Chapter Twenty
Neither of them was in the mood for sex that night.
They also weren’t in the mood to be alone.
The nice thing about an actual relationship, Aubrey was finding, was that he didn’t have to be alone.
The flip side was that Nate took forever to fall asleep when he was stressed out and not getting laid, and Nate taking forever to fall asleep led to Aubrey being up until the wee hours after he dropped off, staring at the ceiling.
He had only barely managed to ask Nate to go on a date with him. Now he somehow had to gather the courage to have a talk about what would happen to their relationship if he moved to Vegas.
He’d been counting on having a little more time to get used to the whole having-a-boyfriend thing before he had to bring up long-distance versus cohabitation.
It was probably too soon to tell Nate he’d been thinking they should move in together, and the show had been sold, not canceled.
The new network could replace one or both of them…
or change nothing. And there wasn’t anything Aubrey could do about it.
He had almost decided to give up on the dream of sleep and go watch TV in the living room when Nate sighed, rolled over, and burrowed his face into the pillow. “Ice cream,” he said happily, obviously deep in a very pleasant dream.
Save some for me. If Nate could sleep with this much on his mind, so could he. That competitive athlete drive was still good for something after all, because so resolved, Aubrey finally drifted off.
He woke up to Nate sitting at the end of the bed, fully dressed, holding his phone loosely between his legs.
Aubrey hated feeling wrong-footed before he even stood up. “Hey,” he rasped. “Going somewhere?”
“Jess texted,” Nate said by way of explanation, holding his phone at chest height and waggling it for effect. “Wants to see me in her office at eleven.”
Me? That was probably a harbinger. “Just you?”
Nate shook his head. “Didn’t ask. Check your phone.”
She wanted to see him at ten thirty. Aubrey winced and looked at the clock. “Me first, I guess.”
Nate looked ashen. “You want to ride in together?”
Honestly, if this was going to go down the way Aubrey thought, he’d prefer to go home alone after and sulk. “I’m going to drive myself, I think. Text me after?”
Nate nodded, somber, hands clenching and unclenching around the phone. He looked like he wanted to say something—or do something—but in the end, he just stood up. “I’ll, um. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yeah.” Aubrey swung his legs out of bed, but Nate was already halfway out of the room. “Later.”
No one had ever broken up with Aubrey before, but he thought it probably felt a little like this.
The feeling persisted as he walked down the hallway toward Jess’s office.
The corridor was otherwise deserted. This floor was mostly offices, so Aubrey assumed everyone else was on set of whatever was currently filming.
That suited him fine, though. He didn’t need any witnesses to what he was sure was coming.
Jess’s office door was open, and she waved him inside when he knocked. “Close the door, please.”
Yeah, this wasn’t going to go well. It had been nice while it lasted, though. He closed the door and took the chair across the desk from her, the same one he’d sat in last night.
“I know you’re probably anxious to get started, so I’ll cut to the chase. I met with the ESBN show liaison first thing this morning.” She had the dark circles under her eyes to prove it too.
“Show liaison,” Aubrey echoed.
Jess grimaced. “My opinion? That’s what you get when you buy a show wholesale from another network and need someone to implement changes but aren’t ready to let the current showrunner go.”
“Ouch.” Whatever was coming, it wouldn’t affect just him. And unlike many other people who worked on the show, Aubrey had a fat trust fund and a job lined up. “So these changes. Let me guess. It’s the end of the line for me.”
Slowly, Jess shook her head. “I’m really sorry, Aubrey. If it’s any consolation, I thought you were great. A lot of people did.”
“But ESBN wants to go in a new direction.” It came out sounding only a little bitter.
“Technically speaking, I think they want to go in an old direction, but they’re afraid the show’s new fans will riot if they bring back John.”
Aubrey snorted. “Thank God for small mercies, I guess.” At least Nate wouldn’t have to go back to working with that asshole.
“I guess,” Jess echoed. Her shoulders slumped. “I have to say, you’re taking this better than I thought.”
He was, Aubrey realized with a start. Therapy must really be good for something. “I mean, the writing was on the wall. The good ol’ boys at ESBN, they’re not ready to cede serious hockey air time to a flamboyant former figure skater. Frankly, I’m surprised they’re keeping Nate.”
Then again, they didn’t know Nate like Aubrey did now. Maybe the new Nate would end up canned just like Aubrey.
“Yeah,” Jess said, somewhat grim. But then she made a visible effort to rally.
“Look, I know you and I, and you and Nate, got off on the wrong foot. But I just want to let you know how much I appreciate the work you put in since then. The show finally became all the things I knew it could be. It sucks that it’s ending like this, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t feel great to get here. ”
Aubrey’s throat felt suddenly thick. “Thanks for giving me a chance, and then a second chance. This has been… the best kind of challenge, and I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”
They shook hands.
“What about the rest of the crew?” Aubrey asked. He genuinely liked the staff. He hoped Carl wouldn’t be suddenly jobless at his age.
“My understanding is they’re keeping everyone until after the Cup Final, just because it’s too much hassle to change things midseason. I have the impression they want to move filming to New York or LA.”
“LA would make sense if they want to cover all the night’s games from start to finish.”
“Plenty of studio space there too. HQ’s in New York, though.”
Would Nate like New York? He barely drove in Chicago; driving in NYC would make him nuts—though he wouldn’t really have to. But his staunch Midwestern friendliness would suffocate and die.
Aubrey wondered what Nate would think about Vegas.
“Aubrey?”
He shook himself. “Sorry. I was just imagining Nate relocating to New York.”
“Lord. We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.
” She sighed. “Look, this isn’t how either of us wanted your stint on the show to go.
But that’s not your fault. If you ever need a character reference, or if you see a broadcasting job you think a word from me would help you land, drop me a line, yeah? ”
Aubrey blinked. “Seriously? After my first day on the job?”
“Believe me, no one’s more surprised about this than I am. I don’t know what was going on with you that day, but it obviously wasn’t representative of who you are. We’re going to miss you. Especially Nate, weirdly enough.”
For the first time that day, Aubrey had the impulse to smile and mean it. Without the show, he and Nate had no reason to hide their relationship. Maybe something good could come of this after all.
Assuming the idea of him and Nate lasted through the collapse of their jobs together and a potential long-distance relationship, of course.
“Thanks,” he managed. “I’ll miss you too.”
Nate thought he had prepared himself for the worst right up until the moment he stepped off the elevator on Jess’s floor and saw her saying goodbye to Aubrey outside her office.
He didn’t want to believe it. But he knew Aubrey well enough, and he knew to look for the cocksure stance, the smirk always hiding around the corner of his mouth. They were missing.
His heart sank.
Aubrey and Jess turned and saw him at the same time.
Jess had a decent poker face after thirty years in showbiz, and Aubrey normally did a passable job.
But before he could school his features, Nate cataloged the defeat in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders.
He even had his hands in his pockets. Aubrey never did that.
He must be trying to keep from a reflexive crossing of his arms—a classic defensive posture.
For the second time in two years, the ground beneath Nate’s feet felt like it had shifted, leaving him off-balance and unsure.
Nate was starting to hate not knowing where he stood.
“Tell me you’re kidding,” he said heavily before he could stop himself.
It wasn’t fair. He’d dealt with John for almost three years. Aubrey had been a breath of fresh air. Aubrey had made him really love his job again in a way he hadn’t since he left the ice.
Jess took a step forward. “Nate—”
His feet wanted to go backward—back into the elevator, down to the ground floor, out into a Lyft. Home where he could pretend this wasn’t happening. Thank God he still had some pride left. He held his ground. “The show is doing the best it’s ever done!”
“I know,” Jess said.
“Because Aubrey is perfect for this job!” He knew about hockey, sure. But in reality, the cohost’s job was to act as a foil for Nate, help the audience learn who he was. They humanized each other—humanized the game. “I just got him broken in.”
“I know,” Jess repeated gently. “It wasn’t my decision. I’m sorry, Nate.”
Fuck sorry. Nate had never had much of a temper. Even when he was on the ice, even in the highest-stakes games, he generally kept a cool head. But his blood was boiling now. “They can’t do that.” The words came out hot and venomous.
Jess did a double take, but she recovered quickly. “Didn’t think you’d feel so strongly about it, but yeah, they can do whatever they want.”
“It’s in my contract,” Aubrey explained quietly.
Damn it. “But why? Why would they?” Except Nate knew why. Jess knew too. “Right,” he said acidly. “That’s the bonus of having two gay hosts, I guess. You can fire one and still claim it’s not discrimination.”
“Kindly watch your tone and your insinuations when you’re standing in the middle of the hallway.
” The flush across Jess’s cheeks let him know his anger was contagious.
She didn’t like this any more than he did, but the steel in her voice made it clear she wasn’t going to let him steamroll her either.
“This is a little bigger than just Aubrey. Those shows over Thanksgiving, those were part of the test phase. New format. New cohost.”
Oh Jesus. “Who in their right mind would rather watch Paul than Aubrey?”
“Nate.” Aubrey put a hand on his arm.
Jess’s eyebrows hit her hairline.
Motherfucker. Nate gritted his teeth. Aubrey’s hand dropped to his side.
“Why don’t you come in?” Jess said finally, “and we can continue this conversation behind closed doors.” Then she turned to Aubrey. “Good luck, okay? You’ll be great. And I’ll look you up if I’m ever in town.”
Ever in town? Where was she going?
Or was the question: Where were they going?
Aubrey glanced sideways at Nate, the color washing out of his cheeks. “You better,” he said to Jess, and they shook hands. He turned to leave and touched Nate’s elbow on the way by. “I’ll see you at home, okay?”
He kept his voice quiet, but Nate knew Jess wouldn’t have missed it. He couldn’t be bothered to keep up a pretense either. There was no point now. He nodded.
When the door closed behind him, he took a moment to close his eyes and reach for calm. This wasn’t Jess’s fault. Or Aubrey’s. Or his own.
It just sucked.
“I didn’t realize you two had gotten so close,” Jess said quietly.
Nate swallowed and forced himself to sit, not quite ready to meet her gaze. “Yeah, well. He sneaks up on you.”
“I guess so.”
He cleared his throat. Whatever else he was dealing with, this was a business meeting, and he was a professional. He wasn’t going to quit just because he didn’t get his way. “So. Tell me about the new show.”