The Inside Edge, page 16
“Well, it didn’t feel great.”
Theresa waited for Aubrey to remember he wasn’t allowed to use sarcasm as a defense mechanism.
“It hurt,” he said quietly.
She crossed her legs, but the calculated nonchalance didn’t lessen the impact of her next words. “How do you think Nate would feel if he knew that you’d agreed to do this for him even though it hurts you?”
“I think, if he knew what he’d asked of me, he’d be upset with himself for asking and angry with me for saying yes.” Nate was too kind to knowingly hurt anyone like this.
Theresa uncrossed her legs again and put her hands in her lap. “Aubrey, you deserve better than a relationship, real or imagined, that hurts you. And I think you know that Nate deserves to know that he’s hurting you too.”
Aubrey’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known what she’d say, but that didn’t make hearing it easier.
He should’ve felt—something. Some amount of satisfaction. Dammit. He’d grown into a man who could admit that he wanted a romantic relationship. He didn’t have to avoid it out of fear.
But it wasn’t personal growth, was it? It was Nate. Aubrey hadn’t had a choice.
And now he had to give Nate an ultimatum. He might not know how Nate felt about him, and he might not know whether Nate knew how Aubrey felt. But he knew that if they kept going like they were, Aubrey was going to end up with his heart shredded. Whatever sins he’d committed in the past, he didn’t deserve that.
Chapter Seventeen
NATE’S PARENTS flew out Saturday, before the show, which was scheduled to shoot in Chicago because of the holiday. Aubrey was still supposed to be in Hawaii, so Kelly hopped into the cohost seat. Nate hoped it helped the other network understand the depth of her talent, because she did a fantastic job.
Coming home to his empty apartment felt strange. Part of him wanted to feel relief, and part seemed convinced the floor had just dropped out from under his feet.
Or maybe that was just the gut-punch of walking into his apartment and seeing the vase they’d eventually hidden at Aubrey’s back in its place in his own living room. Aubrey must have returned it after his parents left.
It felt a little too appropriate. Their arrangement was over. The status quo had returned. There was no new relationship to preempt the ugly vase.
It felt like going back in time.
Nate let out a long breath and leaned against the apartment door. The past few weeks had been…. He couldn’t even properly describe them. Aubrey had swept into his life like a whirlwind.
The ridiculous thing was, he didn’t want it to stop. Everything felt fine when Aubrey was around, even if he turned Nate’s life on its head. It was only now that he was gone that Nate had time to second-guess anything.
He thumped his head against the door a few times for good measure, trying to beat some sense into his stupid brain. Too bad he was punishing the wrong organ.
Before he could do any permanent damage, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out, wondering who would be texting this late, only to see a message from Aubrey. You still up?
Nate’s stomach did a passable imitation of a roller coaster. Yeah.
The message showed marked as read, but nothing new came through. Had Aubrey fallen asleep between one message and the next?
Then someone knocked on the door just behind him, and he almost jumped out of his skin. Jesus. Okay, apparently Aubrey wanted to see him, not just text. He turned around and opened the door.
Aubrey looked… wild. His hair was a mess, and he had something—flour? Deodorant?—on the hem of his black T-shirt. His eyes were wide, like he’d had one too many cans of his disgusting canned coffee. “Hey,” he said, looking quickly at Nate and then away. “Look, can I… can we…?”
Automatically, Nate stepped aside to let him in.
Then Aubrey finally said, “We need to talk.”
Ah. Nate ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. This was probably inevitable, right? “Okay,” he agreed, closing the door. His palms were damp, and he wiped them on his pants. They might as well get it over with.
Aubrey took three long strides toward the living room, ran his hands through his hair, disheveling it further, then turned and said, “We can’t do this anymore.”
Fuck. Well, there it was. He’d expected it. He inhaled sharply, trying to offset the sting of the words, but it didn’t help. His throat closed, and he swallowed a few times. “I understand,” he managed, but the words were so quiet, he wasn’t sure Aubrey even heard him.
Aubrey went on as though Nate hadn’t said anything. “I know who I am, all right? I’m the guy who’s good enough to fuck but not good enough to meet Mom and Dad. That’s who I’ve been since I was fifteen. But this time? This time I did meet them.”
Nate really didn’t need to hear this. If Aubrey didn’t want to be with him, he didn’t have to justify it to Nate. In fact, right now Nate would really prefer to lick his wounds in peace. “Aubrey—”
“Do you know what that’s like? Being introduced to your fuckbuddy’s parents like you’re someone important? After more than a decade of being the disposable guy you pick up at a club?”
Nate didn’t know what to say to that, but for the first time, he started to understand that there was more behind Aubrey’s fuck-and-go philosophy than a high sex drive. Aubrey had never been disposable to him. Should he apologize? He’d obviously hurt Aubrey somehow, even if he hadn’t meant to.
“They loved me, Nate.” His voice cracked.
Nate felt like he’d been crosschecked. The broken words sucked the air out of his lungs, and his blood drained from his face.
And then he boiled over. Everything he’d been feeling, everything he’d been fighting for weeks to balance, teetered precariously on the scale and crashed over the side. “You’re right. They do love you. Everyone loves you, and I—I can’t stand it.”
Aubrey paused, openmouthed, as though he’d expected Nate to deny it and now didn’t know how to respond.
“I can’t stand that we keep doing this. That we’re telling lies at work and different lies to my parents.” And it was his stupid fucking idea! That was the worst part. He’d brought this all on his own head—on his own heart.
Now that he’d started talking, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Lying so much I can’t even guess what’s real. What you actually want. The fans love you. My parents love you. And I can’t stand that we’ve lied so much I don’t get to—”
He cut himself off as realization dawned. He could feel it on his face, feel the blood draining further before rushing back in. Jesus, he was stupid. What was he thinking? Just his idiot luck to realize now, when Aubrey was in the middle of breaking up with him—
But now Aubrey was the one who looked like he’d taken a bad hit. “Finish it,” he said.
Damn it. He was the one who said he was tired of lying. Nate’s hands were shaking at his sides when he said, “I can’t stand that everyone else gets to say they love you. And I don’t.”
For a moment Aubrey just stared at him, his expression unreadable. He blinked, then looked Nate dead in the eye. “So then say it.”
Nate’s heart rate kicked up another notch. The conversation had gotten away from him. He hadn’t intended—
But maybe it didn’t matter what he intended. The show was on the bubble anyway. Who cared if they fucked up their chemistry or if Jess got mad?
“I love you,” he said, feeling stupid. “And I can’t believe you goaded me into saying it. Actually wait, yes I can.”
Nate hadn’t considered how Aubrey would respond, since he’d never planned on saying it, but he wouldn’t have guessed that Aubrey would just stand there, speechless. The declaration was apparently the one thing that would make him shut up, which was just Nate’s luck on so many levels.
Then Aubrey’s lips curled up in that familiar smirk. Nate wanted to punch him. Or run. Maybe run was best.
“Then I win,” Aubrey said. His eyes were bright.
What the fuck. Nate sputtered. “You win?” Was this all some kind of sick game? “What the fuck is it you win?”
“Everything.” Aubrey took three quick steps forward. Then his hands were on Nate’s face so he could haul Nate toward him. “Everything.” And then he kissed him.
What, Nate’s brain said, and, Wait, I thought he said we had to stop? But Nate’s brain wasn’t in charge. He’d told Aubrey he loved him, and now Aubrey was kissing him; that was all that mattered. He lost himself in the bitter coffee of Aubrey’s mouth, the softness of his lower lip, the fervent slide of Aubrey’s tongue over his own. Everything else could wait.
After a moment Aubrey pulled back, his lips barely whispering against Nate’s as he asked, “Am I supposed to say it back? I think I’m supposed to say it back.”
Of course Aubrey didn’t understand that the nonasshole responses were 1) reciprocate immediately, or 2) put Nate out of his misery, also ASAP. Nate closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Aubrey’s, then pulled back. “You complete fucking asshole. Yes you’re supp—”
“I love you.” His voice didn’t quite break, but it had a definite wobble, kind of like Nate’s knees. Fortunately Aubrey still held him firmly by the back of his neck. “I have been in love with you for so fucking long, Nate.”
How? Nate wanted to ask. How could it have been so long when they hadn’t even known each other two months? But he didn’t have to ask. He felt the same way. “Okay,” he said, aware he was smiling stupidly but not able to do anything about it. “Okay, so does that mean we are, uh. I mean, you came here to say we couldn’t do this anymore….”
“Oh, we’re not doing this anymore,” Aubrey said, indicating Nate’s apartment with a twirl of his finger. Nate guessed that was supposed to stand in for their modus operandi of the past few weeks. “From now on, we’re going to do this right.” He paused, his expression one of open cluelessness. “Whatever that means.”
Nate laughed and kissed him again. They could figure it out together.
AUBREY WAITED in the lobby.
He’d said last night they were doing this right, and that had meant going back to his own apartment when he really wanted to stay. It was late and their emotions were all over the place, and he felt like he needed an actual reset to start over. But that meant he wasn’t there when Nate woke up. He thought about calling or texting, but he needed to be able to see Nate’s face. Knocking on the door of his apartment seemed invasive—and repetitive. Work would be worse. The gym felt plain creepy. If Aubrey waited for Nate there, he’d inevitably ogle. Nate’s gym shorts did wonderful things for his thighs and ass.
So he waited in the lobby. It had a seating area, and Nate had a strict caffeine-and-pastry schedule.
He’d just lost his seventh consecutive game of 2048 when Nate walked past on his way to the door.
Aubrey started to get up to follow him—which he should have realized was also creepy—but before he could, Nate stopped and turned around, smiling. “Aubrey. Hey. What are you doing?”
Making an ass of myself, apparently. He stood too and picked up his coat and scarf from the sofa beside him. “Waiting for you, actually.”
Aubrey was sure he couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d simply tattooed I am in love with you on his forehead, but Nate had been out of the game for a while. Maybe that was the reason he looked startled.
“Oh,” Nate said. God, he was practically beaming. Aubrey hadn’t yet done anything to deserve that, but he was determined to earn it now.
“Mind if I tag along for coffee?”
The utterly frigid wind coming off Lake Michigan made talking on the walk to their coffee kiosk an impossibility. Aubrey ordered and paid for coffee and breakfast, then handed Nate his cup and the pastry bag for the walk back.
Nate gave him a questioning look, but he only said, “Thanks.”
Aubrey shrugged it off, hunching his shoulders against the cold. Something wet stung him in the cheek, and when he lifted his head, he saw it was snowing—the mean, pellet-like little balls that felt like needles driving into your skin.
“Feels kinda familiar,” Nate half-shouted over the wind, the words steaming in the air before whisking behind them.
Aubrey turned and caught his eye. Nate’s cheeks were red with wind and cold, and snowflakes spangled his eyebrows and lashes.
He was right. It did feel familiar. Aubrey laughed. “It wasn’t this windy in Winnipeg.”
When they returned to the apartment lobby, it was otherwise empty. Aubrey set down his coffee—hot this time, because certain things called for it—and tried to rake some of the snow out of his hair.
“Well, that was invigorating.” Nate produced the pastry bag from the pocket of his coat. He must have been protecting it from the cold and snow. “Breakfast of champions?”
Aubrey accepted his oatmeal scone, still miraculously a bit warm. Okay. Now just… say something. Say what, though? “Thanks.”
Nate gave him a funny look. “You paid for it, remember?”
Fuck. Right. “Did your parents get home okay?” There! That was a nice, normal thing to say. It wasn’t Now that we have confessed our love, please go out on a date with me, but it was a step in the right direction.
“Yeah. Dad’s complaining about jet lag, as though there’s a huge time difference between here and Michigan. Mom keeps telling him travel exhaustion is not the same thing, but I think they like having something to pretend to argue about.”
Aubrey could relate to that, but he couldn’t bring himself to say as much to Nate. That seemed too direct, or maybe just too serious. He felt like if he commented, he might as well be saying, I want to pretend to argue about trivial things with you when we’re in our sixties. They hadn’t even been officially together for one day. They hadn’t even technically been on a date!
Aubrey hadn’t really ever gone on a date with anyone. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but he should have listened to his mother when he was younger. At least then he’d have some experience to fall back on.
“Do you have dinner plans?” he finally blurted.
Okay. This could work. He could do this.
“Not turkey?” Nate answered with a laugh, unwrapping his croissant. They’d put so much leftover Thanksgiving food in his fridge Thursday night that they’d had to relocate his beer.
Aubrey laughed too, letting the openness of Nate’s response embolden him. “You want to go out?”
There. That wasn’t so hard.
“Mmmf-hmm.” Nate nodded around a mouthful of what was obviously flaky pastry. A few little bits stuck to his lips, and he caught those in his hand when he stuck his tongue out to clear them away. “Yeah. What’re you thinking? Chinese?”
Crap. Now Aubrey had to research good first-date restaurants with Asian fare. “Yeah, if you want. Pick you up at seven thirty?”
“Sure.”
Nate took his coffee back toward the elevators. Aubrey should go back upstairs too, but if he did, he’d be stuck in close quarters with Nate for several more minutes, and the adrenaline crash was starting to hit him.
Nate paused. “You’re not going back to your place?”
Aubrey shook his head quickly. “No, I, uh, I have to go out.” Awesome. If he didn’t want Nate to realize Aubrey had been loitering down here for the express purpose of asking him on a date, he was going to have to go back out into the wind and driving snow and… make up some kind of errand. “See you tonight!”
He ended up walking four blocks to a boutique he liked and picking out a date shirt. He might not know what the hell he was doing, but at least he could look the part.
Hopefully he could fake the rest.
Chapter Eighteen
AUBREY TEXTED with the name of the restaurant at six, and Nate called it up on his phone after his shower and perused the menu as he deliberated what to wear. The place looked nice without being stuffy and boasted a menu divided into sections by region as well as type. So, similar to the type of place they usually frequented.
Which made perfect sense, because nothing had changed. Not really. They were just admitting that they had feelings for each other now.
Apparently knowing Aubrey loved him didn’t prevent him from being nervous about a real first date. By the time Aubrey knocked on his door at 7:29, Nate had changed three times. He’d just put on a custom pair of midnight blue jeans and a lavender sweater and was debating swapping the shirt for a blue linen thing that clung to his shoulders, but the sweater would have to do.
He opened the door.
Nate had always known Aubrey was attractive. Hell, Nate’s first impression of him was how handsome he was. But tonight he looked like he’d stepped off the pages of GQ.
“Hey,” Nate said belatedly, which was better than Wow, which was his other thought.
Aubrey smiled, and the supermodel effect only increased. “Hey. Ready to go?”
Nate grabbed his coat from the hook and slid his wallet into his pocket. “Let’s go.”
Surprisingly, Aubrey didn’t push the button for the ground floor when they got into the elevator. Instead he selected a parking deck.
“We’re driving tonight?” Nate asked.
“What, you don’t think I can drive?”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know you had a car.” Aubrey glanced at him out of the corners of his eyes. Nate knew that look. He sighed. “How many cars do you have?”
“Here, or total?”
Nate groaned. “How many cars do you need? You can only drive one at a time.”
“You’re telling me that you, Mr. Hotshot NHL Star, only have one car?”
“What would I do with two cars?” Nate said innocently.
