CHAPTER 8
AARON
Usually, I love the Farmer’s Market. Not only does it make buying my produce for the week easy, but there are a lot of good crafts and other items around. Mostly, I browse. I prefer my home to be clutter-free, which means not buying random crap. I do, however, often find suitable gifts for people. Plus, I get great fruits and vegetables to use in my weekly meal prep. Much easier than going to the grocery store.
Today, my mind isn’t able to focus on which vegetables are in season. It’s focused on one thing: Oliver.
I didn’t mean to invite him today. It’s a group outing—mostly, Tyler can’t join us—and I knew Nathan was bringing Colt. It’s a big step for them, having Colt spend time with the friend group. I’d thought maybe it’ll be a good time to bring up Oliver after we met up to tell everyone that I’ve been hanging out with him—as friends, they don’t need to know the rest—and ask if that’s okay. But if he’s here…
I love hanging out with Oliver, but Nathan has been one of my best friends for over a decade. The last thing I want to do is make him uncomfortable. Especially since he’s finally managed to snag the man he’s been lusting over since high school. I’d never forgive myself if I got in the way of that.
Looking back, I don’t know how it happened. Last night, we were texting while watching TV. We’re both into thisLego MastersTV show, where people compete to build these crazy creations. We haven’t managed to start our official agreement. Not yet, at least. We’re supposed to have a running and crocheting night next week. There’s a miracle, and our schedules happen to line up well enough to make it happen. I’m not sure which one of us is more nervous. Or why.
Yes, I’m going to make a complete ass of myself trying to get the hang of crocheting, but that’s nothing new. I routinely make an ass of myself. What’s different is that it’ll be in front of Oliver.
When he asked what I was doing tomorrow, I mentioned going to the Farmer’s Market. Oliver replied that he’d never been, and, before I could even think properly, I invited him to come along.
The move was followed by a sleepless night as I tried to figure out a solution. Nothing came to me. I’ve spent the entire morning attempting to get up the courage to tell the guys he’s coming, but every time I open my mouth, the words won’t come out.
“Hey, you guys remember Colt?” Nathan and Colt walk over hand-in-hand to where I’m standing with Matthias. It tugs at something inside me, seeing the two of them there, happy. I want that. I’m in my mid-thirties, and I’ve never even come close.
I nod at him and give him the best replica of a smile I can manage. Hopefully, he won’t hate me when Oliver arrives in a little bit. He texted me to let me know he was running a littlelate, something about a last-minute task for one of the authors he works for that needed to be completed before he left the house.
“Hey, did you guys hear about Christie?” Matthias asks, giving me a few seconds to collect myself.
“Oh, I think I saw something on social media. Did she finally give in to her family’s demands?” Nathan asks.
Christie was one of the women who lived in the same dorm as we did in college. She was gorgeous and outgoing, friends with absolutely everyone. Even back then, it was clear she was going places. Her family was wealthy and well-connected, but it didn’t keep her from working her ass off and picking up volunteer work like her life depended on it.
Maybe it did. Her dad owned a big media conglomerate back in California, and she swore up and down she had no interest in ever being a part of it. When we graduated, she moved out east to work for a small, independent newspaper. I knew her parents weren’t happy about it, and I always expected she’d put in a few years before she went back.
After a decade, I figured she’d officially proven me wrong.
“Yeah, they just announced that she’s talking over as Chief Operating Officer. Her dad’s staying on for the time being, but I expect they’re preparing her to take over completely at some point in the near future.” Matthias chimes in. He’s usually the one who keeps up with our various classmates, constantly aware of their career moves. Honestly, if someone doesn’t personally text me about it, I rarely notice. I’ve avoided social media as much as possible. I have accounts on most of them, but I never log in. The apps aren’t even on my phone. That’s on purpose. There’s too much of a risk of something derailing my plans.
Plus, I donotneed my family to find them. I don’t keep in touch with my parents other than a quick phone call on birthdays and holidays. They know almost nothing about mylife, which is how I prefer it. It used to bother me not to have a supportive family like the rest of my friends. But after seeing how great Matthias’s family is, how accepting they are of him as a person, I can’t imagine ever going back. Do I wish things were different? Maybe. I don’t let myself think about it too much. There’s nothing I can do to change it, so why bother?
We weave through the rows of vendor stalls, chatting about people we used to know. It’s one of the things I love about the guys. As much as our lives and friendship are firmly rooted in the present, our history together is a common topic of conversation.
I take a small sample of an apricot bar offered by one of the vendors. It’s sweet and crispy, with the perfect amount of crunch. I put them on my mental list as a potential option to come back to later. Maybe Oliver will like them, too. We could buy one of the big bags and split it between us. Or share it during my crochet lesson.
The little bite seems to awaken my hunger, and my stomach growls loudly enough to get Matthias’s attention.
“We should take a break for lunch soon? I’m starving.” Probably because I ran twelve miles this morning, I ate after, but the calorie deficit always catches up with me later in the day.
“The lines for the food trucks are dwindling; it might be a good time to take a break,” Matthias agrees. He gives me a bit of a look but leads us in the general direction of the row of food trucks serving people. We stop off at a few vendors, since Nathan can’t seem to stay focused on the goal, but we eventually make our way there.
“Why don’t you find a spot for us to sit?” Nathan says to Colt, “And I’ll bring you something.”
Cranky, tired, and still looking for an opportunity to talk to Colt privately, I nudge Matthias and tell him to pick something for me. He knows what I like and won’t mind, though he doesraise an eyebrow at me. Something tells me he’ll be asking for information later. “Let’s go,” I say, grabbing Colt’s arm and steering him toward one of the open picnic tables.
We settle in, and I try to break the ice between us. “So, how are things?”
“Um… good.” Colt sits opposite me, the spot next to him obviously reserved for Nathan.
“Things with Nathan are going well?”
“Shouldn’t you ask Nathan?” He tilts his head to the side and examines me. I’m unwilling to give in, not moving or flinching under his inspection. It’s taken me hours to get up the courage to do this. If I pull back now, it’ll be too late.
