“I think I’m in love.”
Jasmine’s jaw dropped in shock. When she didn’t immediately respond, Jay realized he’d never seen his sister at a loss for words before. Not when he came out to her when they were teenagers. Not when they stood in their backyard wearing goofy glasses during a solar eclipse. Not even when Jasper proposed during a family Christmas dinner.
“Did I break you?”
Instead of responding, Jasmine launched herself at Jay and wrapped her arms around him. “Is it Aaron?”
“Of course it’s Aaron,” Jay murmured. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve been spending time together, and he’s perfect. Everything about him is perfect. But our relationship has always been strictly physical. How do I tell him that it’s changed for me? And, more importantly, what do I do if it’s still only sex for him?”
“Wait, back up. You’ve been hooking up with Aaron?” Jasmine’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Jay dragged his hands down his face. If he wanted Jasmine’s advice, he had to be honest. “Aaron and I met at a BDSM club. We’ve made an…arrangement. Like friends with benefits.”
Jasmine made a face. “Okay. We’re going to sail past that and never speak of it again. I’m glad you’re living your truth, but I’d rather not think of you like that. So, you and Aaron met at a baking class, and you’ve been baking cakes together.”
Jay glared at his sister until she burst out laughing and motioned for him to keep going.
“Fine. At the beginning of any baking class, the chefs talk to each other about food allergies and sensitivities, so they know which ingredients to avoid.” Jay barely kept from grinning as he continued the ridiculous analogy. “Sometimes it’s not an allergy. Sometimes it’s a flavor that’s too intense, and they’re not ready to taste it. We talked about it, and Aaron didn’t feel comfortable with lemon zest.”
“Jay! I think that’s worse!” Jasmine exclaimed. “What the hell is lemon zest? My imagination is suggesting some horrifying things.”
“Make up your mind,” Jay said, playfully poking her side. “And stop interrupting. Aaron had a specific boundary, and I amnottelling you what it was, but it seemed important to him. Then, during dinner today, he told me he was ready and said he trusted me.”
“Aww, you had dinner together?” Jasmine’s expression melted into a smile. “Was this a date, or was he eating off your naked body?”
“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Jay huffed. “It wasn’t a date. He came over last night because he wasn’t feeling well. He wasn’t even supposed to stay, but we fell asleep watching TV. And since both of us were free today, we went to the zoo and got some tapas afterward.”
“Jay, I hate to break it to you, but what you’re describing is a very wholesome and romantic date.”
Was it? Jay thought back on the events of the day, trying to see them in a new light.
Maybe she was right. They’d woken up in the same bed and spent hours together, always within touching distance. It hadn’t escaped Jay’s attention how closely Aaron walked next to him, their forearms constantly brushing up against each other. If Jay had been braver, he could have reached out and held Aaron’s hand. He’d thought about it. He’d wanted to do it. But something stopped him every time.
Holding hands was easy—but what came next?
Exhaustion washed over him, and he buried his head in his hands. “Shit, Jas, would I even be a good boyfriend? I’m almost thirty, and I’ve never had a meaningful relationship, while Aaron spent sixteen years married to his best friend. What if I can’t take care of him the way he’s used to?”
“Jay.” Jasmine shook him by his shoulder. “I’ve met Aaron. For like thirty minutes, but long enough to see that he doesn’t need to be coddled. If anything, he’ll be the one looking after you. Don’t assume anything. Ask Aaron what he wants.”
“Honestly, I’m afraid of the answer,” Jay admitted. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“What if he does?”
Jasmine’s optimism lit a spark of hope in his heart, slowly expanding and filling up his chest as he drove home. With the windows down and the cool evening breeze whispering through his hair, he felt almost buoyant. On impulse, he turned on the radio, still tuned to the same station Aaron had found earlier, and hummed along to every song.
The emptiness of his house hit him as soon as he crossed the threshold. Aaron had only been there for one night, but his absence left a mark. Casual reminders of his existence stared atJay from every corner—the green light on the dishwasher from the load Aaron started that morning, the nest of blankets on the couch, the neatly folded T-shirt and sweatpants in the hamper.
Worst of all was the faint citrus scent clinging to his sheets—warm, intimate, and strangely comforting. Jay couldn’t bear the idea of drifting off to sleep without it.
He’d made his decision.
He had to try.
Chapter 31
