come up with something to say, I find myself biting my lips, physically forcing myself to stay quiet.
There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t find the words.
“Hey, I see the Executive Director for GMBC. Is it okay if I go say hi?”
“Of course.” Honestly, a few minutes by myself sounds pretty good.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” I say, but he’s already halfway across the room.
“I’ll be here, staring at… this.” I’m not sure what it is, but the mix of colors and shapes makes me a little dizzy.
I appreciate art as much as anyone, but I swear I don’t get it.
Doesn’t matter if it’s the finger paintings of my students or fine art, my response is pretty much always the same.
I shiver a little before moving on to the next one, hoping maybe something will finally snap into place.
COVEY
“Hello, Rupert,” I say. I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew at the event.
Most of my dance friends are sleeping, finally getting a night to themselves.
That or they’ve snuck away for a few days of vacation.
Honestly, I’d rather be home in my bed, even though I know I’d never be able to sleep.
I’d likely be staring at the ceiling, replaying the last few months, figuring out where things went wrong.
“Mr. Gallagher, what a pleasant surprise.” His British accent is particularly strong, probably because of the champagne. Even the executive director deserves a night off after the last month. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“My mom is on the Board. She roped me into it.”
He nods knowingly. “How are you enjoying Burlington? You’re originally from here, correct?”
“Yes, sir.” Even outside the ballet studio, I feel unimportant next to him.
“I love being back in Vermont. Everyone at Green Mountain Ballet has been incredible, which helps.” That had been my biggest concern when I moved back.
I wanted to be close to family and an area I love, but that isn’t enough.
I worked so long to get to a point in my career where I could dance professionally; I couldn’t pass up good opportunities.
Especially knowing my years in this career are limited.
If I’m lucky, I’ve probably got another five or six years before I start thinking about retirement.
“And what about that man over there? The one that keeps glancing at you?” I crane my neck to see where he’s looking. My gaze lands on Aidan right as he turns away to examine a statue.
“Oh, um, he’s… a friend.” I know it’s the truth, but it feels like a lie as it passes over my lips.
“I see.” Rupert bites his lower lip. It’s the same mannerism he uses in the studio before he tells us exactly what we’re doing wrong.
“Well, I don’t want to interrupt your evening too much.
I’m here with my… friend.” As if on a cue, another man kisses him on the lips and hands him a new champagne coupe.
“Hello,” the newcomer says, extending his hand. “I’m Skye, Rupert’s husband.”
“Covey.” I shake his hand the best I can while we both balance our glasses.
“Covey is one of our newer dancers,” Rupert adds.
“Nice to meet you,” Skye says. “I was coming to fetch my husband. He’s needed for one of the items.”
Rupert sighs, but nods his head. “You and your friend enjoy the evening.”
I relax once they’re out of sight. Rupert is nicer than 90% of the administrators I’ve met over the years, but he still makes my heart beat a little faster. I look around to see where Aidan’s ended up, but I don’t see him anywhere. Instead, I find myself face-to-face with my mother.
“What was that about?” she asks.
“Just saying hello to someone.” I don’t have the patience to give her a full explanation. Not tonight.
“Why would you call Aidan your friend?” This whole lie started as a way to get through the holiday events. We got so close, but I can see the end beginning to unravel.
“Well, I…” Honestly, I can’t think of anything else to say. I’m out of good ideas, out of lies, and out of energy for this rouse. “He’s my friend, Mom. We aren’t… we aren’t dating. We made it up.”
“Well, I don’t buy that for one minute.”
Jesus. First, I have to convince her that we’re dating, now I have to convince her that I’m not? Is there no end in sight? “Well, it’s true.”
“Covey Arthur Gallagher.” I straighten up at the use of my full name. “That’s the biggest lie I have ever heard come out of your mouth. I’ve spent the last two months watching you two, and I can say with complete certainty that the two of you are in love. With each other.”
I don’t know what possesses me. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from all the performance or the pain of my heartbreak, but it all comes spilling out of me.
I tell her how I made up a boyfriend, how Aidan got sucked into the lie, and how he suggested pretending to be my boyfriend for the holidays.
“Except, I think I’ve been in love with him the whole time.
I can’t be in a fake relationship with Aidan, because all I want is for him to be mine. For real.”
“Covey.” She pulls me in for a hug, and I try not to get any of my tears on her satin dress. “I think things will work out.”
I huff out a breath. “You have to say that.”
“No, but I’ll ask you about it later.” She gives me a big smile. “Maybe tomorrow.”
AIDAN
“Covey?” His eyes go wide as he turns toward me. “Did you mean any of that?”
As soon as the words are out, I start to panic.
The question hangs between us with no way to take it back.
If the answer is no, I don’t think I’ll make it.
My heart can’t take anything else at this stage.
Someone will have to carry me out of here, probably after they find me catatonic in the bathroom.
“Never mind.”
“Aidan—”
“No, forget I asked.” I want to forget the last two months.
Maybe longer. If Silas is right, maybe I’ve been in love with Covey forever.
Even if the last few months didn’t happen, I might have ended up in this same position.
Eventually, he’d get a boyfriend, and I’d be forced to confront my feelings as I watched the two of them live happily ever after together.
At least when we get to that this time, I’ll have a head start on processing my emotions.
“Aidan—” Covey puts a hand on my shoulder, and I immediately pull away.
“Don’t. Please, don’t.”
“Aidan—” he says louder, drawing a few looks from other patrons. I slap my hand over his mouth, hoping he’ll get the point.
A devilish look crosses his face, one that should give me enough warning, but doesn’t. Before I react, he runs his tongue over my hand, licking a big stripe. “Covey!”
He shrugs as I pull my hand away. “Listen. Please.”
At this point, the alternative is that the two of us become some sideshow for the fundraiser.
I doubt Covey’s mom will appreciate us becoming a focus of the evening since we don’t generate any donations.
I sigh and grab his hand, pulling him into a side room.
It’s not empty, but at least there are fewer people around.
As a bonus, these patrons didn’t see our little show earlier, so they’re wholly uninterested in our conversation. “Fine. Go ahead.”
“Aidan, I didn’t mean for you to overhear that conversation.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s fine.”
“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t intend for you to overhear it, but that doesn’t make it not true.
I meant every word of it.” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.
“At some point in the last two months, I fell in love with you. And I might have been in love with you long before that. Maybe since that first day of kindergarten. And I know you don’t feel the same way—”
I don’t need to hear anymore. I grab him and lean in, pressing my lips to his. He gasps into my mouth before kissing me back. I don’t mean to do anything but shut him up, convey that I feel the same way, but now that I’m kissing him—for real—I’m not willing to stop.
“Get a room,” I hear someone hiss at us.
Covey buries his head in my neck, laughing softly.
“I told you so,” I say.
“Told me what?”
“That I’d kiss you first.” He pulls back and gives me a soft smile, one that’s so Covey my knees almost give out. I haven’t seen that big smile on his face in a few weeks. I didn’t realize how much I was missing it.
“But I beat you to saying I love you.” He pulls me down into another kiss, this one softer and less urgent.
“Seriously, guys.” A woman comes up behind us, hissing and shooting daggers in our direction. “This is a public event.”
“Want to get out of here?” Covey asks.
“Yeah.” My mind’s already dreaming up all the things I can do with him tonight, knowing he’s mine.
That this is the first of many times I hope to drag him into my bed and spend the evening drawing moans out of him.
“But first,” I say, grabbing his elbow and pulling him back close to me. “Tell me again.”
“I love you, Aidan. I’ve loved you for practically my whole life.”
“I love you, too.”