Page 38 of Say It Again
“And so much fun to play with,” he said, withholding a teasing kiss from the guy. “I wish I could stay here all night.”
He should get Daniel something from the grocery store. He’d probably twist into a tizzy over a box of chocolates. Aaron could almost hear the squeal, all high-pitched and raspy.
“I think about you when I’m at home sometimes,” Aaron said, because that was always a crowd-pleaser. “I find myself hoping you’ll call.”
“Yeah? You like coming over here?”
“Like? I love it.” He almost lost his composure on that one. “But how much more do you want to wear me out tonight? You’ve exhausted me.”
The guy chuckled.
“Show some goddamn mercy.” His voice dripped with seductive sugar as he swiped his tongue over the guy’s lips. “Your Honor.”
“Go.” The guy swatted at him. “So full of it. Go. Get the hell out of here.”
That was his cue. He scrambled off the bed and straight to his clothes before the guy changed his mind.
The judge pushed himself to a seat and fished a joint from his nightstand drawer. He sniffed the length of it, then hovered it over the flame of a lighter. “So, what’s your deal lately? You’re different.”
Aaron checked his phone. Three texts from a fussy client who liked to argue about money, and one from his brother with an article about gay penguins. But only one name made his insides get all warm and slushy:
hARd TO gET OvEr (poor chester)
Hi mister. Thinking about your face and how I want to lick it.
He grinned down at his screen. Thinking about your face and how I can’t wait to see it later. We still on for tonight?
God, yes. If you stand me up, I’ll die. I’ll just crawl into an early grave where I’ll choke the chicken.
Aaron opened his mouth and closed it again, slowly tilting his head to the side.
Is it “choke the chicken” or “kick the bucket”? said Daniel’s follow-up text. I’m not good with idioms.
He chuckled. Split the difference? Kick the chicken? I won’t stand you up, kid :)
His client loudly cleared his throat. Oh shit. The dude had been saying something. Something about Aaron acting differently. “My apologies, sir.”
“Doing that a lot today, aren’t we?”
“What’s that?”
“Apologizing.”
“Sorry.” He hopped to work his jeans up. “What were you saying? I’m different? Different, how?”
“Always checking your phone. Always in a hurry.” The judge took a long drag of the joint, holding his breath at the top of his lungs as he asked, “You got yourself a man or something?”
Aaron didn’t mean to burst into what had to sound like startled laughter. He typically tried to keep the two spheres of his life as separate as possible, but something about it was hilarious. It was the word man. Of course, Daniel was a man, but he felt more like a needy Tamagotchi someone forgot to feed. One who threatened to crawl into a grave and choke the chicken if stood up. “I wouldn’t call him my man.”
“What would you call him?” the judge asked on an exhale, marijuana smoke clouding the room.
“Trouble.” He grinned as he buttoned his jeans. “And a handful.”
“I knew it. Well, let’s see him.” The guy snagged a pair of reading glasses from the nightstand and extended his hand. “You have a picture of the handful?”
He did, actually. He had one picture they’d taken at Daniel’s house; one Daniel had insisted they take with the lens way too close, and their faces squished together to fit inside the frame. For being such a small thing, it was kind of exciting to show it off to someone. To talk about him with another person. His Tamagotchi.
It also highlighted the fact that he didn’t have any friends beyond this. With his secretive lifestyle, he really only had clients to talk to. While it was somewhat inspiring to be surrounded by so many successful men, it was disheartening at the same time. He’d never know money like they knew it with their dignified degrees and titles. At almost thirty, it was too late for him to start over. He’d never have some dignified title. Some dignified life.