Page 116 of Say It Again

It forwarded to voicemail, which was fine. No big deal. He probably had class, which was why he had to “take off too.” I will be gone. Do you understand?

“Hey, kid,” he said when the beep sounded. “I was, uh, just thinking about the wedding. I was wondering what you thought about a morning ceremony with breakfast foods. Something bright and airy. White dahlias, maybe. A coffee station with a barista. Sounds mellow, right?” He paused, waiting. For what? For an answer? For something less pathetic to come to mind? “I just. Call me back, Daniel. Please.”

You should kiss me better than that. Like you did at the party.

God, he needed to pull himself together. They’d made an agreement. They’d made it together when they were both of sound mind, and just because it was somewhat unconventional didn’t mean it wasn’t clear. If Daniel needed an out, he’d take the ring off. He hadn’t taken the ring off. That was the agreement.

Aaron buttoned up a shirt and stepped into a pair of jeans, then swiped some styling paste through his hair just in time for the buzzer to his apartment to sound. He jogged to the front door and Marco’s voice chimed over the speaker, “It’s me.”

Better than that. Like you did at the party.

Something a bit like a growl hissed past his lips as he buzzed Marco up. Geez, he needed to get out of his head and into the present moment. He bounced a few times, shaking his arms out. The man on his way up to his apartment deserved him at his best, not consumed by a few lines on repeat. Like you did at the party.

He growled again, hopping higher. Then a knock sounded at the front door, and he halted. He couldn’t move with his stomach twisted into a gnarly knot and his feet rooted in place. Maybe he could play it off as nerves. Who didn’t get nervous on luxury charter jets?

Better than that. Like you did at the party.

He finally glued on a politician’s plastic smile on election day and answered.

“Hi,” Marco said, fully suited and tied, a crisply woven version of everything Aaron wanted to be. “What a sight for sore eyes you are.”

Fuck! He was drowning. He was drowning under the weight of how fake he was while his phone shouted at him from his pocket, begging him to check it. One tiny eye roll emoji. “You too,” he said because he was the fakest person ever. “Come in.”

“Wow.” Marco strolled in, gazing around the apartment. “Aaron, your place. Marvelous.”

While Marco was distracted, Aaron took the opportunity to check his phone. Nothing. “Thank you. Sorry, I’m running late. I’m almost ready. Let me just get my things—”

“There is no rush. We have time.” Marco gently snagged his arm. “We have time for all kinds of things. Come here. I’ve been dreaming of getting to kiss you for four whole days straight.”

You should kiss me better than that.

“Uhm-hmm. Sure. Would love to.”

After a moment Marco said, “Hey, Aaron.”

He zipped his gaze up. He hadn’t realized he’d been nodding at his feet, making any kind of kiss impossible. “Oh. Wow. Sorry.”

Marco gave him a peculiar look. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just—uh. I think I need some water. Haven’t had much today. ’Scuse me.” He darted off toward the kitchen sink.

“Sure you don’t need something stronger than water?” Marco asked with his hands in his pockets and a somewhat amused smile as Aaron chugged half a glass. “Do you get nervous on flights or something?”

He shook his head, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Apparently, he got nauseous on flights, because the thought of getting on a plane with Marco made the ping of nausea that’d been curdling in his stomach peak, but he braced his hands on the sink.

All he needed to do was fake it. He’d done it a thousand times. Fake it for four days. It wouldn’t be that hard. What was so hard about being fake as shit?

I will be gone. He collapsed his elbows to the sink and rubbed his eyes. Fake it. Do you understand? He’d always faked it. He’d faked his way through countless nights and dragging days. Better than that. He’d faked enthusiasm and enjoyment. Every time he’d been with a new man. Like you did at the party. Every single one.

Except for Daniel.

He was drowning. Either that or he was beginning to burn alive. Something inside of him was definitely growing hotter, trying to blow his entire world up. But it was a world that’d been peeling away anyway, layer by layer, chip by chip, fake smile by fake smile. Better than that. It was a world that had started to change with one night. You should kiss me. With one kiss. Like you did at the party.

“Marco,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t—”

“Oh,” Marco suddenly said, his eyebrows lifted as he stared down at something on the counter. “Yikes. Well, no wonder you’re edgy, sweetness.”

“I—wait. What?”