“Can we see the gym?” Aspen asks after we’ve explored the space.
“Of course! There’s an entire floor dedicated to their state-of-the-art fitness center,” she informs us.
When she turns to lead us out the door, Aspen is smirking at me, raising her eyebrow, silently asking what I think. I nod, unable to hold back my huge smile.
This place is perfect.
There’s even some very attractive men that look to be around our age working out while we tour the fitness center.
Maybe it’s time I think about dating again.
13
ASPEN
MARCH
“What do you mean, you’re already here?” I question.
Arthur texted me a picture of him at O’Hare saying “See you soon” with no prior warning that he was visiting.
“Well, you were only giving me one word answers in our texts and blowing off all my calls, so I decided to come in person,” he explains.Of course he did.
“And you didn’t think you should give me any warning?”
“I’ve called you five times in the last week,” he reminds me.Alright, he’s got me there.
“I’ve been very busy,” I insist, which is only a half-truth. As much as I love Arthur, and have enjoyed keeping up with him over the years, I know when he wants something from me. I’m not in the mood to deal with his schemes right now.
“Come on, Aspen, meet me for dinner,” he begs. “I’ve got reservations at X in an hour. Sorry, I did intend to give you more warning than that, but my flight was delayed, and I wasn’t able to tell you sooner.”
“Fine.” I give in. He did come all this way, supposedly just to see me. Might as well find out what he wants. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Would you rather I come to your new place first? I haven’t seen it yet,” he points out.
I don’t need Sage overhearing whatever family drama no doubt brought Arthur here. If he picked a public restaurant for us to catch up in, there’s a reason. If it has something to do with me still being in the closet, I’d rather talk to him about it alone. I’ll tell her an edited version later tonight if needed. “No, I’ll be getting ready. I’ll see you there.”
The restaurant Arthur picked is fancier than I anticipated. Luckily, I tend to dress more formally than most, so my choice blends in with the rest of the crowd, but I’m a little surprised he didn’t warn me. “Damn, Art, when did you get such fancy taste?” I tease as we’re seated at the white-linen-covered table. It’s topped with a vase of red roses in the middle and everything.
“Are you complaining?” he teases back. Arthur and I are still close even though we don’t see each other often. It’s nice to fall back into our same routine, though.
“No, this just isn’t what I was expecting,” I explain. The waiter comes by and we put in our orders. When we’re alone, I decide I’m done waiting for him to tell me whateverreally brought him here. “So, spit it out. Why are you really in Chicago?”
He gives me a questioning look, like he’s checking if I’m still teasing or not. “Come on, Aspen, you’ve got to know,” he starts. But I have no idea what he’s talking about, so I shake my head and gesture for him to continue.
He sits up a bit straighter in his chair, and takes a deep breath before finally continuing. “We’re almost thirty. It’s time,” he says. Then to my absolute horror, he pulls out a ring box, placing it on the table between us. I nearly jump out of my seat with how surprised I am. Luckily, I stop myself, knowing that that would only cause a bigger scene.
I scramble to cover the ring box before he can do something even more idiotic like get down on one knee.
“What?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Is this not what you pictured? Would you rather we go to the beach or a rooftop, somewhere we could take a nice photo to post?”
“No!” I hiss. “I would rather you put that fucking box away so I never see it again.”
He looks exhausted now, slumping back in his chair as he stares at me disapprovingly. “Aspen, you had to know that this was coming.” He says it so simply. Like we’re talking about what food we’ve ordered, not a damn marriage proposal. “We’ve talked about it since we were kids. Neither of us has had any real relationships. As far as I know, Sage doesn’t even realize that you’re not straight,” he continues, and I’m not sure why that detail matters rightnow. “Aspen, it’s time that we embrace the inevitable and get married.”
“Like fuck it is,” I spit out. I can’t help it. I know I should try to be calm and rational right now, but I can’t hold back my emotions as I respond. “I’m not marrying you, Arthur. I know we used to joke about it growing up, but?—”
“It wasn’t a joke,” he interrupts. “Our parents fully expect us to be married in a year. They’ve been asking me incessantly about proposing for the last two. I would never expect anything physically from you, you know that. It would just be for show. We can figure out a way to discreetly see other people,” he says casually.
