Page 76 of Say It Again

Aaron was suddenly growling, pushing up into him all rock-hard, and Daniel was panting, struggling to unbutton dumb buttons. He was seconds away from destroying this gorgeous shirt, ripping it open with his teeth, when—

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Olivia whispered from where she sat curled against the arm of the sofa.

“Geez!” Aaron leaped all the way out of his skin, half scrambling up the back of the couch as Daniel whipped his head around.

“Would it be cool with you guys,” Olivia asked with her phone angled toward them, “if I recorded a little of this?”

Daniel erupted into laughter while Aaron kneaded his temples and whispered, “I forgot she was here.”

“That’s exactly right.” Olivia grinned to herself as she nestled into her seat and presumably pressed Record. “I’m not even here.”

“Okay, no one’s recording shit. You, phone down. And you.” Aaron pointed up at Daniel, leveling him with a smirky look. “You’re a minx, and I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I feel like I’m on drugs. You need to get off my lap before you make things worse.”

Daniel giggled and rolled off him while Aaron adjusted his jeans, muttering a jumble of disputes under his breath.

“I think it’s time we get you two dummies to bed. Go get ready. I’ll take the couch.”

He and Olivia exchanged pouts. “But—”

“It’s 2:00 a.m.” Aaron had an effective parental side-eye. “Bed. Go.”

“Well, yes sir, mister, sir,” Daniel said with a wink as he pulled Olivia from the couch. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Yeah, meow to the authority, Aaron,” Olivia said as Daniel guided her toward the bedroom. “Would you say your brother is very authoritative, or…?”

“Good night, Olivia,” Aaron chuckled. “I can see why you two are friends.”

Daniel held Aaron’s gaze, walking backward on his way to the room just to keep him in view for a bit longer. His boyfriend. His beautiful boyfriend who he loved, who he was in love with. Like, bananas. He waited for Olivia to collapse into the bed, then poked his head out of his room and whispered, “Hey, good night, mister. I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said. Every word.”

Aaron looked a bit frayed, his smile almost forced. He cleared his throat. “I know, yeah. Good night, kid. Get some sleep.”

Oh. Daniel tried not to let his expression teeter as he waved a little wave and crawled into the bed. Blame it on the mushrooms, but he hadn’t noticed until just then.

Aaron never said it back.

Chapter Seventeen

IT WAS a week later, and Aaron was bustling around his house, trying to clean before Daniel arrived. He’d gotten him an apology gift and baked him apology bread. He had a lot to be sorry for. Not only had he missed the concert and ruined their evening, but then he’d sat paralyzed like he’d been stunned still while Daniel spilled the contents of his heart.

Love. It might have been a mushroom-induced spillage, but that was what he’d said to him. That was what he felt for him.

His brain had pulsed with white-hot electricity, pleading for him to say it back. It was so easy for some people. For some people, people like Daniel, it poured from them all unfussy and whole-souled. For him, it was impossible.

The last time he’d said it, he’d been a child. The last time he’d said it, it’d landed on cold blue eyes, hatefully clouded, the exact color of his own. Blue eyes that were already gone, but he’d said it anyway. He’d said it, and then his dad left.

This was different. Of course it was different, because unlike then, he had resources now. He had utility and foresight and a complete fucking bag of tricks.

He had money.

He wasn’t a child anymore—he was a protector. Which was why he had a plan. A plan to protect the precious things around him.

A knock sounded at the door. He opened it to find Daniel grinning, his pouty lips wrapped around a red twist of licorice. He held his phone near his mouth while a woman on the other end—his mom?—spoke about a new carwash that had opened. He mouthed, Hi, mister.

Aaron sighed, half smiling, fully delirious. He might have been unable to say those three words, but he could show them. It was part of the plan.

“Okay, Mama, I have to go. I just got to Aaron’s,” Daniel interrupted her, then said to him, “What smells so good in here? Are you baking things? Mama, Aaron bakes things.”

“Oh my gaaaash, does he?” Daniel’s mom said in a charming Wisconsin accent. “What time will you guys be here tonight? Oh, I’m so excited. You haven’t brought a boy home since that one guy—what was his name? Peter something?”