Chapter Thirteen
IT’D BEEN an entire week since Daniel discovered the news about Aaron, and he was still having frequent and dramatic meltdowns about it. He itched for the studio’s last student to leave so he could commence another. (Meltdown number nineteen? Twenty-two? Three hundred?)
The second they left, he sprawled across a bench in the window with one arm draped over his forehead and the other limp to the floor like a CSI dumpster body, and moaned at full volume. He summoned his most pitiful voice and said, “I don’t think I can carry on.”
“Is that permission to kill you?” Olivia asked from behind the counter, where she stood sweeping the floor. “Man, that’d be great. Then you’d stop talking about it.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “Do it. You can use the broom. Or I think Madeline has a nail file back there. Just make it quick.”
“It’s been seven freaking days, Daniel. If it’s driving you that nuts, just respond to him.”
“Yeah, let me get right on that. Did I mention he’s a hooker?” He lifted his head and shouted, “A hooker, Olivia!”
“I know, and I just have so many questions. I’ll name them in no particular order.” She stopped sweeping to begin ticking off fingers. “One, how much does he charge? Two, will he break up payment between credit cards—scratch that. Do you think he’ll accept a very heartfelt IOU? And three, I’m not saying the ‘back door’ isn’t ‘open for business.’” She was using way too many air quotes. “But does he, by chance, do ‘front’ or ‘side door’ stuff?”
His gaze wandered. “What would be considered the ‘side door’?”
“Lastly, how does one sign up? Is there an app or something?”
Daniel shot upright to fire a menacing glare. “Oh, I’m glad this is so fun for you.”
“It is.”
“Because it’s not freaking fair.” He summoned his whiniest voice. The one he used for police officers pulling him over or the bank teller in charge of canceling overdraft fees. “There is finally a gorgeous guy who I genuinely like, and he’s a fucking gigolo ?”
The weight of the word “gigolo” hung in the air like a sex-working balloon while he and Olivia found themselves in an unofficial staring contest over it. Which didn’t last long. All it took was for him to silently mouth “gigolo” once more for Olivia to erupt into laughter.
His own laughter followed, ridiculous and real until his stomach muscles hurt. What else was he to do? Cry? This whole thing was too absurd for tears. Even for him.
When his phone buzzed with a text, he gasped and sprang to his feet. “Aaron.”
The laughter halted.
I get that you’re officially done with me. His voice shook and his heart splintered all over as he read Aaron’s text. This is the last time I’ll reach out. It was wonderful getting to know you, Daniel Greene. From the bottom of my heart, I’m so sorry I hurt you.
Olivia pressed a hand over her heart as her lips pinched together and her eyes saddened with sympathy.
“I know,” Daniel sighed. “You don’t need to say it.”
“He’s just so—”
“Sweet? Kind? Incredible?” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I said you don’t need to say it.”
“I don’t see why you’re not even going to try,” Olivia said. “I’ve never seen you pine so dramatically over a boy.”
He scoffed. “I’m not pining.”
“You are piiiiiining over that boy, and hey, I’d be pining too. First, he saves you from that dumpster fire of a relationship you were in—”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“—with a magical bathroom kiss. Then he saves you from your dildo of a dad, all while making you adore every minute you spend with him to the point that you’re all swimmy around the studio and the students think you’re high on edibles.”
“Wait, did someone say that?”
“And did he not almost kill you in bed with his extreme sexiness?”
“Oh God. Don’t make me think of that. He’s all Every last drop, sweet boy. That sound good? And I’m like, yes, sir, Lucifer. Welcome to my orgasm.”
“Exactly. And now you cannot stop thinking about him. ”
“But—”
“But he’s an escort. Okay, trust me, baby, you’ve dated worse. Shall we review some of the dudes you’ve dated? Would a little trip down memory lane help?”
He blinked, suddenly twitching with an urge to flee the premises. “That’s really unnecessary.”
“Remember the guy with the rock candy fetish?”
He scrunched his face. “Yeah. That hurt my teeth.”
“Remember the guy who said you have the kind of face that ‘probably won’t age well’?”
“I do.” He plopped back down. “What a bitch.”
“You remember the professional hockey player—”
“Okay, I think you’ve made your point—”
“—who pretended you didn’t exist when you ran into him at that taco truck?”
He glared. “In his defense, he was with his teammates.”
“Oh, the same two teammates that wanted to run a train on you?”
“Jesus, Olivia! Language!”
“And what does your ‘boyfriend’ do?” More air quotes. “He just gives them your number.”
He hung his head.
“And God help me, Daniel, you kept seeing him after that.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Mmkay, but you don’t think that was maybe a little flattering?” he asked in an octave too high, crinkling his nose. “Just a little? No?”
Her expression didn’t look like she thought it was a little flattering. “Look, it’s obvious you’re way into Aaron, and he’s way into you. So far, he actually treats you well.”
“Treats me well?” He widened his eyes. “Lest we forget, he lied to me.”
“Okay, yes, Daniel.” She flopped her arms by her sides. “He did. Welcome to the world where sometimes people lie. Even really good people.”
“I don’t.” He blinked hard. “I don’t lie.”
“You lie constantly. Mostly to yourself about what you need. He lied because he wanted to keep seeing you, and because he knew you’d do this.” She swirled a finger around his chest. “Daniel-spiral it into a whole thing. At least he didn’t cheat on you with his first cousin like that investment banker. Remember him? ”
“Okay, I get it! I have so-so taste in men.”
“You have horrible taste in men. And you date these men who look great on paper—even if they treat you horribly —because deep down, you’re seeking someone’s approval.” She slowed her words and repeated, “You’re seeking someone’s approval. What does that sound like to you?”
He let his gaze zigzag around the room.
“You’re going to make me say it? Fine.” She took a breath and nodded as if in solidarity, like whatever she was about to say, they’d get through together. “You date your dad.”
He gasped so loudly he swallowed the gnat that’d been buzzing around the studio for a few days.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She was suddenly so close to his face as he wheezed. How’d she get there so fast? “It could be worse. It’s not that bad.”
He jerked his head back as not to hack directly into her eyeballs. Very, very close.
“Aaron is not your dad, and that freaks you out.”
He coughed harder, suddenly freaking out worse.
“No! I mean, dammit. Let me rephrase that. Aaron may not look good on paper, but he’s not a horrible man, and you actually like him. Think about it. You’ve never dated someone you’ve liked.”
“ What ?” He patted his chest as he tried to roughly clear his airway. “Of course that’s not true—”
“Could it be for the first time, maybe ever, you’re scared?” She gripped his face in her palms and tugged it close. Very, very close. “You can’t get hurt if you never date anyone worth liking.”
He finally gulped—hopefully gnats had a little protein—while his shoulders softened. For being so clodhopping in her explanation, that might have had some merit.
“Give Aaron the same grace you would give a horrible man.”
Now surely that wasn’t a piece of advice he needed to hear. Was it?
“What if you just talked to him? What if you guys could figure something out that works for you both?”
“That’s like, two decently sized if s.”
“But what harm could it do to try?”
“To try and date a sex worker? You’re asking me to change my entire personality. Have you ever met me? I get paranoid pulling into an automatic car wash because I feel like my tire’s never aligned on the track, and my windshield wipers are going to go swishing out of control because I don’t know how to turn them off, then finally, the big brush is going to come crashing through my window and impale me.”
She nodded as she petted his arm. “We lose millions of people a year that way.”
“I’d be too nervous, Olivia.”
“Too nervous about what?”
“That every time he left, it would be to fall in love with someone else.”
“I see.” To her credit, it was genuine empathy shining in her eyes as she offered the tiniest of shrugs and said, “But that’s always the risk you take when you finally find someone worth liking.”
He blinked. Even if it was terrifying, he couldn’t deny that Aaron was someone worth liking.
“You bitch.” He stood and staggered forward, falling into her arms for a hug. “Thank you.”
DANIEL RESPONDED to Aaron with a single text message:
Come over if you want to talk.
He hadn’t expected Aaron to show up at his house in half an hour, looking handsome as ever. He’d actually hoped to have a few moments to ground himself, but here they were, sitting at Daniel’s kitchenette table, not talking. The silence was getting a bit unnerving, but he was waiting for the perfect words. The ones that would convey how agonized he’d been the past week, how challenging it would be for him to try to date someone like Aaron, and how blistering his anxiety could get if he let it. The words would soon pour from his lips like poetic water down a fall. He took a massive inhale and, with an uneven sigh, said… more nothing.
“So.” Aaron leaned his elbows onto his knees. The silence sounded strange with his deep voice finally breaking it. “You were really angry when you left, so thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
Daniel gulped. Why did it feel like he was going to have to talk?
“But you mentioned you might want to talk?”
There it was. “Yeah, but that was before I had to do it. Now I’d rather die.”
Aaron’s eyebrows shot up. “You’d rather die than talk to me?”
“Not fully die. Die just enough to get out of this conversation. ”
Aaron chewed his lip. “So you don’t want to talk?”
“Sorry. It’s really not about you. It’s about me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of a fretful person. I fret about stuff.”
Aaron looked like he was suddenly holding back a smile. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, it’s true, and I’m wondering if learning more about what you do —” He stopped to peer around his house as he dropped to a whisper. “—might help to ease some of my fretting around it.”
“Isn’t it just us here?” Aaron whispered back, also gazing around. “I’m not sure we have to whisper.”
“So here goes nothing.” He drummed the table. “How long have you been doing the thing ?”
“Eight years.”
“ Jesus —sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled. “I didn’t mean to yell. That’s a touch startling, as it’s a slight eternity, but now that I have that fantastic piece of information, we can move on. So these clients of yours, you see them often? How often would you say you see clients?”
“Uh, well, it depends. I have my regulars I might see once a week, then I have others I might only see—”
Daniel flung himself out of the chair to cover Aaron’s mouth with his hand. He shook his head. “No, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know that. Not ready for that.”
Aaron nodded, his eyes a bit startled.
Daniel yanked his hand away and shook it out. “Okay, so what about age? How old are they typically?”
“Age? Again, it depends, but it probably ranges from—”
“No!” Daniel slapped his hand back over Aaron’s mouth, then ripped it away. “I don’t want to know that either. Feels… no . How about, is it always sexual? Do you do other stuff? Dinners or something?”
“Well—”
“Stop! Just stop talking, Aaron. That’s definitely something I don’t want to know.”
Aaron’s expression pinched in confusion.
“Okay, so,” Daniel said, starting to pace, “what about location? Do these guys come to your place? Or do you go to theirs?”
“Usually, they—”
“Dammit, Aaron! ”
Aaron’s blinking doubled.
“The party.” Back to the pacing. “Is that something you do frequently? How often are you working parties like that?”
Aaron hesitated, then continued slowly, “So, most of the time—”
“Oh my God, read the room! Why on earth would I want to know that?”
Aaron scratched the back of his head as he licked his lips and whispered, “I’m sorry, kid. I’m not sure what we’re doing here.”
“We’re talking! Clearly. Final question. So what happens if you start to fall for one of them? For one of your clients.”
“Start to f—? Wait.” Aaron halted, eyeing him. “Before I continue, do you want me to answer?”
Daniel squinted. What the hell kind of question was that? “Duh.”
“Sweetheart, you have to understand something. I’ve been doing this a long time. I have boundaries in place. I don’t stay the night with clients. I don’t do overnight trips. I’ve never developed feelings for one of them. That’d be ridiculous.”
“But what if it does happen?” He bounced a little. “Boundaries slip sometimes. What if it does?”
“Look at me.” Aaron leaned over his knees again and held his gaze. “You. You, you, you , Daniel Greene, of all people, have nothing to worry about.”
He had a way of saying things, didn’t he? It wasn’t that it was perfect. It was that it felt unforced, reassuring. It felt real. Words like that could be life-changing in the right context.
Daniel sat down, then stood up too fast, because he had something to declare. But what? What would he declare? He sat down again because he’d gotten dizzy on the stand. Then he stood back up. Since there was nothing to declare, he sat down, only to stand again. Aaron’s eyes moved like the puck on a high striker at a carnival, following his posture as it continued to ping up and down and back again.
Decisions were not his specialty. It wasn’t that he was bad at them. It was that he was so bad. So, so fucking bad. Since he was a little kid, he’d struggled to get the two sides of his brain to agree on whether a decision was worth the calculated risk or doomed to fail. For someone so palsy-walsy with failure, he sure feared it .
“I’m tired.” He finally collapsed into the seat with a sigh and squashed the urge to breakdance out of the room. “I’m tired of being this person who overthinks everything to death. What if we just tried?”
“Tried… to date?”
“Tried to be together.” He pursed his lips and shrugged. “Tried on a trial basis to be together.”
Aaron’s eyes danced as the corners of his mouth curled. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” That’s always the risk you take when you finally find someone worth liking. “I want to try.”
Aaron grinned, hesitantly reaching for him. “I think it’s a great—”
“But I don’t want to talk about it!” He flailed his arms in the air, which, at least poor Aaron was quick at ducking. “About what you do. At least until I can wrap my head around it. Does that work for you?”
“Sure. Sure, no problem.” It looked like Aaron was trying to decide which angle might be best to get a little closer without getting whacked. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
“And you have to promise you’ll tell me!” Daniel’s flapping had probably gotten predictable by that point, because Aaron was able to grasp his hands and pin them to his lap. “If you start to have feelings for a client, you have to tell me. You have to.”
“Kid.” Aaron squeezed his hands when they tried to jolt into action. “Nothing like that is going to happen.”
He clutched Aaron’s hands back, hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. “Please. Promise I’ll be the first to know. Do me that kindness.”
Aaron slow-blinked as if attending a feral feline, carefully lifting one of Daniel’s hands to his mouth for a kiss. “I promise.”
Someone worth liking. He crashed into Aaron’s chest, letting his bones go limp in his arms, the weight of the evening and the decision pooling heavy beneath his skin as Aaron rubbed his back in slow circles. It was like his nerves got to slip back into their cocoons until the next crisis.
“I’ll be so good to you,” Aaron whispered, pulling them up to a stand where he swayed them back and forth. “So, so good to you. I’ll take care of you. Has anyone ever taken care of you?”
No. He couldn’t quite fathom what that meant, so he said, because it was what people said in the movies, “I can take care of myself.” Then because that didn’t feel wholly true, he followed up with, “Well, most of the time. At least some of the time. When the occasion calls for it.”
“Oh, of course you can, sweetheart. Of course, you just….” Aaron trailed off as his gaze started to scan the house. “Not in every way. Do you mind if I take a peek at the bedroom?”
“The bedroom?” He trailed behind as Aaron darted toward the bedroom. “Why?”
“Hmm? No reason,” Aaron said, prying open the door and flicking on the light. “Oh Jesus.”
Daniel examined the room. “What?”
“Oh Jesus God on earth.” Aaron spun in a delirious circle, whisper-repeating under his breath, “Worse. Worse than I expected.”
“Well, I told you my plan. Get you to like me, then reveal the messy.”
“You precious little thing, look at me.” Aaron cupped his face and pulled him close enough for their noses to nearly touch. “This is not messy. This is how most horror movies start.”
Daniel chuckled.
“I’m going to clean it.” Aaron zoomed toward the kitchen. “It’ll just take me a sec—”
“Are you insane?” Daniel hooked his fingers into Aaron’s jeans and pulled him back. “I’d literally rather watch it all burn than spend tonight cleaning it.”
“That….” Aaron trailed off again as he cut his eyes to the side, slowly twisting back around. “Might be your only option.”
“I want to spend time with you, mister. How am I supposed to do that if you’re off fairy-godmothering my room?”
“I want to spend time with you too, kid. But if you don’t let me clean your house, I am going to lose my entire mind. My entire mind. Do you understand?”
Sort of. Not about cleaning—how charming. But about other stuff. Normal stuff, like dancing or eating. Or that one time when all he wanted to do was drive that person’s golf cart, and they insisted he was “too excited to not be trying to steal it.”
He reluctantly nodded, and sometime later, Aaron had moved mountains with what little supplies he’d been given. He’d scrubbed dishes, filled trash bags, and assigned homes for things like books, charging cables, and body butters. He’d angled furniture toward focal points and rearranged shelves. They’d even gotten past their first mild disagreement, which was about separating light clothes from dark—the urban legend of laundry—only to land in another gently heated discussion about furniture polish. Aaron couldn’t understand why Daniel didn’t own any, and when he tried to explain how it was because he would never buy something so ludicrous, Aaron made it. Made it from olive oil and lemon essential oil.
The whole thing was very demigod-turns-domestic and beyond sexy, and if he wasn’t so exhausted, he’d properly thank him. But he was exhausted, so he flopped atop his fresh bedsheets and rolled himself up like a piglet in a blanket.
Aaron blew out a candle he had lit, transforming the room from lemony heaven to a birthday wish come true. “Sorry, it’s so late. I’m going to take off, okay? Let you get some sleep.”
“Oh no.” He pawed at Aaron’s arm, half-delirious. “You don’t have to leave.”
Aaron grinned as he sat on the corner of the bed. “Aww. Exhausting watching me do all that work, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t think it would be.”
“Because you didn’t do anything?”
“Because I didn’t do anything—” He interrupted himself with a yawn and wiped his watery eyes. “But here we are.”
Aaron snorted and twirled one of his curls around his finger. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow? I’d love to take you out. Something low-key and relaxing. Just us.”
Daniel hummed as he snuggled into the covers. Was this what it was like having someone take care of him? Not only was it physical—the house; his body—but it was like Aaron was meeting him where he was emotionally. “I’m hanging out with my boyfriend. Just us.”
Aaron took a breath. When he spoke again, his tone was a bit different. Almost tense. “I’m glad you texted. I was worried…. I’m just glad you texted.”
He shook his head and patted Aaron’s chest. He couldn’t even reach for the fury he’d felt a week ago. The well of anger had bled dry, replaced with hope. “Olivia said I should stop dating my dad.”
Aaron’s head twitched to the side .
“Err, no.” He scrunched his face and swabbed a hand over it. “What I meant was, uh, you’re not my dad. You’re better and I shouldn’t keep dating my dad because he’s horrible.”
“Yeah, how about you get some rest, sweetheart.” Aaron kissed his forehead. “We’ll unpack that later when you have more energy.”
“Sounds super,” Daniel said, his eyes drifting closed and his thoughts swirling together. “But you should kiss me before you go.”
“Mm-hmm, and how do you want to be kissed?”
“Duh.” Daniel grinned, his eyes still shut as he puckered his lips. “Kiss me like you did at the—”
The kiss from the party immortalized. Again. Thrilling and yet caring. Mild and yet not at all. Demanding tongue that said, Lie on the bed and open your mouth , and a delicate touch that said, You. You, you, you, Daniel Greene, of all people, have nothing to worry about.
“Get some sleep,” Aaron whispered through a gentle smile. He clicked the lamp off and wound the dancer snow globe on the dresser.
Someone worth liking.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Aaron stood at the door, his comforting voice lingering in the air like birthday candle smoke. “Good night, kid.”
“Good night, mister.” He closed his eyes while the soft clinks of The Nutcracker serenaded him to sleep.