25. Aaron

25

AARON

Truth be told, I look forward to my chats with Jack by text or phone. But it’s been about two weeks since that video call, and I’m craving that contact—craving him. Not just seeing his face but hearing his voice. Low when vulnerable, a rumble when coming apart at the seams.

Sure, I could get my needs met in other ways, but anyone else would feel wrong and hollow. We didn’t talk about what we are besides friends—with benefits maybe, which suits me fine. Most of the time. But there’s this itch beneath my skin to do something. Something other than what I’m doing day in and day out. To make bolder decisions, but I also don’t want to make any wrong moves.

I spent all last weekend in the workshop at my mom’s house, even called my dad after to chat about it because it’s our common ground.

But now it’s Friday after a long day—they all feel long lately—and I have Jack on the brain.

After downing a glass of water, I lift my cell. Hey, want to video call tonight?

Can’t.

The one-word response makes me uneasy. No worries. Got a hot date or something?

My fingers shake as I fire off the reply. I don’t like the idea of him being with anyone else, despite not having any commitment to each other.

Actually, I’m on the road.

I rack my brain, trying to remember if he mentioned his weekend plans. Normally, it’s all about work, family, or photos. I feel bad texting back, knowing he has to use voice-to-text so he can be hands-free, but I can’t help myself. Where to?

San Jose.

I drop my plastic cup, and it clatters in the sink. Are you messing with me?

No, I’m serious. I’ll be in your area for the night.

I can barely concentrate on responding because, holy shit, Jack is in town. In my town. Why didn’t you tell me?

I thought showing up was our thing.

I snicker before I grow serious. Where are you?

About to get off the freeway. See you soon.

I run around my apartment, mindlessly straightening area rugs and couch cushions, feeling like I’m in the twilight zone. Jack will be standing in my apartment, which I’ve only thought about some five hundred times since arriving home. My mind played out many different scenarios of how we could possibly see each other in person again, and this was one of them. I never thought he’d go for it—not after his work excuse when Rocco suggested it—which is why I never brought it up again.

I freeze momentarily when I hear a knock, then open the door with a flourish. “Well, damn. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

A flush crawls across his cheeks as I take in his dark jeans and tight T-shirt. He looks out of place in my apartment building, yet not. That’s when I zero in on whatever he has leaning against the wall.

“What’s that?”

He lifts the medium-sized square package that looks suspiciously like a picture frame. “I wanted to make it a matching set.”

“I…wow, thank you.” I step aside. “Come in.”

“Don’t thank me until you see it.”

“Please, I’ll love it regardless.” I shut the door behind him and whirl to face him. “I’m still a bit in shock that you’re here.”

“Tell me about it,” he mutters as he takes in my apartment, his gaze landing on the small sand dollar I placed on the end table. My cheeks prickle, but he doesn’t mention it, which only makes me wonder if he decided to show up on his own or, more likely, after some prodding from his siblings.

Either way, he’s standing right in front of me, in the flesh. I step closer, as if testing if he’s real. “I like it, though, having you here.”

He winks. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too much city for you?” I tease.

“Maybe. But I’ll admit, it’s cool seeing where you live.”

I make a sweeping gesture. “Sorry if it’s a bit messy.”

“It’s practically spotless.” He steps toward the living room, setting the frame against my small dining table. “I just knew it would be someplace modern.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t love it. I’d prefer something with a little more…”

“Character?” When his gaze catches on the eagle photo behind the couch, he looks pleased. No way I wouldn’t hang it and then brag about it when friends came over. Which actually hasn’t happened since I returned.

“How’d you know?”

“Because you enjoy restoring things, and…you complimented my humble abode.”

“You do know me well.” When his eyes widen, my cheeks heat, so I turn toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“That would be great. Just water for now.”

He leans against the island while I fill up a glass and think of something to say that doesn’t sound too probing. “I…uh…how was your drive?” I fumble the question, but to be fair, my brain isn’t connected to my mouth at the moment.

“It was fine.” He straightens. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

I slide the glass across the counter to him. “Why would it be?”

“Because your trip to Aqua Vista ended, and maybe you wanted to create some distance between us.” He lifts the glass and takes a drink, as if to give himself something to do.

“Um, I can’t help wondering if you’re projecting. Did you forget the part where we’ve been texting regularly and that just thirty minutes ago, I wanted to video call you?”

“Yeah, but that’s different from me showing up.” A hint of vulnerability filters through his eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Hey.” My legs eat the distance between us, and there it is, his smell. I missed it. “You were thinking you wanted to see me, and I’m so glad because I wanted to see you too.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, which makes him seem younger. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” I step closer, but I don’t want to crowd him or make a wrong move. But then his arms are winding around me, tugging the back of my shirt, and Jack is kissing me, slow and long and deep. My toes curl, and I practically swoon.

“That’s quite a hello.” I kiss his cheek before pulling back. “Now show me my gift.”

His cheek quirks. “Greedy.”

I lead him to the living room and sit on the couch. He brings the frame over and sits unsteadily beside me. I fit my fingers under the tape, pulling back the brown butcher paper and noticing double the amount of bubble wrap. “Wow, it’s armored.”

He chuckles nervously. “I was afraid it would get dented.”

My breath catches as I lay eyes on the photo of the baby turtles swarming the beach and heading toward the ocean, as if it’s a coordinated event. And yet not. You wouldn’t understand unless you watched it all go down, and I’m so glad I did.

“Fuck, I love it.”

He blows out a breath. “I hoped you would.”

I motion to the eagle photo on the wall behind the couch. “They’ll match.”

“That was the idea.” His grin is wide, his eyes sparkling with delight, and the ache in my chest tells me I want to keep him smiling like that forever.

I head to the hall closet, where I keep a storage bin. I retrieve a nail, measuring tape, and a hammer.

“Looks like you’re putting me to work,” he teases, taking the measuring tape from my hand.

Pounding a nail into the wall might seem like a small thing, but I learn a couple of things about Jack in the process. He likes to be accurate, not allowing me to proceed until the two prints line up precisely.

“You are quite a stickler,” I remark once the nail is in.

“Only for these sorts of things.”

He helps me lift and hang the photo. “What sorts of things?”

We stand back and admire it. “I dunno. Art, decor…”

“I never would’ve guessed that about you. Although, come to think of it, your wine bottles were alphabetized and maybe your prints too.”

He chuckles as his eyes drift toward the eagle photo, as if comparing the two or critiquing his work. That’s something I can relate to. “You should’ve seen me when I was in the thick of flipping rental properties. You don’t want to ask me to decide on a color or pattern on the spot. I drove Rocco nuts because?—”

“You needed the time to consider all the options and angles?” he finishes for me.

“Exactly.” Something slides into place inside my gut. A certain rightness I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s that Jack and I are more alike than we thought. Or that we fit pretty well.

I admire the photos a moment more, then press my shoulder against his. “They’re perfect. Thank you again.”

The rosiness deepens on his cheeks. “Sure thing. I mean, you were there to witness both, so…”

I meet his eye. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Neither would I.”

“So…what now?” I ask to lessen the intensity buzzing between us. “Do you want to stay?”

“I would love to.” His voice is throaty as he steps behind me and kisses my nape. I shiver and have the urge to lead him straight to my bed. But considering he drove all this way here, maybe he’d like to be shown around a bit first.

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Wanna head to one of my favorite places for a bite?”

“Sounds good to me.”