Page 52 of Say It Again

“I know how it sounds. I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t because, well, I couldn’t, and so I let you think I was an attorney because if you were going to be gone the second you found out anyway, then at least I got to see you for a little while longer.”

His body was betraying him, because that shouldn’t have sounded romantic, and yet a part of him wanted to melt, so he wrenched his arms. “You more than let me think it. The contract? The tickets?”

Aaron bared his palms. “I said I’d get it taken care of, and I did. I took care of everything.”

“You didn’t take care of shit.” Daniel jabbed a finger toward his chest. “You had Yellow Jacket do it.”

Aaron’s confused eyes zigzagged around. “Wait, what?”

“Ugh!” Daniel punched his arms by his side. “I broke up with my boyfriend for you.”

“Are you serious?” Aaron’s eyes rounded. “How magical of a relationship could it have been if all it took was five minutes in a bathroom to break you guys up?”

“Enjoy the pizza.” Daniel patted around his jacket in a tizzy for the thank-you card, then slung it onto the table. He whirled for the door. “I also wrote you that for being so fucking wonderful.”

“Wait. Stop. No, no, no.” Aaron rushed to the door and blocked it. “Don’t leave. I’ll answer all your questions if you’ll just stay. Please stay. I like you! Kid, I like you so much. I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t go—”

Daniel whipped his hand away as Aaron tried to grab it, glaring at full force. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

It’d be impossible for Aaron to look more hurt. He hugged himself. “Sorry.”

“Move.”

Aaron stepped aside, and Daniel didn’t hesitate. He stormed down the hallway without a glance back.

Chapter Thirteen

IT’D BEEN an entire week since Daniel discovered the news about Aaron, and he was still having frequent and dramatic meltdowns about it. He itched for the studio’s last student to leave so he could commence another. (Meltdown number nineteen? Twenty-two? Three hundred?)

The second they left, he sprawled across a bench in the window with one arm draped over his forehead and the other limp to the floor like a CSI dumpster body, and moaned at full volume. He summoned his most pitiful voice and said, “I don’t think I can carry on.”

“Is that permission to kill you?” Olivia asked from behind the counter, where she stood sweeping the floor. “Man, that’d be great. Then you’d stop talking about it.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Do it. You can use the broom. Or I think Madeline has a nail file back there. Just make it quick.”

“It’s been seven freaking days, Daniel. If it’s driving you that nuts, just respond to him.”

“Yeah, let me get right on that. Did I mention he’s a hooker?” He lifted his head and shouted, “A hooker, Olivia!”

“I know, and I just have so many questions. I’ll name them in no particular order.” She stopped sweeping to begin ticking off fingers. “One, how much does he charge? Two, will he break up payment between credit cards—scratch that. Do you think he’ll accept a very heartfelt IOU? And three, I’m not saying the ‘back door’ isn’t ‘open for business.’” She was using way too many air quotes. “But does he, by chance, do ‘front’ or ‘side door’ stuff?”

His gaze wandered. “What would be considered the ‘side door’?”

“Lastly, how does one sign up? Is there an app or something?”

Daniel shot upright to fire a menacing glare. “Oh, I’m glad this is so fun for you.”

“It is.”

“Because it’s not freaking fair.” He summoned his whiniest voice. The one he used for police officers pulling him over or the bank teller in charge of canceling overdraft fees. “There is finally a gorgeous guy who I genuinely like, and he’s a fucking gigolo?”

The weight of the word “gigolo” hung in the air like a sex-working balloon while he and Olivia found themselves in an unofficial staring contest over it. Which didn’t last long. All it took was for him to silently mouth “gigolo” once more for Olivia to erupt into laughter.

His own laughter followed, ridiculous and real until his stomach muscles hurt. What else was he to do? Cry? This whole thing was too absurd for tears. Even for him.

When his phone buzzed with a text, he gasped and sprang to his feet. “Aaron.”

The laughter halted.

---