Page 118 of Dream a Little Dream

Aaron hadn’t ever wanted another person before. Notneededanyone. But the ache for Kenny, for his tender kiss, his fierce touch, his protective arms, gripped Aaron so hard, he wasn’t sure how he’d go back to the way he used to be.

Did he want to?

Yes. Because this goodbye Kenny was giving him fuckinghurt.

“I’m here for you,” Kenny said in his ear, avoiding the question. “Always. And we’ll work through this. Together. But you and me, we’ll destroy each other.”

Aaron rose just enough to look Kenny in the eye. “If I wasn’t me… if I was just some twink you met in a bar, no mess, no baggage, noproblems… would you kiss me right now?”

A hint of regret flickered within Kenny’s eyes, and he waited a while before answering, heavy with honesty. “No.”

The sting of that truth hit sharp and bitter. But before Aaron could pull away, Kenny cupped his face, stroking his thumb along Aaron’s jaw, and leaned in, a whisker away from his lips. “Because they wouldn’t interest me the way you do.”

He then closed his eyes as he kissed Aaron. Soft. Tentative. A kiss that felt like a promiseanda goodbye. Aaron melted into it, heart aching, needing it more than he wanted to admit. He shuffled closer on the step, gripping hold of the material on Kenny’s coat, pressing forward, mouth opening enough for Kenny to brush his tongue against his.

Aaron’s chest tightened and fluttered all at once.

Then Aaron pulled away, forehead against Kenny’s. “That’s it,” Aaron parroted Kenny’s words. “The last one.”

Kenny opened his eyes, the intensity within them tapdancing down Aaron’s spine, and a small, almost devilish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he repeated Aaron’s line, “Liar.”

The word hung between them, and Aaron knew he wasn’t the only one in denial. He watched the surge of conflicting emotions play across Kenny’s face, feeling the truth in that one loaded word. He wanted more, but the fracture between them was too sensitive, too fresh to mend with one kiss. And somewhere, a part of him understood Kenny’s reluctance wasn’t rejection.

It was self-preservation.

Slowly, Aaron nodded, heart heavy but resolute. “I’ll go.”

He stood, Kenny’s hand falling from his shoulder, but he used it to grab Aaron’s, tighter than he should for someone telling him he didn’t want him. “I can drive you back.”

“Why? You think the boogie man is out there to get me?” Aaron stroked his thumb over Kenny’s knuckles. “He’s gone now. I dealt with him.”

“You did. Like a legend. But I can still drive you back to your room.”

Aaron held his gaze. Bit his lip. “I’m not going back tomyroom.” He let Kenny piece that together and, eventually, Kenny slipped his fingers from Aaron’s. “See you in class, doc.”

“See you in class, Aaron.”

Aaron meandered to the end of the driveway, glancing back to see Kenny still sitting there, watching him go, expression unreadable in the dim light. So he hummed.Dream a Little Dream Of Me.Andeach step he took away stretched the taut thread holding them together, thinner and thinner, but refusing to break.

And as Aaron sank into the night, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time they’d find each other at opposite sides of a door, struggling to bridge the gap between them. Not the last time their choices would drive them together, only to tear them apart. And, deep down, he understood they needed this time to sort through how they’ll deal with what came next.

Because Aaron wasn’t done here yet.

So he rounded the corner and Kenny’s porch light faded, but Aaron knew he was destined to come back here. Back to Kenny. Eventually. It was fate.

What it took to get there, though, was the real game.

epilogue

Mama Liked the Roses

Six months later…

Aaron sat rigid at the cold metal table, tracing small circles on its surface with his fingers.

The surrounding tables formed a strict pattern, each one resembling a square island beneath a sea of humming fluorescent lights. Back tense, his every nerve was on edge. After the invasive search, the probing questions, and the shuffle down the long, featureless corridors, he felt like part of a herd, corralled with the others who filled the room.

Children giggled nearby, their voices light and carefree, considering where they were, but Aaron kept his head down, tugging at the cuffs of his hoodie and he ran his thumb overthe new fabric, soft and grounding. He’d smile, but he couldn’t feel it right then. So he pushed a hand through his pink hair, ruffling it back and taming it again, pretending he cared about appearances here, in a place like this, under lights that highlighted every flaw, every jagged edge. As if those who’d be coming through the double doors at any moment would even care how he looked.

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