Chapter Seventeen

Aiden Comes Out—Well, Sort Of

Something is going on.

Aiden didn't know what, exactly, but it was clear all was not well in Becca Land.

Actually, make that Will-and-Becca Land. Will had spent the whole evening at the bar, chatting with Aiden. He couldn't be positive, but it felt as if Will was avoiding Becca.

Or is she avoiding him ?

When Aiden had ventured into the kitchen in search of more ice, Mom and Deborah were talking catering. Kelly was there too, coming up with suggestions as to what could be on the menu. Aiden only caught snatches of the conversation, but it was enough for him to make a mental note to visit Walgreens and buy up every packet of Pepto Bismol he could lay his hands on, to stockpile for the event.

When he returned to the bar, Will was still there, staring at the dirty list.

He's already had three . And if Aiden had his way, there wouldn't be a fourth. Aiden knew guys who could drink all night long and still walk a straight line.

When it came to drinking, Will was in the minor leagues.

He placed his hand on Will's back and leaned in to speak into his ear.

"I think you should stop. Quit while you can still walk."

Will jerked his head toward Aiden, his unfocused eyes blinking. "Stop? I haven't even got started." He held up his empty glass. "This was great. What was it called again? Tonsil tickler ?" He grinned. "I love having my tonsils tickled, but the equipment has to be right."

It was official. Will was three sheets to the wind, and no longer in charge of what came out of his mouth. Because that sure sounded dirty—and gay—as fuck.

It's the booze talking. Yet another reason to get Will off cocktails and onto water—and probably a little food to soak up all that alcohol—before he said something far worse that his fiancée's family were gonna remember and whisper about while he was walking up the aisle.

Aiden walked behind the bar and dumped the contents of the bags of ice into the cooler. "I'm being serious."

Will's eyebrows shot up. "I'm serious too—about working my way through this list. So… what to have next." He leaned forward until his nose was almost touching the card. "How about…ooh, that one looks good. Malibu, Baileys, grenadine, 7-Up…" He straightened and gave Aiden a satisfied smile. "I'll have Sex With The Bartender ."

That was too good an opening to ignore, especially since there was no way Will would remember it the next day.

Aiden shrugged. "Fine but I'd prefer to wait until you're sober." Will squinted at him, and Aiden chuckled. "Sorry. I couldn't resist a joke."

"Aw." Will's lopsided grin was fucking adorable. "For a moment there I thought you were propositioning me."

Don't.

Don't do it.

You'll only regret it.

Aiden was tired of listening to the voice of reason.

He took advantage of the lull in the storm of partygoers clamoring for drinks to lean toward Will, elbows on the bar, their foreheads almost meeting. He was momentarily distracted by Will's scent, a warm, spicy smell that conjured images of bed, pillows under hips, open mouths, low moans of pleasure and kiss after kiss.

Fuck, you smell good.

Then he remembered he was this close for a purpose.

"I wouldn't do that, because A—you're marrying my sister, and B—I'm not out. At least, not to my family."

Will's breathing hitched.

"You… You're gay ? Or are you bi?"

For the briefest of moments, Aiden had second thoughts. You're about to share something important with a guy who's drunk. Is this wise? What if he can't keep his mouth shut? What if he says something very loud and very embarrassing that lets everyone in the house know what goes on in your bedroom?

Bathroom.

Kitchen.

Truck, on occasion.

Wherever.

He'd gotten this far. There was no turning back. And besides, something deep inside told him he could trust Will.

"Gay. And that is not for sharing, okay?"

Will's mouth fell open, and he stared at Aiden in silence for so long that Aiden was starting to panic.

Oh shit. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

Will shook his head. "First Becca, now you…"

Aidan didn't have a clue what that meant. "Excuse me?"

He waved his hand. "Doesn't matter. They're gonna have to know sooner or later. You can't spend your life in the closet. You can't keep hiding what you truly are."

Aiden bit his lip. "That's quite profound for someone contemplating his fourth cocktail." He sighed. "I will tell them eventually. Just… not tonight. Not with this big an audience." Then he saw Dad approaching, and clammed up.

Dad tapped Will on the shoulder. "I think I should take you home. You don't have to stay until the end. The party will carry on without you and Becca, trust me. Deb's parties are legendary."

Aiden jumped right in. "Dad's right. Go and get some sleep. And drink plenty of water."

Will pointed to the kitchen. "But…Louise is busy planning."

Dad chuckled. "And she'll keep right on planning without you. It's what she does. I just think you need to get out of here."

Aiden took hold of Will's hand. "Thanks for listening."

Will looked him in the eye, locked into a brief moment of sobriety. "Thanks for sharing." He pulled free, wobbling a little.

Dad put his arm around Will's shoulders, and gave Aiden a proud smile. "In case Deborah forgets to tell you…. You've been an excellent bartender."

"Thanks, Dad." Aiden watched as his dad guided Will through the throng, only to have it swallow them up as people flowed into the gap they'd created, demanding cocktails. Aiden went back to work, pouring spirits into the cocktail shaker, his hands on autopilot.

His mind was on Will.

Why did I tell him? Why open up that particular can of worms? Instinct told him Will wouldn't betray a confidence, but the need to come clean about his sexuality had suddenly been of paramount importance.

Will's reaction told him one thing. His future brother- in-law was not a hater. Thank God.

But that still left the curious remark he'd made.

"First Becca, now you…"

What the hell?

Sunday, December 4

Will's tongue felt like a suede tie in his mouth. People in steel-toe-capped boots were dancing in his head, and a voice at the back of his mind wouldn't shut the fuck up, telling him he'd learned something vital at the party.

It took him several minutes for the recollection to become less fuzzy.

Aiden. Something about Aiden.

Then he had it, and he sat up in bed, his heart doing a happy dance.

He's gay. Aiden Taylor is gay.

Cold inched its way through him. He thinks you're straight, remember?

There had to be something positive on the horizon.

And when he learns the truth?

That relentlessly pessimistic inner voice rang out. Your name is about to be mud, so what good will that do you? He won't be interested in you once Becca calls off the engagement.

The quiet knock on the door took him by surprise. "Come in."

Carl came into the room, carrying a mug and a glass of water. He placed both on the nightstand, then gazed down at Will. "How do you feel?"

"Like someone smashed my brains out with a piece of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick?" He managed to smile. "Something I read once."

Carl's eyes lit up, and he sat on the edge of the bed. "My favorite character was always Zaphod Beeblebrox." He chuckled. "I memorized a few of his lines that I used to use on girls. ‘I am so amazingly cool you could keep a side of meat in me for a month. I am so hip I have difficulty seeing over my pelvis.'"

" The Restaurant at the End of the Universe ." Will smiled. "Another Douglas Adams fan. I have to ask… did the lines work?"

Carl coughed. "Most of them thought I was weird." His smile crinkled the skin around his eyes. "Then I met Louise, and the rest, as they say, is history." He shook his head. "I remember listening to episodes on the radio. The original production, mind you, not the movie they made years later. And Slartibartfast has to be the best name ever, although it's best not to attempt pronouncing it when inebriated."

Will sipped his coffee.

Carl wasn't done. "Will… If you ever need to talk… I'm here for you, okay?"

Which only went to prove to him once more that Becca must have her parents all wrong. He gave Carl a grateful smile. "Thank you." Will's heart gave a pang.

He'd be a wonderful father-in-law.

Another knock had both of them turning their heads.

"Will? You awake?"

Carl gave another chuckle. "Come on in, Becca. I'm just leaving."

She stuck her head around the door, and sniffed. "Ooh, coffee."

He grinned. "Sit here and I'll go get you some." He stood and walked around the bed to where she perched, bending to kiss the top of her head. Once the door closed behind him, Becca's shoulders sagged.

"How are you doing?" Will couldn't remember much about her state the previous evening.

"I felt as though I was locked in some awful nightmare. I kept remembering someone talking about plates of shredded lettuce with side cups of olive oil and balsamic vinegar as dressing, boiled spinach served in half a tomato, cold Chick-fil-A nuggets and veggie trays…" She shivered. "I mean, Chick-fil-A ? Really? One of the most homophobic businesses around. And then I realized I'm still in the nightmare because that's what Kelly was proposing serving after the wedding."

Will had had it with the mythical wedding.

He put his mug aside and regarded her with a hard stare. "Let's be practical here. Are you going to marry me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hell no."

"Okay then. And I'm not going to marry you either, so we both know it isn't going to happen. Now all we have to do is end this."

Becca narrowed her gaze. "You're looking at me again, are you? Because I have to be the one to end it."

He sighed. "No, I'm looking at you because I've come to a decision. You have one week, Becca."

She frowned. "One week to do what?"

"To call a halt. And if you haven't done it by this time next Sunday? I'll do it."

Becca brought her hand to her chest. "You're serious."

"Yup. I'll tell your parents the wedding's off, and that there's no hope of us getting back together. I'll say whatever it takes to get the message across. And don't act so shocked. You knew we had to do this. I just didn't think it would take you this long."

"But what exactly are you going to tell them?" Becca's breathing quickened.

He gave her a kind smile. "I won't mention Kristen, and you don't have to tell them either. Lay it all at my door. I can take it."

Well, most of it. Shutting that door on Aiden was going to hurt.

Becca cocked her head. "Assuming I haven't told them… you're going to tell them after the bachelor party?"

"Sure."

Becca shivered. "Rather you than me."

"What does that mean?"

"It means Mom's going to be pissed, and she can hold onto a grudge until the end of time."

Will forced a smile. "Then isn't it a good thing I'll probably never see her again after this?"

She straightened the comforter. "By the way… You and Aiden were talking a lot last night. What did you talk about?" The forced casual tone let him know this wasn't mere idle curiosity.

"I don't remember."

A lie, but he'd promised not to share.

Becca's eyes flashed. "Well, try harder. Because I already have three messages from him this morning. Okay, one of them was a cute video of Midnight playing with a piece of string, but the other two were asking if I was okay, and offering to lend an ear if I needed one."

Will leaned back against the pillows. "I didn't tell him, if that's what you're asking. I swear." He gave her a thoughtful glance. "It's your birthday this week, right?"

"Yeah. Friday. Not that I'm in a mood to celebrate it."

He smiled. "You know what you should do when we get back? Cook something nice for Kristen. Pull out all the stops, and then let her know it'll all be over in a week." He inclined his head toward the door where footsteps could be heard. "Unless you want to do it now?"

She glared. "It wouldn't be my first choice."

Carl came into the room and handed her a mug of coffee. "Your mom says breakfast will be in about fifteen minutes, so if you want to grab a shower, you'd better move."

"I don't take that long to shower," Becca protested. Both Carl and Will started coughing, and her eyes flashed again. "I do not."

Carl made his excuses and left the room.

Will drank some more coffee. "Of course, calling it off still leaves us with your cousin planning what sounds like the wedding menu from hell."

" Planning is fine. They won't be doing anything yet apart from trying out a few recipes." She shuddered. "Oh yeah. Mom says that's what we're doing next Saturday afternoon, by the way. Tasting sessions."

"Oh God." Never mind telling Carl and Louise—Will was hoping for the Apocalypse.

Becca snickered. "I wouldn't worry. Whatever you eat, you won't notice the aftereffects—the alcohol will destroy everything."

He snorted.

She patted his leg. "Thank you."

"For what? Taking the heat off you? Taking the deed out of your hands? Come on, I had to do something ."

"I'll tell her," Becca promised. Her eyes twinkled. "Probably after I throw up whatever Kelly gave me to taste all over Mom's shoes."

"Ew."

She stood. "And now I'll go take my usual lightning-fast shower."

Will hurriedly put his mug down. "Will you not say stuff like that when my mouth is full of coffee?"

She flipped him the finger as she headed for the door. No sooner had it closed than his phone rang. Will's heart went into overdrive when he saw the caller.

"Hey."

"How's the head this morning?"

"Still on my shoulders." Will paused. "Thanks for trusting me last night."

"Well, if you remembered what I told you, you can't have been all that drunk." Aiden huffed. "Still can't believe I said that."

"Obviously I have one of those faces that inspire trust. I'll keep your secret, but I still think you should take my advice."

"I'll think about it." There was a pause. "Have a safe trip back to school and I'll see you next Saturday. I promise you a night to remember." He hung up.

Any night with you is a night to remember.

And once this was over, the hardest part would begin—trying to forget him.