The table plunged into silence. Aaron’s hand stalled mid-motion as he was lowering his glass, his expressive eyes impossibly wide and focused on Jay. Mark had also gone still, dropping his gaze to the table. Rachel was the only one unaware of the impact of her words, scrolling through her phone until shefound what she was looking for and shoved the screen at Jay. “Look, this is the house we bought. Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s almost eighty years old!”
The house was nice, but Jay was more concerned with Aaron’s reaction. Was he horrified by the idea of Jay as his boyfriend? Or just embarrassed by Rachel’s lack of filter?
“You know what? Youshouldvisit.” Mark said with a sly smirk. “There’s a lot to do if you like American history. You could even go to a reenactment!”
Aaron turned his incredulous expression toward Mark. “Seriously? No. There are much better things to do than go to hokey reenactments with terrible food.”
Mark laughed. “I see you still haven’t gotten over thatauthenticblueberry pie. I think Jay will like it. And you could take him to your favorite bar afterward.”
Something warm unfurled inside Jay’s chest at the inclusion. Mark’s initial hesitation was gone. He was comfortable enough to joke around, and Jay could tell that, for Mark, it was a sign of approval.
It was almost three o’clock by the time they stepped out of the restaurant into the bright afternoon. Mark and Rachel hugged him goodbye, promising to see him in Philadelphia, and then it was just Jay and Aaron. After walking Aaron to his office building, Jay lingered by the entrance. “Friday? Text me when you’re done with work.”
“It’s a date.” Aaron disappeared inside, leaving Jay with unanswered questions. Was it just an expression? Or was it a date?
Chapter 28
JAY
AARON: I’m sorry, I have to cancel tonight.
Jay glared at his phone. This was not the text he’d been eagerly waiting for. He’d spent most of the week crafting scenario upon scenario, painstakingly preparing for their Friday night. Every toy in his possession had been taken out and cataloged, his ropes receiving a particularly close examination, his mind spinning with possibilities.
His meticulous planning had been in vain.
Disappointment rolled off him in waves, but he didn’t want his response to sound moody or sharp. He typed a quickOkay, no problemand immediately deleted it. Too simple and impersonal, it made it sound like he didn’t care.
He cared. Maybe too much.
After composing a longer message, asking if everything was okay, he hesitated. He didn’t want to put Aaron on the spot, didn’t want to make it seem like canceling required an explanation. They weren’t together. Aaron didn’t owe him anything.
He kept typing and erasing, watching the cursor blink with frustration. This was ridiculous. After another failed attempt at sounding nonchalant, he gave up and pressed the Call button.
Aaron picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Jay. I’m really sorry to cancel last minute.” His tired voice was heavy with regret, and Jay’s concern overrode all other emotions.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“Nah, nothing’s wrong, not really. I just had a long, frustrating day at work, my apartment is a complete mess, and I’m in a shitty mood. I don’t think I’d be good company tonight.” Aaron’s quiet admission tugged at Jay’s heartstrings.
“Why don’t you come over for dinner?” Jay asked before he could stop himself.
“Jay, I…I’m really not in the mood for playing tonight.”
That wasn’t what he’d asked. Did Aaron think he was trying to trick him?
“Aaron, that wasn’t a euphemism. I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I’m inviting you to dinner. We’ll order pizza, watch TV, you can complain to me about work, whatever you need. Or, since you’re tired, I can come over and feed you. Maybe help you with some cleaning.”
He was rambling, but he couldn’t stop. As long as he talked, he didn’t have to face Aaron’s polite rejection. Why did he even ask? Aaron had made it clear he wanted to be left alone. Jay should have wished him a good night and gotten off the phone.
With some effort, he forced himself to shut up and let the silence stretch. After a moment, Aaron made a small sound. “Yeah. I’d love to come over and eat pizza with you. I need to escape the utter chaos Mark and Rach left behind.”
Relief seeped through Jay, releasing the tension coiled in his shoulders. After assuring Aaron he didn’t need to bring anything and getting off the phone, Jay ordered two pizzas with a bunch of veggie toppings and a giant salad from his favorite neighborhood pizzeria. Then, he turned a critical eye to his living room. If Aaron’s messy apartment was a source of stress, Jay would make damn sure his place was spotless.
It didn’t hit him until halfway through vacuuming under the couch cushions that this was the first time he’d everwantedto take care of someone outside of his family. None of his romantic relationships ever got to that stage. He’d made sure of that. Itwas safer to keep his distance than to be crushed under the weight of other people’s expectations.
But Aaron was different. He didn’t make a fuss or demand anything. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. Jay wasn’t being forced into a caretaker role. It was his choice, and he would choose to step up for Aaron every time he needed him.
An hour later, the house was as clean as Jay ever remembered it being. The pizzas had arrived, drowning out the faint scent of disinfectant with the warm, yeasty fragrance of freshly baked dough and tangy tomato sauce. When the doorbell finally rang, Jay rushed to the door and flung it open. Aaron looked drained, with his shoulders slumped and a ghost of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
