[Boys of the Zodiac 11] Aquarius; He Said, He Said by Jamie Craig

QUARIUS

: H

AID

, H

AID

…Part of me was a little embarrassed about how I’d acted at his

apartment. As soon as he’d mentioned ice cream, I’d turned into some
kid who was never allowed treats. But honestly, I’ve spent a lot of my
life denying myself what I wanted. In high school, I had to watch what
I ate and work out like a maniac to keep my place on the varsity
football team. In college, I could have rattled off half a dozen missed
opportunities for dates at any one time. Since Ellie’s death, I’d put all
my personal desires on the back burner to focus on Sam. The thought
of having ice cream—my favorite food in the whole world—before
dinner, without reason to celebrate or anything like that made me,
well…giddy.

Hence, the embarrassment.
I wanted to make up for it. I had this overwhelming urge to prove

to Peter I was a good father. Parenting obviously meant a great deal to
him, especially in light of his custody agreement, and if our kids were
going to spend a lot of time together—something that seemed
inevitable at this point—I wanted him to respect me.

Seeing him smile was just an added bonus. Albeit, a secret one.
The distant ring of the phone drifted from downstairs.
“I’ll be back in five minutes to make sure you’re still working,” I

warned Sam.

He nodded without looking up at me. Guiltily, I jogged down the

hall and took the stairs two at a time to get to the phone in time.

“Hi, Aaron?” Peter’s voice was instantly recognizable, but he still

helpfully introduced himself. “It’s Peter, uh, Irving.”

I grinned, in spite of myself. Funny that he’d call when I’d just

been thinking of him. Not that I’d tell him that, of course…

LSO

AMIE

RAIG

The Bad And The Beautiful

Calendar Boys Series: January – December

From Dusk To Dawn

His Very Own

A Little Bit Bewitched

Lucky Haunts

The Master Chronicles, Book I – X

Nowhere Man

On The Ragged Edge Of The World

Pas De Deux

Queen Of Diamonds

Serendipity

Son Of A Preacher Man

Star Attraction

Stealing Northe

Stealing West

Sticks And Stones

Those Who Cherish
To Taste The Dawn

Wearing Death

Boys Of The Zodiac

Leo: All That You Are

Scorpio: The Heart to Help

Taurus: All That You Do

AQUARIUS:

HE SAID, HE SAID

JAMIE CRAIG

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

QUARIUS

: H

AID

, H

AID

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-053-5

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Aquarius: Smart, sociable, and stubborn.

An Aquarius might be slow to let you into his life, but once you’re

there, you’re there for good.

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

CHAPTER 1

“But I hate the park! Are you listening to me? I don’t want to

go to the park.”

“What do you want to do?” I asked, mainly to let Morgan know

I was listening to him. I wasn’t going to change our plans just so
he could spend the entire day holed up in his room with his
computer.

“I want to play games.”
“You can play games at the park.”
“But I don’t want to play stupid games at the park. I hate

everybody there anyway. And they hate me.”

The tone of his voice pulled my attention away from the

sizzling bacon on the stove. “Nobody hates you, Morgan. Don’t
talk like that.”

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

“They do. They call me names.”
“Who calls you names?”
Morgan folded his arms and sank deeper into his chair, his

mouth pulled into a tiny pout. He wouldn’t meet my eyes either.
Morgan is very bright, but he seems to have problems making
friends. He doesn’t play with anybody at recess. His mother had
shrugged off Mrs. Johnson, claiming that Morgan came from a
long line of introverts. Which was certainly true enough. Both of
us had been outsiders in high school, drawn together out of a
shared sense of loneliness more than anything else. But there was a
difference between being shy and being bullied.

He still wasn’t speaking to me by the time I finished

scrambling the eggs. He barely looked up when I set the plate in
front of him, though his nostrils did flare at the tantalizing and
irresistible scent of his favorite breakfast. I even added a bit of
ketchup to the eggs for the reddish tint that delighted him so much.
Why he found the thought of bloody eggs so appealing, I didn’t
know. There was a growing list of things I didn’t know about the
boy.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I hate it.”
“You don’t hate eggs and bacon. It’s your favorite breakfast.

Would you like some toast with it?”

“No. Toast scratches my tongue.”
“Not if you put enough jam on it.”
Morgan picked up his fork and poked at the eggs without any

real interest, his face still set in a sulk. The extended lower lip and
silent treatment probably worked on Christina, but only because

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

she didn’t have the patience for such theatrics. It was certainly
quicker and easier just to give in to him. I’d been tempted more
than once. I was tempted right that minute to toss the whole thing
in the sink and tell him to go to his room. Morgan found a way to
test my high ideals at least once an hour.

“Do kids bug you at school?”
“No.”
“Do they bug you when you go to the park?”
“No.”
I mentally sighed and made a show of digging into my eggs,

sans ketchup. Morgan stared at his feet, ignoring all my attempts at
demonstrating what a great meal he was missing out on. One of my
ideals of parenting involved sticking to my guns and never
negotiating with a hostile party. I was his father, I got to make the
rules.

“If you eat your breakfast, you can have some extra time on the

computer tonight.”

He looked up from beneath his bunny lashes, his green eyes

thoughtful, almost calculating. Not unlike his mother’s. “How
much?”

Maybe I should have been proud of him for not agreeing to

anything without studying the fine print first. Now the negotiations
were beginning in earnest. I took a swallow of my orange juice and
pretended to contemplate the answer.

“Thirty minutes.”
“An hour.”
“No. You haven’t finished your homework.”
“What if I finish my homework?”
I decided to overlook that his homework should have been

finished last night before bedtime. I also didn’t want him to figure

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

out that the deal was more heavily weighted in my favor. Breakfast
and homework were big victories.

“If you finish your breakfast and your homework, then yes, you

can have an extra hour tonight.”

Morgan grinned widely and dug into his eggs with such sincere

gusto that I had a feeling I’d been played. I didn’t interrupt him
again, but made a mental note to ask about the name-calling later.
After he finished, he carried his plate to his sink and washed his
hands without being told, then tried to hurry by me. I caught him
before he could make his escape and hauled him close, giving him
a good squeeze and planting a kiss on his cheek before he
squirmed away.

He rubbed his cheek with affront. “Da-ad.”
“What?” I wiggled my fingers at him. “Better go get your shoes

on before I start tickling.”

Morgan huffed his I’m too old for these games huff before

marching away. He probably was too old for those games. When
he was four, nothing delighted him more than a quick hug and visit
from the tickle monster. But now he was eight—going on nine as
he so often reminded me—and tickling wasn’t quite as amusing as
it used to be. I wasn’t even sure how he got to be so old. We didn’t
spend as much time together as I’d like, but that didn’t explain
how he’d sprouted two inches in the past six months, or why I
needed to buy him a new pair of shoes every six weeks.

I busied myself in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher,

scrubbing the pans from the night before, and sweeping the floor. I
expected Morgan to resume his place at the table and wait for me,
feet kicking impatiently at the chair legs.

“Morgan!” I waited several beats, then tried again. “Morgan!

Come on, we’ve got to get moving. Let’s go.”

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

Still no response.
I knew what I’d find before I opened his door, but I still made a

show of being utterly astounded that he didn’t have his shoes on or
his hair combed. In fact, he was even less ready than before, since
he’d changed into a ratty green T-shirt that should have been
tossed in the trash last summer.

“I just needed to do something real quick,” Morgan protested.
“No, you didn’t. You needed to put your shoes on and get

ready to go to the park. Now get up.”

“But—”
“Get off the computer right now.”
“I just need to get to a save.”
“I’m going to unplug the computer if you don’t get up.

Honestly, Morgan. You know better than this.”

“Why can’t I just stay here? I don’t get to play at all when I’m

at Mom’s.”

“So I should just let you sit in front of the computer all day?

Come on. Grab your baseball mitt. We’ll play catch.”

“I don’t want to play catch. I suck at it anyway.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. The ball always hits me in the face.”
“The ball hit your face once. Two years ago.”
“No, it was last year.”
“But you admit it was only one time. Fine, we won’t play

catch. Just please put your shoes on.”

Morgan was a good kid, and generally, I didn’t have to ask him

more than ten or twelve times. He stopped over to the bed and
pulled his Keds on with jerky, short gestures.

“You don’t have to watch me,” Morgan grumbled.
“Yes, I do. Don’t forget your hat.”

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

We got out of the house only thirty minutes later than I

planned. Morgan grudgingly agreed to hold my hand, but he made
it clear that it was another thing he absolutely detested about the
day. Wouldn’t it be easier to just let him stay on the damned
computer? Unfortunately, the path of least resistance usually
wasn’t the path to great parenting. But Morgan clearly resented
every minute we spent together, so I wasn’t sure if I’d even
recognize the path of great parenting.

The park was just around the corner, four city blocks long and

three wide. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it and it was
pretty much the deciding factor when I chose my apartment. I
envisioned spending hours there with Morgan, playing catch,
running laps on the jogger’s circuit, maybe even bringing
hypothetical dogs there for their hypothetical walks. Since I
couldn’t afford a house with a proper yard, this seemed an
excellent compromise for fresh air and sunshine. The closest
Morgan would ever get to the simple pleasure I had growing up in
the country, away from the city’s noise and pollution. I don’t know
exactly what Morgan saw when he looked at the park, but I had a
good guess that it didn’t involve carefree joy and hours of
entertainment.

“Why don’t you go start on the swings?” I suggested.
“Okay.” Morgan dragged his feet like I’d sent him to his

executioner. I followed at a slower pace, surveying the play area
for any familiar faces. I recognized a few of the fathers and nodded
at their small waves. Some of the mothers waved, too, a few with
smiles that seemed a little too welcoming. The park after dark was
more my style—not that I’d ever cruised the park—but apparently
women had the same sort of idea when the sun was out. At least a
percentage of the single mothers there seemed to be interested in

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

dating. Specifically, they were interested in dating me.

A blond man on the other side of the sandbox caught my

attention. He was definitely new—I’d remember that face and
body. A blind man would. He seemed a little out of place, standing
by himself on the grass with his arms folded and a heavy frown
that was definitely out of place among the laughing kids. He didn’t
seem unhappy, like Morgan who wasn’t even pretending to swing
at that point, but I had the sense that he didn’t know what to make
of the chaos in front of him.

“Come on, Morgan. I’ll give you a push.”
“Fine.”
I pulled him off the ground by about a foot and sent him sailing

forward. He kept his knees bent and didn’t even try to swing the
momentum backward. He came to a stop with the bottom of his
shoes sliding over the sand.

“I think you’re missing the point of the swing,” I said lightly,

pulling on the chains again. Morgan twisted his body just as I let
go, legs outstretched, the chains winding together. A blond boy
happened to run by the swings in the same moment, as Morgan’s
foot connected with his shoulder, knocking him to the sand.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing over to help him to his feet.

He seemed daze as I pulled him upright. “You took quite a hit
there.”

“You should stay out of the way!” Morgan shouted from beside

me, his face red with anger.

“Morgan Irving. First, apologize for shouting. Then, apologize

for kicking him. He just didn’t see you.”

A shadow fell over the ground, and the boy yanked out of my

grasp to run to the new arrival. It was the blond I noticed earlier,
and that close, he looked even better. The sort that you don’t

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

approach in a club, you just hang back and admire the view and
take bets on who he’d be going home with that night. He wrapped
a possessive arm around his son, his face hardening as the boy’s
shoulders started to shake.

“I’m sorry,” I started. “We were playing on the swings and we

didn’t see him.”

“Why don’t you try to keep your kid under control?”
“Hey, it was an accident. No reason to get upset.”
“And I heard your little brat shouting at him.”
“Don’t call my son a brat.”
“Tell him to stop acting like one.” The stranger held his son

away from him, inspecting the smaller body for damage. There
wasn’t any. I’d seen and been in much worse collisions involving
swings. He’d probably be back to running around like nothing
happened once the sting faded. The blond ushered his son away,
and I barely caught the soft, “Are you hurt?”

“I didn’t mean to hit him,” Morgan muttered, now looking

more sorry than upset.

“I know.”
“It was an accident.”
I nudged him over to where they were both pointedly ignoring

us. “Go tell him that.”

“His dad looks mad.”
“I know, but apologizing is the right thing to do. I’ll be right

here.”

Morgan set his shoulders and walked with purpose across the

sandbox. The boy’s dad did look mad, though I hadn’t seen any
torn clothes or traces of blood. Honestly, he was blowing the
whole thing out of proportion. I watched with trepidation as
Morgan approached, hoping that the blond wasn’t the sort of

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

jackass who’d call a child a brat right to his face. Because then
there would have to be a fight, which wouldn’t set a good example
for the children. Not to mention that Blondie was built and could
probably pound me right into the ground with a single blow. How
much would it screw Morgan up to see his father beat and
humiliated on the playground?

“Excuse me,” Morgan said loudly when neither acknowledged

his approach. I swallowed a sigh and moved closer.

The boy looked up and wiped a hand over his watery eyes. He

was probably about Morgan’s age, though he was probably a good
ten pounds lighter. He wasn’t as tall as Morgan, either. He was
pretty adorable, though, his father’s handsome features translating
into unbelievable cuteness on the smaller face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
The boy sniffed and nodded.
“My name’s Morgan.” When the boy didn’t respond, he

impatiently added, “What’s yours?”

“Sammy.”
Morgan reached out and brushed some sand off Sammy’s arm.

“Do you want to swing?”

Sammy shook his head.
“Come on,” Blondie said. “I think we’ve had enough

excitement for one day.”

Sammy made a distressed sound. “I wanted to go on the merry-

go-round.”

The merry-go-round was a plastic contraption that didn’t spin

very much. It was nothing like the sphere of sheet metal that I’d
spent most of my childhood flying off. Morgan didn’t like it. I’d
never seen him go anywhere near it. But he scuffed his shoe
against the sand and nodded at the toy.

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

“I was going to go on the merry-go-round.”
Sammy peered up at his father, the tears drying from the

corners of his eyes. “Please, can I?”

Blondie gave him another once-over and brushed more sand off

his legs before nodding. “Yeah, but be careful, okay?”

I watched with no less than complete amazement as my anti-

social child took Sammy by the hand and practically dragged him
across the playground.

“He better not hurt him again,” Blondie muttered.
My hackles rose like a wet cat, but I summoned a smile instead

of an indignant hiss. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I’m Peter and that’s
Morgan.”

Though he kept his arms folded across his chest like a shield,

the man jerked his head toward the boys. “That’s Sam. Or Sammy.
Some days, he thinks it’s a baby name.” He sighed. “I guess
today’s not one of those days.”

“It’ll probably be a baby name by tomorrow.” I waited for

Blondie to add something or introduce himself, but he was still
watching the boys like a hawk. Which gave me the chance to study
him from the corner of my eye. He was even better looking this
close. It was only too bad that he was a bit of an ass. “Is your name
a baby name?”

The question took him off-guard, and he looked at me sharply,

heavy brows pulled together. “It’s Aaron. Hardison.” The last
name came as an afterthought. I could practically hear the period.

I might have walked away from him then if Morgan wasn’t

happily pushing Sammy around the merry-go-round. I’d never
seen Morgan take so quickly to somebody, though I vaguely
remembered my own flash friendships at that age. It was easy to
meet your soulmate on the playground between the ages of six and

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

nine, only to forget them as soon as you stepped outside the
boundaries of the park.

“Pleased to meet you, Aaron Hardison. Are you new to the

neighborhood? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Because we haven’t been here before. The pollen count’s been

too high this year.”

“For you or Sammy?” I asked lightly.
Another sharp glance. “Sam. He has problems breathing

sometimes.”

I was beginning to sense that Mr. Aaron Hardison didn’t like

me much. “I’m sorry to hear that. It looks like he’s doing well
today, though.”

“Yeah. His last lung function test came up strong. We had a

deal if it improved, we’d work out a park schedule. Today’s our
first time.”

“Wow, good for him.” I said a quick prayer of thanks that for

all of the issues with Morgan, there were no allergies or lung issues
to contend with. He’d always been healthy and strong, at the top of
every scale, scoring well in every test. But if this was his first time,
it might explain why he didn’t know to avoid the swings—he
probably wouldn’t forget again, though. “Is it just you and him
today?”

His head turned away as he watched the boys clamber off the

merry-go-round and race toward the climbing structure. “It’s
always me and him. Should they be going over there?”

I watched them long enough to confirm they were indeed going

toward the climbing structure and not some hazardous waste I
hadn’t noticed before. “Sure. The kids love it. They like to race to
the top.”

“The top?” He started to march toward them. “Oh, no, that’s

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

too high.”

“They’re fine, Aaron.” I quickly caught up with him, but his

attention was locked on Sammy, who in turn was clinging to the
structure about three feet off the ground. “You know how it is
these days. Any dangerous equipment is ripped out and replaced
with foam rubber.”

“He could still fall. Or someone could kick him and knock the

wind out of him. Sammy!” The little boy looked up at the sound of
his name, his excited smile fading a little at the sight of his
approaching father. “It’s time to go.”

“But—”
“No buts. You got to play on the merry-go-round, didn’t you?”
Slowly, Sammy disengaged. “We were having fun.”
I knew better than to interfere on Sammy’s half, but Morgan

didn’t. “It’s not time to go yet. Dad, tell him that we’re playing.”

“If Sammy’s dad says it’s time for him to go home, then it’s

time for him to go home.”

“But we were going to build a sand castle next!”
“Yeah,” Sammy added, “and then kick it down.”
The silence stretched as Aaron regarded his son’s expectant

face. Hope shone in his bright blue eyes, vivid enough to make me
wish I could pull Aaron aside and explain exactly how safe the
playground really was.

“Next time.” Taking Sammy’s hand, Aaron surprised me by

turning back in my direction. “Maybe we can make a play date or
something with Morgan’s father.”

I think I did a good job of hiding my shock. A better job than

Morgan did of hiding his excitement at the suggestion. I was just
glad that Aaron’s suggestion was enough to take the heartbreak out
of Sammy’s eyes and the growing frown from Morgan’s face.

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“A play date would be great. What about Tuesday afternoon?”

I didn’t want to make the boys wait a week, if only because
Morgan might forget about how much fun he’d had with Sammy.

“Tuesday’s good, isn’t it, Dad?”
When Aaron met his son’s gaze, he visibly softened. The man

might be kind of a jerk, but there was no denying he loved his kid.
“Yeah. We’ll make that work.”

After agreeing on the time and location, Aaron herded Sammy

away, making a quick escape. I ruffled Morgan’s hair until he
smacked my hand away with irritation.

“So you like Sammy?”
“Yeah, he’s all right.”
“The two of you seemed like you were having fun.”
“He’s pretty funny. Did you know he’d never even been on a

merry-go-round?”

“No. So you’re going to show him the ropes?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re going to show him around the playground.”
“I guess so. He’s pretty small.”
“I don’t think he’s that much smaller than normal. But you

should be a bit careful when you’re running around. He has
allergies, and he might have difficulty breathing.”

“Okay. Can we go home now?”
I’d dragged him there for sunshine, exercise, and socialization.

Satisfied that all three requirements had been met for the day, I
nodded and held my hand out. Morgan’s hand was clammy and
gritty with sand, his chubby fingers closing around mine with an
unconscious confidence I never wanted him to lose.

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

CHAPTER 2

The blur of voices droned together in the background as I got

on my hands and knees to crawl under my desk. Sammy’s gaze
weighed heavy on my back, expectant, hopeful. My stomach
twisted when I found nothing but dust bunnies.

“It’s not here,” I said, backing out of the narrow space.
Sammy’s face fell. “It has to be.”
“It’s not. Why were you playing in here anyway? You know

my office is off-limits.”

He gnawed at his lower lip. Every time he did that, he

reminded me of his mother, and a momentary pang of grief would
pass through me. That had been Ellie’s guilty habit of choice, too.

“You don’t have carpet under your desk.”
“I don’t have your car, either. Where else—” Something on the

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line caught my attention, and I turned my head away to better
listen. Holding my hand up to gesture at Sammy to keep quiet, I
unmuted my earpiece and said, “Does anybody in this department
even understand what Quality Assurance means?”

Dead silence filled the line.
I stifled my desire to swear at them. “I am not going to sign off

on this project when we know damn well it’s going to break on
them the first time some idiot doesn’t do the shut-down correctly.
Someone needs to fix this.”

Alastair, the chief engineer, cleared his throat. “Mr. Hardison,

it’s not an easy—”

“I’m not interested in ‘it’s not easy.’ I’m interested in getting

this right.” The door clicked shut behind me, and I turned to see
the empty void Sammy had just filled. “I’ve got to go. I want a full
report on how we’re going to address this at our meeting on
Friday.”

Though I heard more than one protest at my abrupt tone, I

disconnected from the call and tossed the earpiece onto the desk.
“Sammy!” I marched out after him. His bedroom door was shut.
The twists in my gut grew tighter.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door and waited.

Sammy opened it almost immediately. The lip was back between
his teeth again, the way he looked up at me through his lashes
diffusing the rest of my anger.

“Did you find it?”
He shook his head.
“Well, we’ll have to go without it.”
“But I wanted to show Morgan!”
“You can show him next time.”
“I get to play with him again?”

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Too late, I realized I’d just committed Sammy to another date

with the Irving kid. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Sammy to have
friends. I did. It killed me that he had to fight so hard to try and fit
in. It certainly didn’t help that he missed out on a lot of the
activities that bonded the other boys together because of the
problems we’d always fought with his health. I wanted him to be
able to go outside, and run around, and play catch whenever he
wanted, but after so many trips to the hospital because he’d caught
pneumonia again or was coughing so hard he was giving himself
bloody noses or just plain couldn’t breathe, I’d learned to let that
go. I’d already lost Ellie. I wasn’t going to lose Sammy, too.

But I wasn’t convinced the Irving kid was the best boy to start

a friendship with. He’d knocked Sammy down with the swing, for
starters. Then, he’d taken Sammy around to all the most dangerous
equipment at the park. Kids didn’t understand the risks, and the
way this one’s dad kept yapping in my ear only distracted me from
keeping a better eye on Sammy.

Still, Sammy seemed to like him, and Morgan’s disappointment

at having to stop their playtime so soon had looked genuine. I’d
just suck it up and hope I was wrong about his effect on my son.

“Of course, you do.” I ruffled the top of his hair and smiled.

“Why don’t you find something else to show Morgan? We can
figure out where you might have left the car on the ride over to the
park.”

His brilliant grin made it all worth it.
Though the park was only a couple blocks away, I still drove

the short distance. It gave me the freedom of knowing I could get
Sammy to an ER fast if necessary, as well as lessened his exposure
to the outside air. I parked as close to the playground as I could
get, but Sammy had his seat belt unbuckled and his door open

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before I’d even taken the key out of the ignition. He was off like a
shot, running faster than I’d ever seen him go, toward the merry-
go-round.

With the weather so nice, kids clustered around the equipment

like flies, while their parents created their own little groups along
the perimeter of the play area. Most of them were moms, some
with strollers, some without, traveling in their packs as they paid
more attention to the other adults in the area than their offspring. A
few men diffused the estrogen cloud, but one in particular drew my
attention the most. Mostly because Sammy was barreling straight
for him.

I’ll be honest. I hadn’t noticed much about Peter Irving when

we’d met. I was too worried about Sammy, afraid that he’d push
himself too hard and too fast and suffer the consequences. He so
rarely got to play outside—the pollen count hurt his chances when
it was warm, and the cold aggravated his asthma—that I was sure
he’d try to do too much. He had an adventurous spirit. It was just a
shame he didn’t have the health to support it.

So I was a little surprised that I recognized Peter. If someone

had asked me an hour ago what he looked like, I would have stared
at them blankly. In the four years I’d been working from home, my
ability to remember faces had dwindled into nothing. But the dark
hair and tall, lean frame I zeroed in on felt…familiar. Very. Like I
saw him every day. That bugged me a little. Because I didn’t know
this guy at all. I didn’t even know what he did for a living. All I
knew was that Sammy liked his kid, that he kept on talking
whether someone was listening or not, and that he had these long,
well-manicured, almost graceful hands he moved around a lot
when he talked.

Yes, I realize what that sounds like. I might have a small fetish

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about hands.

Sammy had already reached him and Morgan before I’d even

moved onto the grass. I was too far away to hear what they were
saying, but before Sammy’s mouth stopped moving, Peter’s head
was swiveling in my direction. He grinned when he saw me and
waved me over.

My temper was short because of the idiots I worked with who

thought a half-assed job was good enough, so I really wasn’t in the
mood for company, but ignoring Peter or walking in a different
direction would make me look like a jerk. If our kids were going to
be friends, I had to make an effort.

As I headed across the grass, a single, unbidden—and wholly

unwanted—thought crept in. I promptly shoved it away. It didn’t
matter that Peter had a geeky cuteness about him. He wasn’t my
type. Not specifically because he was a guy, because even when
his gender had been my preference, he wouldn’t have been my
type.

Besides, I wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone right

now, male or female. Sammy needed stability, not disruptions, and
porn was readily available to take the edge off when I got too
horny.

And I was going straight to hell for thinking about porn on a

kids’ playground. Especially standing in front of a probably very
straight father.

I nodded my head in greeting and immediately turned to see

what the kids were doing. I hadn’t been this uncomfortable
since…well, the last time I’d come to the park.

“You can relax a little. I told Morgan the climbing equipment

and the merry-go-round were off-limits for the day,” Peter said.
“He brought his pail and shovel for some serious castle building.”

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I grimaced. I should’ve thought of that.
“Sammy really wanted to show Morgan his favorite car, but we

couldn’t find it before we left.” I glanced at Peter out of the corner
of my eye. “I told him, next time. You know. If Morgan’s
interested in playing with him again.”

“I hate it when the favorites disappear. It was bad enough when

he lost his Matchbox cars. Now it’s video games, and he’s always
shocked by my refusal to just buy him a replacement.”

I think I was beginning to understand some of Morgan’s appeal

to Sammy. “Please tell me you don’t have a Wii.”

“Not yet, but he acts like he’ll die if he doesn’t have one soon.

I’m holding out until Christmas, at least.”

“If the boys turn into real friends, I’ll pay you to hold out even

longer.”

“What’s wrong with the Wii? Is it something personal against

Nintendo?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just worry Sam would push himself too

hard with it if we got one.” My gaze drifted back to the boys. Lo
and behold, they were both crouched in the sand, feet bare, digging
away. I stifled the urge to yell at Sammy to put his shoes back on.
He wasn’t going to get anything into his lungs through his toes.
“Until the most recent tests, he wasn’t ever really strong enough to
spend much time outside. So he’s turned into an expert gamer,
instead.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “Well, that’s it then. You better get

used to me. If I let him, Morgan would spend every single waking
second on his computer. He’d sleep at the desk and insist I’d feed
him by hand so as not to disrupt his game.”

“Just you? You’re not married?”
“Divorced. Morgan’s only with me part-time.”

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“Well, at least you get that. I know a few guys who only see

their kids on some of the holidays. And usually the shitty ones, like
Memorial Day or Good Friday.”

“I had to fight for it.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest,

standing with his hands tucked under his arms, his hip jutting out a
bit. His T-shirt pulled down a little, exposing the sharp line of his
collarbone. “All in all, I got the best arrangement I realistically
could. It never seems like enough, though.”

I’ll admit, I was curious. But I knew that if I started asking

questions, he’d probably turn around and start asking the same
kind of questions back at me, and the last thing I wanted was to
think about Ellie right now. I was lucky I’d gotten off easy with
my prying so far.

“Was…Morgan as excited as Sam was about today?” I asked,

carefully testing the waters.

“Let me put it this way. I usually have to bribe him with thirty

minutes of extra computer time before he’ll stop whining about the
park. Today he wanted to come straight here after school because
he didn’t want to be late.”

His answer provoked a mixed response in me. On one hand, I

was kind of happy somebody seemed eager to be Sammy’s friend.
On the other, I still wasn’t sure I wanted that somebody to be
Morgan Irving, though the more Peter talked, the more it seemed
the boys had a lot in common.

The boys hadn’t strayed an inch from their place in the sand,

and there wasn’t even a breeze in the air to add to my worry. When
I noticed a pair of young mothers abandoning a nearby bench, I
jerked my chin toward it.

“We’ll probably be here for a while. Want to sit?”
Peter flashed a dopey grin. He probably had to be in his early

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thirties, but when he smiled like that, he looked at least ten years
younger. He called Morgan’s name and waited for the boy to look
up before walking over to the bench. Morgan waved him off in
favor of upending the small bucket of sand over the top of a
vaguely blockish lump that served as the castle’s base.

“Is Sammy going to be okay for awhile? I checked the pollen

count this afternoon. It didn’t seem too high.”

“No, he should be good for the next half hour at least. It’s at a

good range today. But I’ve got prednisone in the car in case
something happens.”

“Do you think something will?”
I watched Sammy scooting around on his knees, digging a

trench around their growing creation. He was laughing, and there
were spots of pink high in his pale cheeks. My chest tightened. I
couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him so animated.

“I really hope not. But we’ve learned the hard way it’s better to

be prepared.”

“Is there any possibility he’ll grow out of it, or…”
“Oh, yeah, there’s always the possibility. And his doctor is

actually optimistic after his last lung function. If it keeps up, we
might even be able to lower some of his dosages.”

Peter brightened. “That’s good. He might have a lucrative

career as a contractor ahead of him. Look, his side of the castle is
still standing.”

I’d be happy to make it to junior high at this rate, but I

wouldn’t say that out loud. “What about you?” I asked Peter.
“What do you do?”

“I’m a veterinary lab technician. I process a lot of feline urine

samples.”

I had started to turn back to watch the boys when the

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description of his job stopped me. I stared at him and waited for
the punchline, but it never came.

“Seriously? You work with…cat pee.”
Peter laughed. “Among other things. I always wanted to be a

vet. I thought it would be great to work with animals, but I’m
allergic to all cats and most dogs, so I had to take a less direct
route.”

It still sounded less than appealing. Suddenly, being stuck in

my office on the phone all day didn’t seem so bad. “Well, we don’t
have any pets, so you’ll be safe at our house if you ever come
over.”

“That’s good to know. What do you do for a living? Something

as glamorous as my job?”

“I have my own consulting company. I manage commercial

construction projects.” I smiled. It was surprisingly easy after my
earlier doubts about Peter. “So, no, it’s not really that glamorous,
either.”

“Dad!”
We both looked up at the same time. Morgan raced toward us,

and my attention immediately went to Sam. He was running, too,
albeit at a slower pace, a big grin on his face. My heart slowed to
its proper rate, though I still watched him carefully, looking for
any signs that he exerted himself too much.

“What?”
“We want to play Lego Star Wars,” Morgan said breathlessly,

stopping just before he slammed into Peter’s knees.

“So?”
“So, can we go back to our apartment and play? Please?”
“You’re building a sand castle.”
“That’s boring. Sammy’s never played Lego Star Wars and he

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really wants to.”

“Please, Dad.” Sam trained his baby blues on me, the pleading

just seeping from every pore in his small body. “I’ve already done
all my homework.”

“What happened to wanting to play outside?”
“I wanna play with Morgan. He says it’s really cool. When you

shoot them, they explode in about a zillion little Legos—”

“Morgan probably has homework, too, you know.”
“No, I don’t,” Morgan said quickly. “Well, I have my reading,

but we can do that before bed tonight, right? Please?”

Peter glanced at me. “If it’s okay with Mr. Hardison, then it’s

okay with me. But that counts as your computer time for the rest of
the day.”

I wanted to say yes. I did. Sammy didn’t ask for much, so when

he did, I tried to do what I could to give it to him. Deals like the
park if his function results were good, trips to visit his
grandparents, too many video games to even count. Morgan
seemed eager to be on his best behavior today, too. The brat who’d
knocked Sammy over yesterday was nowhere to be seen.

But what did I really know about Peter Irving except what he’d

told me? I wasn’t sure I was comfortable sending my only child
over to his house based on the brief acquaintance we’d struck.

My eyes moved from Sammy’s hopeful little face, to Peter’s

waiting smile. The sneaky thought about how cute he was that had
slipped beneath my defenses when we’d arrived whispered again
in my ear. Another reason to keep my distance.

The only problem was…there wasn’t a hint of guile in that

sculpted face. He almost looked as innocent as Sammy often did.

“It’s okay with me if Mr. Irving lets me buy dinner for all of us

tonight as a thank you for having you over,” I heard myself saying.

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“Can we get pizza?”
“Mr. Irving hasn’t said yes, yet.”
Both boys looked at Peter with unguarded hope, as though he

held the key to their eternal happiness. “Yes, you can play Lego
Star Wars.”

“Thank you!” Morgan grabbed Sam by the wrist and started to

pull him away, but Peter’s hand darted out to stop him in his
tracks.

“Wait. You’re not going to drag him down the road. Mr.

Hardison will meet us at our apartment.” He pried the boys apart.
“We only live around the corner.”

I frowned as I stood. “Why don’t I just drive all of us over

there?”

“Sure. That makes sense. Morgan, come here. You’ve got sand

all over you.”

“I’ve got it,” Morgan insisted, brushing his legs off.
They followed me back to the car, Morgan occasionally

voicing protest as Peter brushed more of the sand away. Sam was
covered, too, pausing every few minutes to hit at his jeans.

“Sorry, he’s still filthy,” Peter said as Sam opened the door for

Morgan. “Oh good, your car is immaculate.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’ll just vacuum it out when we

get home.”

Because paying the price of a little sand to see that look on my

son’s face as he clambered into the backseat with his new friend?
Totally worth it.

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

CHAPTER 3

I watched the kids play while Aaron excused himself to the

kitchen to take a call, wondering what it was about Sammy
Hardison that Morgan found so appealing. Despite my earlier
predictions that Morgan would grow bored with the blond boy, he
seemed more taken with him than ever. They sat side by side on
the computer, mostly taking turns killing Lego storm troopers. A
few times, Morgan didn’t want to stop playing and sort of bullied
his way through an extra turn before relinquishing the keyboard to
Sammy. Sam, for his part, didn’t allow himself to be pushed
around too much, reclaiming every second that Morgan initially
took from him. My son could be very overwhelming, and I’ve seen
him roll over his playmates before, but Sam didn’t let him get
away with too much. He was very self-possessed. Quite an

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impressive feat given Aaron’s obvious, though entirely justified,
overprotectiveness.

I left the boys to play in peace, following the slightly angry

sound of Aaron’s voice. He paced in the small kitchen, walking a
straight line from the sink to the table and back again. Honestly,
I’ve never met a guy as tightly wound as Aaron, and if our paths
had crossed in different circumstances—in a different life even—I
would have eagerly taken that as a challenge. He needed somebody
to help him relax, and I knew I shouldn’t, but I was already
forming a short list of activities that would erase the strained frown
from his face. I’d love to make him smile, especially since I hadn’t
seen Aaron smile once since we met.

He looked up as I entered the room and gestured at the phone,

indicating he’d be done soon. I shrugged and pulled some apples
from the fruit bowl. Aaron stopped pacing long enough to watch
me arrange them on a plate, along with some raisins and a couple
boxes of juice.

“Is this okay?” I mouthed, nodding down the hall.
With a nod, he waved me on, turning back to bark a question

about standards to whatever unfortunate soul he had on the other
line. I took the snack to the boys, though they were both too
engrossed in the monitor to notice me, and returned to the kitchen
in time to see Aaron disconnecting.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I just wanted to let them know I’d

be unavailable the rest of the day, and I got sucked into more
stupidity.”

I glanced at the clock above the stove—it was already after

five. “You must work long hours.”

“We’re in the last couple laps on our project. I work what I

need to in order to make sure the job gets done.” His gaze drifted

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toward the doorway. I wondered how he managed when Sammy
was at school and he couldn’t just poke his head around the corner
to see him. “How’re they doing?”

“They’re pleased as pigs in…mud. If they need anything, the

door’s open. We’ll hear them.”

With his call done, Aaron seemed at odds what to do with

himself now. The hand he’d slipped into his pocket fidgeted,
jingling his keys. We both heard the muffled sound at the same
time. He immediately stopped and pulled his hand out again.

“This is…a little weird for me,” he said. “Sammy’s never had a

play date before.”

I would have suggested that Aaron take an hour to himself, run

errands, get a coffee, normal things like that, but I knew he
wouldn’t even consider it. “We don’t have to stand in here staring
at each other awkwardly. We could watch a movie, or you could
go through my bookshelves and get to know me. Or, if you have
more calls to make, I don’t mind. You could use the bedroom if
you want more privacy.”

Yes, I suggested Aaron use my bedroom. No, I don’t know

what I was thinking of when I said it. And yes, I knew I would
now be plagued with not-entirely-unwelcome thoughts of Aaron in
my bedroom.

“Well, I could get the pizza ordered. At this hour, it’ll take

them over an hour to get here anyway.” The phone came out again,
and he scrolled through his numbers until he found the one he
wanted. Before connecting, however, he glanced at the fridge. “Do
I need to order something for us to drink? With the day I’ve had,
I’m not sure juice is going to cut it.”

“Have you found a pizza place that delivers beer?”
Believe it or not, a twinkle appeared in his eye. It wasn’t a

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smile, but hell if it didn’t do wonders to vanquish some of the
tension in his shoulders. It was probably a good thing it wasn’t a
smile. There was no telling what kind of effect he could generate
with one of those.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” he said, and hit send. I listened to him

greet whoever answered the phone with more geniality than I’d
heard from him ever, then order two large pizzas, buffalo wings,
garlic bread, and a six-pack of “the usual.”

“No, no, I’m not at home.” He rattled off my address, said

goodbye, and disconnected. “An hour and fifteen,” he told me.

I sat and kicked the chair across from me from beneath the

table. Aaron took my silent invitation, and it wasn’t until he was
opposite me that I realized I have a really shitty kitchen table. It
was fine for sharing meals with Morgan—I always ate in front of
the television when he was at Christina’s—but Aaron’s crisp
appearance made me realize it left much to be desired. The scores
of crayon marks were the most attractive thing about it.

“You order in a lot?”
“More than I should. Sometimes, work runs away from me, and

it’s just easier.”

“I always order in when Morgan isn’t here. It’s hard to get

motivated to cook a whole meal for just me. So I eat well for half a
month and like crap for the other half. I’m hoping it balances out.”

“How far away does your ex live?”
“Just a few miles away. We didn’t want to disrupt Morgan’s

life too much. But when he stays there, I don’t see him at all.
It’s…easier that way.”

“I don’t know how not seeing your kid can ever be easy, but

hey, Morgan seems like he’s doing all right, so that’s what’s
important, right?”

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In that moment, I wanted to spill my guts to this near-stranger

and tell him everything. I wanted to admit that his teacher’s words
still kept me up at night, and I was scared there were parts of my
own son I didn’t know anymore. And that would only get worse as
he got older. I wanted to tell him that this was Morgan’s first play
date in over a year, and he never talked about his friends because
he didn’t have them anymore. I realized that I haven’t spoken
about any of these things to anybody—because there wasn’t
anybody to speak to.

But Aaron wasn’t my friend. He was just the guy hanging out

in my kitchen while he waited for his son to put in some quality
gaming time.

“Yeah. That’s all that matters.”
“When does he go back?”
“Sunday night.”
“Well, if you guys don’t have plans for Saturday, would you

like to come over to our house?” The words came out in a rush,
like he had to get them out before he lost them. “The boys can
play, I can grill us something for dinner. Or if you just want to
drop Morgan off, that’s good, too. Just…well, I haven’t seen Sam
as happy as he’s been today in a very long time. I’d like to make it
last as long as I can.”

An entire evening in Aaron’s house? Surrounded by Aaron’s

life and his smell with no escape at all? Another evening full of
awkward silences while I tried to ignore the fact that Aaron was
the most gorgeous man I’d seen in a long time? The things I did for
my son.

“Sounds good. I’ll bring dessert. Any particular favorite?”
“Ice cream,” he said without pause.
“Well, I was going to make something, but I guess ice cream is

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good, too.”

“Oh.” A faint blush crept up his neck. “If you wanted to make

something you and Morgan like, that’s fine, too. Sam’s not really
that into sweet stuff, believe it or not.”

“What are you into?”
The color deepened. “Ice cream, actually. Sorry. I guess I was

being a little selfish there.”

I was enamored with the pink on his cheeks. Completely and

utterly taken. Even when we were talking, he seemed very distant,
his mind on Sam or his work. Not just distant. Aloof. And
somehow, some way, I’d made him blush a little. It was such a
minor victory that it probably didn’t even count, but I found myself
leaning forward a little.

“Listen. I have three pints of ice cream hidden in the back of

the fridge. Morgan doesn’t know anything about it. Want some?”

His eyes widened, the blue brightening at the same time. He

looked like I’d just offered him a million dollars rather than some
rocky road. He started to look over his shoulder at the refrigerator,
then froze, the momentary excitement in his face fading.

“We shouldn’t.”
“Why not? They won’t know. Besides, eating dessert before

dinner is one of the perks of being an adult.”

He wasn’t settling back into his chair, but he wasn’t looking at

the fridge, either, clearly caught in some uncertain limbo in
between doing what he thought was right and what he wanted.
“Are you sure they won’t come in here and catch us?”

“Positive. Morgan absolutely will not leave his computer. I’ve

got rocky road, chocolate fudge brownie, and extreme cookie
dough.” I stood, extremely aware of the fact that Aaron was
tracking me with his eyes. “We could really live it up and have a

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bit of each.”

He wanted it. I saw it in the way he leaned forward as I moved

away, and in the way the tip of his tongue touched his lower lip.
That tiny action almost made me forget what I was crossing the
kitchen to get, because the sudden image of his tongue doing the
same to my cock blocked out everything else.

“You pick,” he said. “They all sound good.”
As far as I was concerned, that meant he was really on board

with my sampler plan. I took down two bowls and measured out an
equal scoop of each kind. It was silly to feel like we were doing
something illicit. Ice cream in the afternoon wasn’t exactly a
sloppy blow job on the kitchen floor—though God, wouldn’t that
be just wonderful? More than wonderful. The best thing ever. But
it wasn’t going to happen, so I decided to comfort myself with a
little extra rocky road.

“It’s healthy to indulge yourself every once in awhile,” I

assured him as I set the bowls down.

This time, he did lick his lips. “When Sam was little, we had a

doctor who was convinced his problems stemmed from a dairy
allergy. We completely emptied the house, changed the way we
ate, everything.” The edge of his spoon sank into the chocolate,
emerging with a piece of brownie embedded in the ice cream.
“Two years, that lasted. Whenever Sam would have a relapse, he’d
blame us for somehow sneaking milk into his diet. Like we were
trying to sabotage his health or something.”

Slowly, he lifted the spoon to his mouth. I ducked my head to

stop from staring, but the temptation was too great. I watched
through my lashes as he swallowed the ice cream, his eyes
fluttering shut for a second when the taste hit his tongue. If he had
moaned in delight, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

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“I always felt guilty about eating ice cream after that.” His

mouth slanted. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was most definitely
something. “Which is a shame because it’s got to be the most
perfect food ever made.”

That explained why Sam didn’t go for the sweet stuff. He’d

never had the chance to develop a taste for it. That, and he
probably believed it would kill him still, even if they assured him
he didn’t have a dairy allergy.

“It is. We agreed that we wouldn’t let Morgan have too many

processed foods early on. It drove her crazy that I wouldn’t stop
eating it though. Then it got to the point that I didn’t even really
want it anymore, I just didn’t want her to win.”

The ice cream seemed to have unlocked something inside

Aaron. Though his bites remained small and precise, there was an
obvious appreciation with each one, a gusto that hadn’t been there
before. His body seemed looser, too, his shoulders less hunched,
his eyes a little more alive.

“Sometimes, you have to take victories where you can get

them,” he said. “How long has it been since your divorce?”

“Three years since it was final.” I shouldn’t have brought it up

at all, but the urge to just tell returned. I don’t know what it was
about Aaron that awakened that particular desire. I understood all
the other desires swirling around my brain, but this was just
bizarre. Even after acknowledging that, I couldn’t help but add,
“And that was probably two years too late.”

“Ouch. So you’ve been doing this shuttling back and forth all

that time?”

“Not quite. We didn’t have such a…fair agreement at first. For

the first year or so, I only saw him once a month.”

“Why? Was your lawyer that bad?”

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“The courts almost always decide custody in the mother’s

favor. And she…” I swallowed down a bite of ice cream to soothe
my dry throat. “She did her best to stack the deck against me.”

Aaron shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a divorced

guy who didn’t get screwed over somehow in the settlement.
Something’s seriously wrong with the system when fathers can’t
even see their own kids, because the moms are too busy using
them as pawns.”

“Yeah. When she realized it was hurting Morgan, too, she

relented.” My spoon scraped across the bottom of the bowl,
gathering up the melting chocolate. “Not that I didn’t inflict my
fair share of hurt. It wasn’t a shining time for either of us.”

I watched Aaron finish up the last of his ice cream, a preferable

distraction to the darker spiral of our conversation. He finished the
final bite with a lick across the back of the spoon, and when he set
it down, turned his gaze to me with a smile.

“Thanks for that,” he said. “You’ve officially turned this day

around for me now. Between seeing Sammy so happy and this…I
think getting knocked over the other day was almost worth it.”

“If ice cream can make that much of a difference in your day,

I’ll keep an extra pint around with your name on it.”

“Sometimes, it really doesn’t take much to make me happy.”

His gaze softened, growing contemplative. “I owe you an apology,
by the way.”

“For what?”
“For calling Morgan a brat the other day. I overreacted when

Sammy got hurt. I’m sorry.”

“Considering he got knocked down on his first trip to the park,

I think you reacted about as well as expected. But thank you, I
appreciate that.”

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“I know I’m overprotective. But he’s all I’ve got left.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” I itched to reach

out and touch the back of his hand, wanting the weight of physical
contact to emphasize my words. But I had the feeling Aaron was
not the sort of person to welcome random touching. “I
understand.”

“I’m not trying—I just—you gave me ice cream,” he finally

finished in a fluster. “I feel like I owe you.”

I felt a sharp twinge just below my breastbone, and realized I

was in serious danger. Developing a real crush on the father of my
son’s best friend was not a good plan, but what choice did I have?
What choice did he give me?

“Now that you’ve apologized, we’re even-Steven,” I assured

him, trying to keep my voice light. “I…uh…I’m going to check on
the boys. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll come with you.” His rising totally defeated the purpose of

my retreat, especially since his entire body stance seemed to have
relaxed now. “I want to see if Sammy actually touched any of that
snack. He starts playing sometimes, and he ends up in a different
world where people don’t need to eat, apparently.”

“Maybe that’s why they get along so well, because I swear

Morgan visits that world at least once a week.”

The kids were exactly where I left them, doing exactly what I

thought they’d be doing. Except the apples had disappeared and
the juice boxes were bent and twisted, sucked dry and abandoned
on the floor. I bit back the automatic reminder that garbage goes in
the bin, unwilling to disrupt the strange contentment settling over
the four of us.

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

CHAPTER 4

“But, Dad—”
“No buts. You want Morgan to come over tomorrow, you’re

picking this room up before he gets here so we don’t have to worry
about his father suing us because you lost him in all this junk.”

With my arms folded over my chest, I stood in Sam’s doorway,

barring his exit. The room wasn’t actually that bad, but he’d
ignored my directive to clean it after school. I’d been too busy on a
phone call with Alastair to come and check on him until it was
time to eat, at which point I’d found Sam sitting in the middle of a
pile of Magnetix, putting together some kind of spaceship. Nothing
else had been touched. I wasn’t pleased.

With a sulk that hinted at the teenaged years to come, he began

to straighten, starting with the books sitting in front of his shelves.

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I watched for several minutes, unmoving, mostly unblinking, doing
my best impression of a Stern Father that I could muster. I didn’t
usually argue too much about the disorder. I was meticulous
enough about dusting and washing everything that could be thrown
into the washing machine to counter some scattered toys. I didn’t
really think Morgan was going to care about a mess, either,
especially since I was fairly positive they would both be on the
Xbox all day.

It was Peter I wanted to impress. Don’t ask me why. I wasn’t

sure myself.

Part of me was a little embarrassed about how I’d acted at his

apartment. As soon as he’d mentioned ice cream, I’d turned into
some kid who was never allowed treats. But honestly, I’ve spent a
lot of my life denying myself what I wanted. In high school, I had
to watch what I ate and work out like a maniac to keep my place
on the varsity football team. In college, I could have rattled off half
a dozen missed opportunities for dates at any one time. Since
Ellie’s death, I’d put all my personal desires on the back burner to
focus on Sam. The thought of having ice cream—my favorite food
in the whole world—before dinner, without reason to celebrate or
anything like that made me, well…giddy.

Hence, the embarrassment.
I wanted to make up for it. I had this overwhelming urge to

prove to Peter I was a good father. Parenting obviously meant a
great deal to him, especially in light of his custody agreement, and
if our kids were going to spend a lot of time together—something
that seemed inevitable at this point—I wanted him to respect me.

Seeing him smile was just an added bonus. Albeit, a secret one.
The distant ring of the phone drifted from downstairs.
“I’ll be back in five minutes to make sure you’re still working,”

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I warned Sam.

He nodded without looking up at me. Guiltily, I jogged down

the hall and took the stairs two at a time to get to the phone in time.

“Hi, Aaron?” Peter’s voice was instantly recognizable, but he

still helpfully introduced himself. “It’s Peter, uh, Irving.”

I grinned, in spite of myself. Funny that he’d call when I’d just

been thinking of him. Not that I’d tell him that, of course.

“What’s up?”
“I feel really bad about this, but Morgan isn’t going to be able

to come over tomorrow.”

Stiffening, my eyes automatically went to the stairs and the

sounds of Sam still tidying up. “Why?” I fought to keep my voice
neutral. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Christina’s sister dropped into town

unexpectedly with her kids. They picked Morgan up this afternoon.
He hasn’t seen his cousins in a few months, so…”

No. No, no, no, this wasn’t happening. Sam was going to be

devastated. Saturday was all he’d talked about all week, and now
Morgan was going to be gone for two more weeks. My first
instinct was to ask Peter for his ex’s phone number, but just as my
mouth opened, I realized how awful that was going to sound. Peter
hated having to give his son back. And to have to forfeit even more
of that time?

This sucked for Peter even more than it did for Sam.
“I’m sorry.” I hope he could hear that I meant it. “Sam’s going

to be disappointed. We were looking forward to tomorrow.”

“I know. Trust me, he’s not the only one. I promised him we’d

reschedule, though.”

“Do you get some of this time back?”
“She’s going to bring him back two weeks from tonight, rather

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than Sunday.” Peter sighed softly. “So maybe we can reschedule
for that Saturday?”

“Sure, sure, that works.” I’d make it work. “What are you

going to do this weekend now?”

“I don’t know. Polish off the ice cream and fall asleep in front

of the television, I guess.”

“You mean, my ice cream? You weren’t going to keep that all

to yourself, were you?”

Peter’s chuckle was a welcome, albeit soft, sound. “I’ll think of

you while I’m eating it. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re still not sharing.”
“It’ll go bad if I leave it in the fridge for two weeks,” Peter

pointed out. “Also, ice cream never lasts that long around here.”

“From the way you’re talking, it won’t even last the weekend.”

My gaze fell upon the TV on the wall, and before I knew it, I was
saying, “Bring it over here anyway. Tonight. We can find
something to watch after Sam goes to bed.”

“I…it won’t be too much trouble?”
“Only if you don’t bring the ice cream.”
“I will definitely bring the ice cream. I need to do a few things

first. Is an hour good?”

“Yeah, that’ll be good. It’ll give me time to break it to Sam.” I

chuckled. “Though I might wait until he’s finished cleaning his
room before I say anything.”

“You’re a diabolical genius. I like that.”
I let him go. The second I hung up, I stared at the phone in my

hand. Had I really just invited him over? I didn’t do that. The only
people who came to the house were the cleaner who showed up
every other Thursday to dust and do the bathrooms, and the
occasional Jehovah’s Witness who made the mistake of picking

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my door to knock on. Any work acquaintances I had were met
elsewhere. As for friends…

Those had drifted away, one by one, after Ellie’s death. Some

people had tried to stay in contact, but it quickly became obvious
to everybody that she had been the heart of our appeal. I’d known
that all along. The only thing that surprised me was that they
hadn’t.

The look on Sam’s face when I told him about Morgan was

worse than I feared. His eyes welled with tears, and he sucked his
lips in past his teeth in his best brave face. “But he can still come
over when he gets back?” he asked when I was done.

“The very next day,” I promised. “In fact, Mr. Irving is coming

over tonight to talk to me about how we can set up some
permanent play dates for you two.” He just didn’t know it yet.

That helped brighten him up, at least enough to keep the tears

from falling. We went through our nightly rituals—both inhalers,
juice with his antihistamine, brushing his teeth, then topping it all
off with me tucking him into bed. We’d lost bedtime stories a year
ago. I knew it wouldn’t be long until I lost the tucking part, too. I
planned on holding onto it for as long as I possibly could.

The doorbell rang as I was saying good night from the door.
“Can you tell Mr. Irving I’m sorry about Morgan?” Sam asked.
I nodded. “But he knows how much you wanted to play with

him. Trust me.”

“Not that. I’m sorry he didn’t get the weekend. Morgan doesn’t

like it when it’s time to go, either.”

“You two talked about that?”
“A little. I asked him about his mom.”
“That’s personal, Sam.”
“But we’re friends. And he asked me about mine.” His face

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was cloaked in shadows, but I heard the small break in his voice. “I
told him his way was better.” The doorbell rang again. “You
should get that.”

“I’m going.” Though hearing Sam talk about Ellie made me

wish for a few minutes longer with him. “I love you, Sammy.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”
My thoughts were elsewhere when I went downstairs, but

somehow, I managed a smile when I opened the door. “That ice
cream better not be melted.”

“Nope, not melted. Did you know there’s a Cold Stone like,

two blocks from your house? I stopped there.” Peter rustled the
paper bag and looked around my shoulder. “Sammy already in
bed?”

“Yeah, just went down.” I was uncomfortable relaying his

message now. Wrapped in the image of Ellie, as well as the anger I
already knew Peter must be harboring for losing this time with his
son, it felt a little too personal. “So, wait. You bought more ice
cream rather than share your own?”

“Aaron, I know it’s been a long time for you, so you probably

don’t realize that I was feeding you crap and this is the good stuff.
Or at least, the better stuff full of actual chunks of real brownies.”

Taking the bag from him, I led the way through the front hall to

the kitchen at the back of the house. “Oh, I know it’s good. And
I’m grateful, honest.” I flashed him a smile. “But I’m starting to
wonder if you’ve got some personal boundary issues there with
your ice cream. You were going to eat it without me, you know.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you’ve been deprived so long, you’re

forming a fixation.”

“Hey, you were the one to corrupt me by convincing me to eat

it with the boys in the next room.” I set the bag on the granite

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countertop of the island and went to the cupboard for a couple
bowls. “I’m just saying, you can’t tempt me like that, and then take
it all away. I get a little cranky.”

“Now you’re sounding like I didn’t bring anything to share.”

Peter leaned against the counter, hip cocked, his eyes dancing.
“Say what you will about me, but I’m not an ice cream tease.”

He certainly sounded better than he had on the phone. I

grabbed spoons to go with the bowls and slid everything toward
Peter.

“You dish. I’m going to get the machine going for a coffee

when we’re done.” I held up a warning finger. “And no skimping
on my portion.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m afraid you’d snatch the bowl right

out of my hands if I tried.”

I snorted at his assessment and set to making the coffee. The

picture of him still leaning against the counter remained branded
on my inner eye, however, distracting me as I filled the pot. He
seemed…different tonight. More relaxed, if that was even possible.
The dour mood I’d expected with Morgan’s absence wasn’t as
prevalent as I thought it would be, which meant this night just
might turn out to be more fun than I could have hoped for.

He had everything ready when I left the coffee to brew. My

mouth watered at the sight of the creamy confection, and I might
have picked mine up a little too quickly if Peter’s low chuckle was
anything to gauge by. “TV’s through here,” I said, with a jerk of
my head. I led him out of the kitchen and into the family room,
scanning around for where Sam might have left the remote this
time.

“I was pretty surprised when you invited me over,” Peter

admitted as he settled on the couch.

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Spotting the remote sticking out from underneath the ottoman, I

left my ice cream on the end table at the opposite end of the couch
before bending down to pick it up. I shook my head when I saw the
three Bionicles crammed beneath it, too.

“You didn’t want to be stuck at home with the reminder

Morgan wasn’t there.” I tossed the toys onto the ottoman for
Sammy to put away tomorrow. “I thought it was the least I could
do.”

“You’re right, I didn’t want to be stuck alone all night. I just…I

guess I didn’t realize you’d care about that.”

“Because I’m that big of an asshole?” I joked, returning to my

seat.

“No, you’re not that big of an asshole,” Peter answered with a

straight face, though I could sense the smile tugging at his lips. “I
know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t know if we were friends, too, or
if it was just the boys.”

“Well, it’s not stupid, because I didn’t know, either. I just knew

that if you were going to park yourself in front of a TV tonight,
there was no reason for you to do it alone when I’ve got a perfectly
good TV here.” Speaking of, I flipped it on, switching over to the
cable guide to see what might be playing. “Besides, how are we
ever going to find if we can be friends if we’ve always got the kids
around?”

“Admit it, you just want me for my sweet treats.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I said without missing a beat.
Peter sighed dramatically. “I haven’t felt this used by a guy

since college.”

“Were you one of the brainiacs the jocks were always cribbing

from?”

Peter snorted. “No, I…actually, yes. Everybody cheated off me

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in geometry.”

“Oh, hell, if you were smart enough to do well in geometry,

you deserved to be cheated off of.” Nothing on the guide was
catching my eye. “Help me out here. What’re you in the mood
for?”

“I don’t know. What about the Food Network? Iron Chef

America is basically on all night every night.”

“Is it?” I scrolled down. “Huh. You’re right. Okay, Iron Chef

America, it is.”

I couldn’t have told him what was on, to be honest. Some

weekend sports, the occasional kids show that caught Sam’s eye, a
movie here and there…that was the extent of my TV watching. It
got used more for Sam’s Xbox than anything else, often because
when I finally got some free time, sitting in the family room all by
myself was too depressing. The room was too big, and too empty
on its own.

Odd how I hadn’t had a single thought of being uncomfortable

since walking in with Peter, though. Even with him sitting on the
far end of the couch, I felt more relaxed and comfortable than I had
in a long time.

My ice cream was starting to melt around the edges, so I

scooped up the milky bits and licked them off my spoon. I
managed to control the urge to moan at how good it was, though
barely, and glanced up to see Peter watching me instead of the TV.

“Yes, I’m aware I look like a big douche when I’m enjoying

something,” I said. “It’s all your fault for bringing the good stuff.”

“Douche wasn’t exactly the word I had in mind. I’m just happy

to see you enjoying it so much.”

He did, too. This little half smile kept playing on his lips, and

though I watched him take a bite or two, it never went away. I

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watched a little bit longer after that, too. I blamed the way the ice
cream glistened at the corners of his mouth.

The thing of it was, noticing it at all left me a little bemused.

My sex drive had been shuttled to the side for so long, I wasn’t
even sure how I could recognize it now. My energies were poured
into work and Sammy. I simply didn’t perceive people as anything
but functions of either of those. But Peter was different, and I still
didn’t know why. Noticing his mouth now was akin to realizing I’d
recognized him in the park—natural, almost unconscious. I
shouldn’t have paid attention in the slightest to the way he took the
ice cream off the spoon, or the way his long, graceful fingers held
the utensil in the first place.

I dropped my eyes to my own bowl as soon as I realized I was

now staring at the man’s hands. Jesus. I really had to get a grip on
myself.

“Sam wanted me to tell you he’s sorry about Morgan.” There.

Talking about our kids should be a good buzzkill. “Apparently, the
boys have been talking about us.”

Peter licked his lips again and set the bowl aside. “I’m glad to

hear Morgan is talking to somebody. Tell Sam I appreciate his
concern, but…well, I’m not really used to it. I don’t think that
would ever happen. But I am fine.”

“I should probably warn you. Sam gets very attached to the

adults in his life.”

“He’s pretty adorable, so I don’t think I mind. What about you?

Do you form attachments?”

“Generally? No.” I waggled my spoon at him. “Unless they

feed me ice cream.” When he grinned, I realized I’d slipped back
into appreciating him again. What the hell was wrong with me
tonight?

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“How does that affect your private life? Sam forming

attachments, I mean. Do you just wait to introduce him? Or do you
not date at all?”

“I don’t date. It’s easier that way. For both of us.”
“Do you ever…get lonely? I don’t date much either, but

sometimes I just need some adult time, you know?”

His innocent queries probed into an area of my life I always

fought to keep private. People I worked with knew better than to
ask, and I rarely volunteered more information than was necessary.
Hell, I hadn’t even talked about Ellie with him yet, though
considering his own less than amicable divorce, he probably
reasoned it was better not to, and I was the clod for having asked
him questions about it in the first place.

If we were going to be friends, I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to

let him in a little. Perhaps I could even live vicariously through his
experiences. That would certainly ensure Sam and I could go on as
we had been.

“That’s what the Internet is for,” I said with a smile. “If I’d had

the same access to porn when I was a teenager, I don’t think I
would’ve ever left my room.”

“The Internet is very helpful. But I don’t just mean sex, though

yeah, that’s a big part of it.” Peter sighed. “I don’t know.
Sometimes I feel like I miss Christina, and I know what I really
miss is the…companionship.”

“So why don’t you date more often? Aren’t women always

complaining there aren’t any decent single guys out there? Go
prove ’em wrong.”

“I’d date more often, but most of the guys I meet get a

bit…jumpy when I mention I have Morgan part-time. And when I
don’t call them back for two weeks because I’m busy, they tend to

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think I’m not interested. Or they lose interest. Or something.”

Every aspect of his story could have come from any other

single father’s mouth. Except for one.

I forgot about the ice cream melting in my hands. I was staring

again, but for different reasons this time, far more dangerous than
before. Guys. He’d said…guys. As in…he was gay. As in…me
thinking about his hands and that smile wasn’t quite as one-sided
as it might have seemed to be a few minutes ago. Did he think this
was a date?

Was it a date?
No. No, I’d invited him over because it was a shit thing to

expect to spend time with your kid and then have it ripped away
from you, and because Peter was a nice guy and deserved better
than that, even if his ex did have a valid reason for taking their son
early. I just wanted him to realize he didn’t have to be alone,
because sitting in your quiet house with nobody to talk to was one
of the most depressing things in the world. I knew that from
experience, even if I didn’t always acknowledge it.

“You’re gay.” The words just came out, like my brain was still

trying to reconcile my weird attraction with the fact that it might
not be as misplaced as it could have been.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“No! No, just…” I floundered. “A surprise.” I tried to joke it

off. “I guess I’m not as good at noticing as I used to be.”

“To be fair, I don’t think I’ve done anything that’d tip you off.

You sure everything’s okay? You seem a bit…staggered.”

I was, and I felt like an idiot for overreacting like this, but it’d

been a long time since I’d been around a guy who’d made me think
about him twice, and to find out he wasn’t a safe fantasy because
he happened to like men, too? Left me a little nonplussed.

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Of course, maybe I wasn’t his type. It was entirely possible he

wasn’t in the least bit attracted to me, and I was making a
mountain out of a molehill. God knew I would never have pegged
him for my type.

“Does Morgan know?” I asked. First things first, I needed to

know how much of his privacy I had to respect.

“Yes. Christina didn’t like it one bit, but I wanted to be as

honest as possible about the divorce. He was young enough when I
told him that he accepted a simplified explanation, but sometimes
he pops up with questions uncomfortable enough to make me wish
I’d never said anything.”

“Like what?”
“Oh, about what you’d expect. One time we saw a couple

kissing in the park, and he asked if I kissed other boys, which
wasn’t so bad. He asked if I was going to marry a man, and if I do,
would he call that person mom or dad. I told him I wasn’t even
dating anybody, so worrying about marriage was a bit premature.
That sort of thing.”

Innocent questions, then, but enough for me to realize I needed

to talk to Sam about it now. The subject was bound to come up
between the boys. Sam would have questions for me, just like he
always did. How on earth was I going to answer him if he asked
about whether or not I’d ever kissed a boy?

“It’s probably just a matter of time.” When I noticed his slight

frown, I added, “Before you find someone who understands about
Morgan.”

“It’d be nice. Though I doubt it’ll happen any time soon. What

are the chances of finding a great guy who I’m attracted to, who’s
attracted to me, and who really doesn’t mind all the complications
of having a kid in the mix?”

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“You need someone who’s got kids of his own. That’s who’d

understand.”

“An attractive gay man, preferably around my age, who finds

me attractive and has kids? Sure, those types of guys are swarming
all over the place. I have to beat them off with a stick.”

Considering my reaction to him, I found it hard to believe he

couldn’t find another dad somewhere who’d react the same way.
“Well, there’s your problem. You’re not supposed to beat them off
until you’ve already got them naked.”

Peter snorted. “Well, it’s been a long time.”
“Clearly.” Now that my initial shock had worn off, my

thoughts zeroed in on Peter’s predicament. He was a good guy. He
knew what he wanted. It seemed a crime for him not to get it. “You
should use this weekend to go out,” I heard myself saying. “Don’t
sit around the house.”

“Trust me, Aaron, if it were that easy, I’d be doing it.”
“No, seriously.” I set aside my bowl and angled toward Peter.

“Let’s get you fixed up. What’s your type?” I could still live
vicariously through him, just not in the way I’d originally
expected.

Peter tilted his head, looking more curious than annoyed. “Why

are you so concerned about the state of my nonexistent love life?”

“Because it’s not right. Someone who looks like you shouldn’t

be alone if he doesn’t want to be.”

“Somebody who looks like me,” Peter repeated slowly.

“You’ve noticed how I look?”

Too late, I realized what I’d said and exactly how much I’d

revealed. Heat crept up my neck. My whole face was going to pink
in about two seconds. Instincts yelled at me to deny, deny, deny,
but Peter had been honest with me without batting an eyelash.

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What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t give him the same
courtesy?

“Well, yeah, I have eyes, you know. And you have…” I

gestured at his hands and his face, then realized how stupid that
looked. “You,” I finished awkwardly.

Peter’s lips twitched. “It’s kind of you to say so. But anyway,

like I said, it’s not just the sex I miss, and what I’m looking for is
pretty hard to find at a bar or club.”

“So don’t look at a bar or a club. We live in the most gay-

friendly part of the country. There has got to be some sort of group
for single dads looking to date other single dads.”

“Will it make you happy if I promise to search online for one

this weekend?”

My eyes narrowed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re just

humoring me now?”

“Because you’re a smart guy.” Peter grinned. “I should have

tried harder. I forgot I’m not dealing with an eight year old.”

I ignored the way my groin tightened at the prettiness of his

smile. He was going to be obstinate about this. I needed to break
out some more honesty. “Look, I just can’t believe it’s that hard for
you to find someone in similar circumstances. You found me,
didn’t you?”

“Technically, Morgan found Sammy, I think. Besides, it’s not

the same at all, considering you fail to meet one or two of the
important criteria.”

“Because I’m not gay?”
“That tends to be a pretty big obstacle in potential gay

relationships. I mean, I could have Morgan crash into random kids
all day and I’ll probably just end up with a string of angry mothers
and straight fathers.”

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“Except I’m not straight, either.”
Peter blinked at me. “Wait. What?”
I really had blurted that out. But I was just so frustrated with

Peter dismissing my claims just because he thought I wouldn’t
understand, it couldn’t be helped.

“You heard me. So, see? The possibility isn’t as out there as

you think it is.”

“Except…” Peter sighed. “Okay, okay, you win. I concede the

point.”

I frowned. That wasn’t the reaction I wanted. It didn’t feel like

a win at all. Peter looked like I’d just stolen his puppy. “Except
what?”

“Except… I’m already kind of interested in somebody so…

going out would just be a big waste of time. That’s all.”

“Oh.”
That made sense, I guess. His evasiveness in pursuing

possibilities, his reluctance in going out. He harbored feelings for
someone and held out hope for that relationship. I thought about
asking, but it really wasn’t any of my business. He’d volunteered
so much already, and he obviously wasn’t going to make it easy
for me to help. Besides, steamrolling a new friend was the best
way to lose him, and at this point, I’d decided Peter wasn’t going
anywhere from my life.

So what if I thought he was attractive? It could just mean I was

finally starting to get to a point where I could think about
relationships again. Sam’s health was improving, it had been four
years since Ellie’s death…my attraction to him was simply proof it
was time for me to start moving on.

“Well, I hope for your sake things work out.” I smiled and

picked up my bowl again. The ice cream had completely melted,

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leaving behind chunks of soggy brownie like tiny islands. “And if
there’s anything I can do, like have Morgan over while you go out,
just let me know.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. I may even hold you to it.”

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CHAPTER 5

I’d had my share of awkward dates over the years, but I’d

never passed an evening as wretched, or as pleasant, as Friday
night at Aaron’s. It was wonderful to be around him. I genuinely
enjoyed his company, his smile, his joy at the ice cream, his home,
and did I mention his smile? But perhaps I’d gone there with my
hopes too high. Well, let’s be honest. I shouldn’t have stepped into
that house with any hopes at all. Even if I had thought that maybe
he asked me over because he might possibly be interested on some
level. Aaron was a gorgeous, generous, kindhearted man and a
devoted father who couldn’t be less interested in me. At least when
I thought he was straight, I could ignore my disappointment and
quietly shuttle the unrequited feelings to the back of my mind.

At first, I’d thought Aaron’s interest in my private life was

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really a hint at his own interest in being a part of my private life.
But the longer he talked, the more I realized that he was just being
curious and friendly, and that neither one of those things was a
mask for a deeper desire. I was already getting that message loud
and clear when he intoned that he didn’t date, but in case I was
confused by his lack of flirting and his flat announcement, he
followed that up with great suggestions to land any man that
wasn’t him. On the bright side, he did imply that I was attractive.
Perhaps not attractive to him, but I took some measure of comfort
from the fact that he’d noticed me at all.

There were many reasons why Christina and I should have

never married, but the breaking point was my realization that I
simply didn’t want to have sex with her. She deserved better than
my grudging attention, and I longed to be with somebody I really
wanted. In the final six months before we officially put the
relationship out of its misery, I barely touched her at all. I’d stay
up for hours after she went to sleep, downloading porn and
clicking through naked photos like I was comparison shopping.
Once I was finally free, I made up for lost time. It was easy to get
laid. Some nights I wouldn’t even bother with the clubs. There
were plenty of websites to find an anonymous hook-up. Usually I
had a few good options within an hour of posting, and I was
usually naked thirty minutes after that.

I stopped that completely after I was granted partial custody of

Morgan. There was too much of a risk involved, and honestly, I
didn’t really miss the easy sex that much. Instead of a new guy
every night, I had a few regular friends with benefits. We met
every few months or so when I didn’t have Morgan, usually at
their place, and had really great, no-strings-attached sex. But the
thing of it was, I missed the strings. I missed little things like

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holding hands, knowing each other’s favorite breakfast, going out
on actual dates, having somebody to talk to about things that
mattered. I’d never mention Morgan’s problems at school to one of
my fuck buddies.

Judging by how enthusiastic Aaron had been about living

vicariously through me, he desperately needed to get laid. If I
didn’t care what he thought of me, I would have at least offered to
suck him off. But I didn’t want things to be awkward between us,
and I certainly didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable around
me. I had no doubt we’d both be mature enough to keep our
feelings from negatively impacting the boys’ friendship, but I
already had a relationship like that, where every tiny misstep could
somehow cause an avalanche of pain for everybody. I didn’t want
to think of Aaron the way I thought of Christina.

I should have been over my disappointment by the next

morning. I’d hoped that a good night’s sleep would give me a fresh
perspective in the morning, but I woke up from eight hours of
dreaming about Aaron, and the ache in my chest was even worse.
More persistent, like acid reflux. Ultimately I gave in to the
temptation to call him just because I wanted to hear the sound of
his voice. That was how bad I had it for him already. Which meant
calling him at all was a very bad idea that I would most certainly
come to regret. I knew better than to do anything to encourage my
fixation, and calling Aaron when I didn’t even have Morgan with
me was completely unjustifiable. Not to mention presumptuous.

But I did it anyway.
At least I could say I did it without any expectations. I didn’t

harbor any delusional beliefs. I still felt a light fluttering in my
chest when he answered the phone. I was more than a little
flustered at the sound of his voice, and that was the moment I

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should have hung up, or laughed and said, “Oops, I must have
misdialed. Sorry about that.” Instead I asked him if he had any
plans that night.

“Just the usual,” he said. “Me, Sammy, and whatever’s on TV.

Why?”

It was probably too late to get a babysitter, so whatever I

suggested had to be appropriate for Sammy, too. That was good,
though. I’d have to keep my feelings in check in front of the boy
and I would need any external checks I could get.

“I’m going to the aquarium.” The aquarium? Yeah, I don’t

know where that came from, either. I enjoy aquariums and I
always have, but no part of me believed Aaron had any desire to
visit one. “But nobody likes watching fish by themselves. So I was
wondering if you’d like to join me.”

The fact that he didn’t automatically tell me what a lame idea it

was let loose the hopeful cheerleader inside me. At least until the
bitchy queen commented from the sidelines, “He’s trying to figure
out how to let you down easy, dumbass.” I held my breath and
waited for his response.

“What time are you going?”
“My schedule’s pretty much wide open for the day. So any

time. Right now.” So he could bring Sammy. “Later tonight.” So
he couldn’t bring Sammy. “I’m flexible.”

“Well, Sammy’s got a nine o’clock bedtime, so as long as

we’re back before that…sure, I’d love to go. Hanging out will be
fun.”

Yes, wonderful fun. It would be a good test for myself, too. By

the time Morgan came back, I needed to have this silly crush under
control. “Great. I can be over there in thirty. If we head to the city
now, we’ll have time to get dinner tonight, too.”

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“No ice cream tonight, though. I’ve already got to do double

workouts next week at the gym to take care of last night.”

Of course Aaron did things like double workouts in response to

the occasional bowl of ice cream. One didn’t get a body like
Aaron’s without making some serious sacrifices. Not that I knew
as much of Aaron’s body as I would have liked, but I’d seen
enough to form a breathtaking fantasy around the thought of him
lifting weights.

“Okay, no ice cream. Though if you do give in to temptation

anyway, I won’t tell anybody.”

“It’s good to know you have my back,” he said with a laugh. “I

better go round up Sam. I’ll see you in thirty.”

There’s always a second before the phone completely

disconnects the call, and for the length of that beat, I felt a twinge
of regret that I couldn’t have Aaron all to myself. I squashed it
down immediately. The one thing I could not indulge myself in
was fantasies about having Aaron to myself. It’d be foolish for one
thing, and disrespectful of Aaron and Sammy both. That smaller
regret was replaced by something much, much heavier. It weighed
on my heart with such force that I almost cancelled the trip.
Morgan would love to go to the aquarium with Aaron and Sam.
He’d be crushed when he found out what happened, and he would
because we couldn’t very well tell Sammy to keep it a secret. I
would have to do something to make it up to him, especially since
the only reason this was happening was my rather prurient interest
in Aaron.

I reached Aaron’s house with about two minutes to spare,

feeling strangely nervous. Definitely more nervous than I had the
night before, though what I had to be nervous about, I couldn’t say.
I had a good idea of where I stood and what Aaron wanted from

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me. I just had to make sure I didn’t stray from my place or give
Aaron reason to think I was looking for anything besides the
friendship he was willing to give me.

The door flew open, and Sammy came barreling down the front

walk. Aaron was slower to emerge, and he paused on the threshold
to lock the door behind him. The act gave me several seconds to
enjoy the view, like the way his faded jeans hugged his butt. Then,
Sammy screeched to a halt in front of me, dragging my focus
away.

“I’m going to take pictures.” He held up a small digital camera.

“Dad says next time we go, he’ll take the pictures so I can get one
of me and Morgan.”

“That’s a great idea. Here, let me take one of you now and I’ll

email it to Morgan tonight.” He happily relinquished the camera to
my care and beamed. “Say, ‘Hi, Morgan.’”

“Hi, Morgan.”
I snapped the picture and returned the camera, my heart beating

a little faster. It wasn’t amazing that Aaron had already promised
Sammy that we’d be returning to the aquarium with Morgan—Sam
had probably extracted the promise himself. But it did mean
something. I wanted it to mean something.

Sunglasses hid Aaron’s eyes as he approached, but the small

smile said enough. “He’s a little excited.” He tracked the way Sam
bounded to the car and let himself into the backseat. “I thought the
camera would keep him more focused.”

“How is he today? Should we stick indoors as much as

possible? I was thinking if we went to Aquarium on the Bay, we
could walk around the pier a bit, too.”

“Why don’t we see how it goes? Sam’s never been before, and

he seems to be okay, but sometimes, he pushes himself too hard

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before I can rein him back in. But hey, if we end up having to call
it an early day, there’s no reason you can’t hang out here as long as
you want when we get home.”

Because I know how sad and lonely your life must be. That

wasn’t what Aaron meant, but he did seem to think I lead a pretty
sad and lonely life.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than entertain me all

night.”

The smile widened. “And who said you wouldn’t be the one

entertaining me?”

“If by ‘entertaining,’ you mean distracting you from work or

necessary chores, then yes, I’ll definitely be doing that.”

“Some people think I work too much as it is.” He sidestepped

me to get to the passenger door. “It’s up to you. But honestly, I’d
like the company if you did stick around. The house didn’t seem so
empty last night when you were there.”

I smiled at that, pleased and completely incapable of hiding

that fact. I couldn’t take my attention from Aaron as I walked
around the back of the car, and my smile grew as I realized Aaron
and Sam were both the same shade of blond. I half-expected Aaron
to be fussy with the radio and the A/C, but he kept his hands to
himself. The thing of it was, I wouldn’t have minded if he had
fidgeted with everything.

“So, Sammy, have you ever been to the Aquarium?” I asked,

once I was buckled in.

“Nope.” He popped his p in his excitement. “A boy in my class

did. He said he got to pet a shark and everything.” His head
swiveled to Aaron. “Can I pet a shark if I’m real careful, Dad?”

“I don’t think he really did that, Sam.”
“But he said he did.”

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“Well, why don’t we wait and see what they offer? They

probably have shows and exhibits. We’ll pick up a schedule when
we get there.”

I met Sam’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’ve petted a shark a

few times. Not at the Aquarium, though.”

His eyes widened in delight. For a split second, I felt like I

could walk on water. “Whoa! How cool is that? Was it alive? Were
you in the water? Did it try and bite you?”

“Yes, the sharks were alive and I was in the water. You watch

Shark Week on the Discovery Channel, right? You ever see those
big cages under the water? I had a couple of chances to go into one
of those. They didn’t really try to bite, but they were quite curious.
They mouthed the cage, trying to figure out if it was food.”

Sammy kept up his excitement from the back, chattering about

how much cooler that was than what the kid at school had
apparently done, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught Aaron’s
head tilted toward me. I still couldn’t see behind the damn glasses,
but his mouth was twisted in a bemused sort of smile, a smile that
only deepened when he realized I’d seen him.

“You are constantly surprising me,” he said.
“I was studying to be a marine biologist at the time, and I

wanted to work with sharks. It was a huge honor to have the
chance to go on the expedition at all, much less go down in the
cage. But that’s pretty much the only cool thing I’ve ever done.”

“You’ve still got me beat. By a mile. How the hell did you get

from swimming with sharks to working in a lab?”

“When I realized I wasn’t going to be a vet, I switched over to

marine biology. When I realized that it wasn’t exactly practical to
drag my wife and newborn child to some soggy island so I could
spend years studying sharks, I found what gainful employment I

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

could with my degree.”

“And Morgan’s the reason you haven’t tried pursuing it again.”
“Yeah. I could have…right after Christina left. She even

suggested that I pick up where I left off.” I shrugged. “But that
wasn’t really an option.” Aaron probably didn’t believe it was
possible to be happy with my rather unglamorous and at times
disgusting job, but I was.

“Of course, it wasn’t. He’s your only son. But it still takes b—”

He cut himself short, glancing at Sam in the rear of the car. “Guts,”
he said instead, “to put your dreams on hold like that.”

“I didn’t put them on hold. That implies it’s temporary.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, well, you can

never tell what’s going to happen, can you? And you’re young.
Morgan will be off to college sooner than you know it. There’s no
telling what’ll happen then.”

Aaron was technically correct about that. I couldn’t see into the

future and I didn’t know what was going to happen to me after
Morgan grew up. But the chances were pretty damned good that I
was never going to be a marine biologist or swim with the sharks
again.

Sammy got bored in the backseat and started clamoring for our

attention, asking about a million questions about sharks and whales
and the really creepy fish at the bottom of the sea. I answered them
the best I could, Aaron listening silently while I dredged up
information I hadn’t thought about in eight years. By the time we
found a place to park at Fisherman’s Wharf, my throat was dry
from overuse.

“I’ve got this,” he said, pulling out his wallet as we approached

the ticket kiosk. When I opened my mouth to protest, he shook his
head in warning. “Don’t even think about it. You drove.”

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

“I want to do the tour!” Sammy exclaimed, pointing up at the

price board.

“Looks good to me.” And before I could stop him… “Two

adults, one child, with the behind the scenes tour.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him he didn’t have to do

that, but Sammy was already running ahead of us, and it wouldn’t
make a difference anyway. It didn’t matter, I would just have to
owe him. Maybe I could pick up the tab on dinner if I stuck around
that night—and I definitely wanted to. Even though I had
absolutely no reason to do that, except for the pleasure of Aaron’s
company. I wondered how long it would take before Aaron clued
in that my interest was not strictly platonic.

“I’m probably going to act like a big geek while we’re here,” I

warned.

He pulled his sunglasses off—finally!—and hooked them on

the front of his shirt with a grin. “And that’ll be different how?” He
softened the teasing gibe with a backhanded slap against my
stomach, jerking his head toward Sammy. “Come on. He’s going
to be done with the whole thing before we even get inside.”

I lied. I wasn’t going to act like a big geek because I barely

cared we were there. I dropped back a few feet so I could study
Aaron unnoticed. The longer I looked at him, the more handsome
he became. I just hoped he didn’t get it in his head to ask a lot of
questions because there was something about the way his pants
hugged the back of his thighs that enraptured me.

We passed through a darkish room with several lighted

displays, explaining the various fish we could expect to see
through the first corridor. Sam didn’t pause to give the brightly
colored pictures a second glance. He wanted to see the real thing.
Aaron watched him run from side to side, his eyes wide with

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wonder as he took in the various creatures.

Normally, I would have been just as excited, but Aaron looked

so…at ease. Much more relaxed than at the park.

“I want to thank you for thinking of this.” Aaron’s voice was

low, meant only for my ears, but his gaze still followed Sam
around, ever vigilant in his watch. “You have no idea what it
means to me to see Sam this happy.”

“At this point, I think I have a pretty good idea.” And I loved

seeing Aaron happy. Was it wrong to find new ways to brighten
Sam’s world just to make Aaron smile? Everybody would win in
that situation. “I think it’s probably the one thing I really know
about you.”

He cast me a curious glance. “That’s not true. You know a lot

about me.”

“Hmm, I know you like ice cream.”
“And I’m a workaholic.”
“So that’s three things. I don’t know if that counts as a lot.”
“Trust me. I’m not that deep.”
“I don’t believe you. And now that I think about it, I’d say on

balance you know far more about me than I know about you. You
have me at a disadvantage.”

Though he shifted his gaze back to his son, his mouth kept

twitching into a smile. “That’s not my fault. You talk too much.”

“You’re the one who lets me go on and on. If you insist on

being a captive audience, I’m going to talk.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I like the sound of your voice.”
I blinked, suddenly feeling like I was on uneven ground. If I

knew he was straight, I wouldn’t have thought anything of that
comment. I didn’t want to give in to the temptation to read
meaning into every word, but it felt like there could be something

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there.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“You could always ask, you know.” When Sam started to move

onto the next display, Aaron followed, leaving me to quicken my
step to remain at his side. “If there was something you were
curious about. I don’t bite.”

Nothing I wanted to ask was appropriate for a public venue.

What happened to Sammy’s mother, for starters. I knew Aaron
wasn’t divorced, and I couldn’t imagine any woman would leave
Aaron and Sammy behind. My guess was widower, and if that was
correct, I didn’t think I should bring the subject up at all. The
second question pressing on my mind was just as personal, and
probably nothing Aaron wanted to talk about in public. He
probably wasn’t prepared to explain the word bisexual to Sam just
yet, and if I knew anything about young children, it was that they
always picked up on the words you didn’t want them to notice.

“Now that you’ve said that, my mind’s gone blank.”
Aaron laughed. He actually laughed. I think it was the very first

time I’d ever heard him do so, though there might have been a
stray chuckle once or twice before he caught himself. When I
looked at him, his entire face was lit up, brighter and more alive
than I’d yet to witness. It turned him into a different person, an
even more dangerously appealing one than before.

“Somehow, I find that very hard to believe,” he said. “But just

in case it’s true, I’ll make it a standing offer.” We came to a halt
behind Sammy where he stood in front of a huge plate glass wall,
watching the fish swim around on the other side. Our shoulders
brushed against each other, though I was pretty sure Aaron was
completely unaware of the contact. “I’m your captive audience all
night, after all. I’m sure your mind will come up with something at

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some point.”

Aaron had no idea what my mind could come up with. If he

knew, would it send him running and screaming in the other
direction? Would he be right to flee? I was ridiculously confused
and pleased at once, which was all his fault for paying, and for
laughing, and for saying he liked the sound of my voice. If this
were a date, I’d be feeling pretty good about the whole situation.
But it wasn’t, and if I ever needed a solid reminder of that, it was
when Sam excitedly pointed to the water over his head and said,
“Look, it’s a shark! Why isn’t he eating all the other fish?”

“Because he only eats when he’s hungry.”
“That must be how he stays in such good shape,” Aaron

deadpanned.

Sammy rolled his eyes. “Da-ad.”
“What? Look at him. He’s a lean, mean, swimming machine.”
I smiled and shifted just a little bit closer, so the touch of our

shoulders wasn’t quite so accidental. “He is. Sharks have been
basically the same since the time of dinosaurs because there’s been
no evolutionary pressure.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.
“It means he’s already perfect. Beautiful, even.”
Sammy wrinkled his nose. “Sharks can’t be beautiful.”
“Why not?” Aaron said.
“Because they’re scary-looking.”
“To you, maybe. To the other sharks? Not necessarily.” Aaron

squinted at a smaller shark swimming near the edge. “Well, maybe
to that one.”

Sam laughed. So did I. It sounded a just a little shaky to my

ears and I wasn’t watching the sharks. The only light came in
through the glass, giving it a strange, ethereal quality. It

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shimmered over Aaron’s face and hair, shadows from the water
dancing over his skin. Sam hurried to the other end of the corridor,
tilting his head all the way back to look at the shark Aaron had
pointed out, and I knew we should follow him, I knew I should
move. Especially before Aaron caught me staring at him like he
was one of the exhibits.

Sam had the camera to his face when we reached him, snapping

picture and picture of the various fish. As Aaron came to a stop at
his shoulder, he lowered it and gestured toward the wall.

“I want one of you, Dad.”
“Where?” Aaron wandered forward to place himself

strategically next to one of the placards. “Here?”

“Scooch over a little. No, a little more.” He started to lift the

camera again, only to hesitate and turn to me. “Can you be in the
picture, too, Mr. Irving? I want to remember today exactly like it
happened.”

“Sure.”
I went and stood by Aaron’s side, this time ensuring there were

at least a few inches between us. It felt too much like leaving
incriminating evidence to actually touch him. But Sam shook his
head and gestured with his hand.

“You should be closer.”
“We’re already pretty close,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but you’re friends. So stand closer.”
Aaron’s attention had moved from his son to me, steady as he

watched the interaction between us. When I edged over, still wary
of contact, he arched a brow and looked back to Sam.

“He must think I’m a shark.” Suddenly, Aaron hooked his arm

around my shoulders and hauled me the rest of the way against his
broad, hard body. “I got him, Sam! Take the picture!”

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Sam laughed, while I initially struggled. “Got it! That was

funny, Dad.”

“Quite,” I agreed, my heart pounding in my ears, my head

swirling from the contact. Aaron didn’t release me right away, and
all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and smell his
skin through the thin material of his shirt. Fortunately, his arms
loosened before I had the opportunity to do anything truly
embarrassing. But even when he wasn’t touching me, my heart
wouldn’t settle back to its normal rhythm. “Come on. We’ve still
got a lot more to see.”

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CHAPTER 6

I blamed that damn camera.
Because if I hadn’t walked out of the house in time to see Peter

take it away from Sammy, I wouldn’t have watched his hands
cradle it carefully as he took Sammy’s picture. And I wouldn’t
have been extra aware of his hands on the steering wheel as he
pulled away from the curb, and thus even more attuned to what he
was talking to Sammy about because the last thing I needed was
for him to notice me staring. I wouldn’t have been all caught up in
the imagery of Peter and his elegant hands in an underwater cage
as he touched a circling shark. And I definitely wouldn’t have
fallen headfirst into flirting mode once we were at the Aquarium,
just because he had my head spinning with Sammy smiling and
him laughing at my stupid jokes and always, always, gesturing as

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we chatted during the behind the scenes tour.

It all started with a simple picture. So yeah, totally the camera’s

fault.

I tried to rein it back in while we were at dinner. I’d thought

Sam would pick Bubba Gump’s, but I guess after seeing them
swimming around alive all day, the last thing he wanted was to be
responsible for eating some of their friends. We ended up at an
Olive Garden instead, where I went into full-on dad mode, making
sure he was on his best manners, haggling over his options on the
menu. It helped that Sam was full of questions for Peter, so once
the food arrived, I could just sit back and listen to the two of them
go at it.

Having time and freedom to watch Peter didn’t actually help.

His animation as he talked about a subject that clearly meant the
world to him made his eyes sparkle, and sometimes, when he’d
lean closer to Sam, I’d catch a dimple dancing in his cheek. He
was remarkably patient with all of Sam’s questions, too, never
losing his temper when Sam would end up repeating himself or
getting pedantic about one of Peter’s answers.

Morgan was really missing out. I wondered if Peter’s ex was

aware of just how fantastic a father Morgan actually had.

The ride back to our house was surprisingly quiet. I was trying

my best to remember why it was such a bad idea to acknowledge
this unexpected attraction, which was a lot easier if I stared out my
window rather than at the man in the question. I don’t know what
Peter was thinking about. Probably tired out from Sammy’s
interrogations. And Sammy fell asleep in the backseat almost as
soon as we got back on the highway to go home. Which was even
more reason not to start up another conversation.

Until we reached my house. When Peter pulled up to the curb, I

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knew I had to make a choice one way or another about the
invitation I’d issued earlier. The problem with that was…I
couldn’t.

So I didn’t. I made Peter decide.
“Are you coming in?”
Peter hesitated just long enough to make me think he would say

no. It would serve me right for taking the coward’s way out.
“Yeah. For a few minutes, anyway. Don’t want to overstay my
welcome.”

He held the door open for me so I could scoop Sam into my

arms without waking him. We made it all the way to the porch
before I realized where my keys were.

I was grateful for the darkness as I felt my face heat up. “Um, I

have a problem here.”

“Anything I can help with?”
“That depends.” Nothing I could do but bite the bullet. “Do you

want to take Sammy, or do you want to get my keys out of my
pocket?”

It was dark, but not so dark that I couldn’t see Peter’s amused

grin. “Right or left?”

“Right.” I gritted my teeth and focused on the weight of

Sammy against my chest, rather than think about those long, slim
fingers reaching into my pants to dig around for my key ring.

Peter turned to stand just behind me and pushed his hand into

the tight pocket. I was wearing jeans, so of course he barely had
room to move. His hand pushed right up against my thigh and I
had to bite my tongue when the tips of his fingers skimmed the
side of my shaft before he successfully curled them around the key
ring.

“Found them,” Peter whispered triumphantly, pulling his hand

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free.

“Square silver key.”
I hung back as Peter unlocked the door, but the second it was

open, I rushed past him, heading straight for the stairs. Getting
Sam to bed was the best distraction ever. It gave me time to stop
thinking about how close his hand had been to my cock, and how
good he smelled when he stood behind me. I deliberately took my
time getting a groggy Sam out of his clothes and into his pajamas.
By the time he was curled up beneath his blankets, I felt much
more in control.

Peter had said he was only sticking around for a few minutes.

I’d managed all of last night in his company without a single
inappropriate reaction. I could certainly last however long Peter
decided to stay tonight.

I was reassuring myself that everything would be fine when I

stepped out of the bedroom and practically walked into Peter. My
heart leaped to my throat, but Peter’s palm shot out to cover my
mouth before I could scream. His eyes widened and he quickly
snatched his hand away. I could still feel it, though. That and my
heart hammering like it wanted to explode from my chest.

“Jesus. Don’t do that.”
“Sorry.” Peter’s grin belied his apology. “I was just thinking I

didn’t get a tour of the place last night.”

I was ready to blurt out that giving a tour while Sam was sound

asleep was the best way to wake him up when I realized this was
the perfect opportunity to keep Peter even more at arm’s length. I’d
be focused on the house, not him, and he’d be better equipped next
time he came to visit to find a bathroom without stumbling into a
closet.

“All right.” I hooked a thumb at the closed door behind me.

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“That’s Sam’s room. Don’t go in there without knocking first. He’s
gotten funny this past year about his privacy and I’m trying to
respect that.”

“That should be easy enough to remember. Though I can’t

think of a reason why I’d barge into his room. What’s down that
hall?”

I led the way, though I was aware Peter walked very close

behind me. “Linen closet. Boring. Guest bedroom. Never gets
used. Sammy’s bathroom.” The last door was ajar. I wish I’d
thought to close it when we’d left earlier. “My bedroom.”

“Are you funny about your privacy?”
“That would require people actually being interested in testing

it. Nobody ever comes up here except Sam.”

Peter tilted his head, making a show of peering through the

opening in the door. “Do you ever invite anybody else up here?”

“Nope. You’re the first.” It was rude not showing more, so I

pushed the door the rest of the way, revealing the untidy bed and
the towel from my shower that morning still draped over the chair
near the bathroom door. “And yes, I’m a terrible housekeeper. I’ve
never really understood the point of making your bed when it’s just
going to get messed up again in a few hours anyway.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the but-it’ll-be-a-mess-again-anyway

defense. Morgan is a fan of it, too. So…I’m the first up here in
how many years, exactly?”

“Four.” I wandered in and tugged self-consciously at the corner

of the navy comforter. It was the first thing I’d bought after the
funeral. I couldn’t stand the thought of crawling into bed every
night and sleeping under the blankets Ellie had picked out. “Not
since Sam’s mother died.”

“I’m sorry. For your loss and for asking. It’s not any of my

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business.”

The smile had gone from Peter’s face. I knew he meant what he

said, but I didn’t want to hear it right now. “No, no, that’s okay. I
probably should’ve told you about her sooner. So you’d be
prepared in case Sam said anything.”

“Don’t worry about it. Not everybody can be the king of

oversharing.” Peter took a step closer, and I became aware of his
scent again. What was pleasant outside was slightly overwhelming
in this room that hadn’t smelled of another person in years. “What
happened to her?”

Time had made it easier to dispense the details without getting

caught up in them as fiercely as I had at the start. “Car accident.
She was late leaving work to pick Sammy up at pre-school, and
probably wasn’t paying close enough attention because she was in
a hurry. Someone ran a red and broadsided her.”

“God, I can’t imagine how devastating that must have been.

But… you’ve done an amazing job… with Sam and holding it all
together.”

“In a way, Sammy and his breathing problems… it made it a

little easier. I could focus on helping him instead of what we’d
lost.” I grimaced as what I’d said sank in. “Jesus, I sound like a
real shit. I didn’t mean for that to come out like I’m glad Sammy
was sick.”

“I know.” Peter touched my arm. “I know you’d give anything

to make him completely healthy. But his illness helped you focus
on staying strong and moving forward. You don’t sound like a shit
for saying that.”

I hadn’t talked to anybody about Ellie in years. Her family had

tried, but they’d been locked up in their own grief. Mine didn’t
care. My father had never liked Ellie, and the fact that we’d had a

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son who was less than perfect only cemented his distaste for our
relationship. He was the second biggest reason I’d moved from the
east coast to the west. The distance made him easier to tolerate.

I did my best not to think about her. I knew that wasn’t

necessarily the healthiest way of dealing with her loss, but it had
helped both Sam and I get through a very difficult time in our
lives. Peter understood that. His empathy unexpectedly touched
me. He didn’t know me—not really, his observations at the
Aquarium had been very accurate in spite of my protestations—but
his fervent support in how I’d handled Ellie’s death bolstered
reserves I hadn’t realized were quite so low. Because knowing
someone didn’t think I was the worst father of the year for relying
on my son’s illness to help me cope was all I really needed to keep
going.

His hand was still on my arm. When I glanced down at it, he

withdrew, but slowly enough for me to know he didn’t regret it.

“I didn’t mean to be a downer,” I said, though smiling seemed

beyond my capability at the moment. “I guess that explains why
nobody else has been up here in so long.”

“You’re not a downer. I did ask. Do you want to…continue the

tour?”

The tour. Right. I’d forgotten what got us started on this topic.
“There’s not much left.” We wandered back into the hall and

headed for the stairs. “You’ve seen the kitchen and the family
room. That just leaves my office.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t bully my way there. I have a feeling

even fewer people have been invited into that room than your
bedroom.”

I cast a glance back at him as we reached the top of the stairs.

“You didn’t bully anything.”

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“If you say so.” Peter stepped down the first stair, and paused

to turn back to face me. “It’s getting late. I should probably…go.”

It was the escape I’d been hoping for if I wanted to have any

peace of mind, but now that he suggested it, the prospect of him
going wasn’t quite as appealing. “What happened to entertaining
me for the night?” I tried to tease.

“Like I said before, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.

And…well…I’m afraid I want to stay.”

“Then that makes two of us.” As soon as the words came out, I

knew they were true. The prospect of facing the night alone, now
that Ellie’s ghost had been conjured, was terrifying. Peter would
make that better. Kind of like how he’d made everything else
better in the time I’d known him. Maybe if he knew how much I
needed him around… “I’m not ready for you to go yet.”

Peter studied my face for a beat before his smile returned.

“Okay. Then what have you got to drink around here?”

I brushed past him and, together, we went to the kitchen. Heavy

spirits wasn’t my usual thing, but I had a few different varieties of
beer in the fridge to choose from. We each picked one out, and I
sipped at the cool liquid, grateful for the ease it immediately
suffused through my body.

“This house gets so quiet at night,” I confessed. “I never really

thought about it until after you left yesterday, but it was better
when you were here.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re a self-described workaholic.”
“Probably. What do you do when Morgan’s not around?”
Peter licked the drops of moisture from his bottom lip. “I keep

busy. Actually, I may have given you the wrong impression last
night. I have a pretty active…social life.”

He was talking about hook-ups. My gaze flickered to the hand

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curled around the beer bottle, then shot back to his face in time to
see him swipe across his lips again. Stifling my natural reaction, I
grinned and leaned against the island. It provided the perfect cover
to hide my burgeoning erection.

“Does that mean my matchmaker services aren’t required?”
“Pretty much. But I could offer my own matchmaking services.

If you were interested.”

I laughed. “Oh, I’m less date-able than you think you are. That

would totally be a lost cause.”

“Why do you think that? You seem extremely date-able to me.

Plus, I never said I wasn’t date-able, I said I couldn’t find anybody
suitable for an actual relationship.”

“Because I’ve got the exact same problem you do. Except full-

time. Not to mention all I ever do is work. I’d be canceling all the
time.”

“Okay, I’m not talking about helping you find a

fulltime…boyfriend? Girlfriend? But if you want to break your dry
spell, I can help you. Find somebody. For that.”

It was a little funny that we’d gone from talking about his love

life last night to mine tonight, but maybe the fact that we’d already
mentioned Ellie made it inevitable. “I wouldn’t even know who to
have you look for,” I said.

“Probably just because you haven’t thought about it in awhile.

Though, to be honest, if you’re primarily interested in women, I’m
not going to be a big help to you.”

Except I’d thought about it today, hadn’t I? I’d thought of

Peter. I was still thinking of Peter, which was entirely unfair to
him.

“I haven’t been with a guy since before I met Ellie.” I paused

and played with my beer bottle, unable to meet Peter’s eyes as I

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admitted the next. “You’re probably the first person since college
I’ve even told I was bi.”

“Would it be stressful for you? I mean, being with a guy now

after so long.”

“Stressful?” That was a curious word. “You mean, because of

Sam?”

“No, that’s not quite…I guess I meant would it make you

nervous now since it’s been what…ten years or so?”

“Eleven,” I corrected automatically. “And no, not really, not in

that regard. I mean, before Ellie, I’d been with more guys than
girls.”

“Okay, then we’ve got the first part settled. You want a guy.

Now, what’s your type?”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled. “How on earth does finding out I’ve

been with more guys before Ellie get us to ‘we’ve settled it’?”

“You confirmed you wouldn’t be nervous or anything with a

guy, and I already told you that I couldn’t find you a girl. Besides,
it’s easier to find no-strings attached sex if you’re looking for cock.
So it’s settled.”

All of a sudden, I was twenty years old again. That was the last

time I’d been in the company of a man who’d so comfortably
talked about trolling for cock, and even then, I’d blushed like I was
a girl at hearing it so blatantly discussed.

I was blushing again, and this time, there was nothing for me to

hide it behind.

“Maybe this is a bad idea.” I took a long swig of my beer,

hoping it would help cool me off. Stupid idea didn’t work.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean to make you

uncomfortable. We can talk about something else.”

“It’s not you.” Well, it was, to a degree, because he was the one

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I’d spent the last twenty-four hours thinking about. “It’s…I’m just
not used to it. In college, the guys I hooked up with were
always…older. So I never really hung out with them. I always
hung out with straight guys, so talking about pussy, sure, that I’m
used to. It’s just…different hearing cock talked about in the same
way. That’s all.”

“It’ll get easier with time. But we don’t have to talk about cock

right now. We can focus on other things.” Peter’s lips quirked.
“You an ass man?”

I choked on my beer. Peter’s grin only widened. “Do you do

that just to get to me?” I demanded. “Or is this kind of bluntness
something I should start getting used to?”

“You say that like the choices are mutually exclusive.”
My eyes narrowed. Fine. Two could play this game. I mulled

the possibilities in my head for several seconds before choosing the
right one. “All right, then.” I leaned closer, keeping my gaze
locked on his. “I’m not an ass man. I’m an on my knees, fuck me
’til I scream, then fuck me some more, man. Is that what you’re
looking for?”

Peter stared at me, took a deep drink, and cleared his throat.

“Yes. That’s exactly what…I’m looking for.” His words faded as
he spoke, and he had another long swallow from the bottle before
adding, “It’ll help me narrow down the options.”

My head filled with the sudden image of Peter preparing a

shopping list of my preferences to compare to the men he knew. I
didn’t imagine it would actually be that difficult. In my
experience—even if it was a decade old—bottoms were a lot easier
to find than tops. That was one reason why I’d preferred older
men. I liked being in control with women, but when it came to my
own gender, I got off hardest when I was the one giving it up.

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

But finding someone wasn’t as easy as he seemed to think it

would be. I was picky. I knew that. I always had been. I’d been
attractive enough in college to be able to score the guys who
interested me, but I wasn’t that same kid anymore. I was a little
heavier, a little more lined. I didn’t want just any guy who liked to
piledrive a ready ass. I wanted somebody who made me notice
him. Someone who commanded my attention.

“How do you do it?” I asked. “When you’re horny, and your

hand just isn’t cutting it, what do you do to find someone?”

“The year after the divorce, when I didn’t have Morgan, I used

different hook-up sites to find guys in my area. It was easy and
fast, and I had some really good experiences. But…well, I don’t
think you’d like that. You shouldn’t do that. Now I just…have a
few friends I see sometimes.”

Peter knew me too well already. The idea of hook-up sites

scared the daylights out of me. I wondered how happy he was with
his arrangement, though. He’d seemed genuine last night when he
talked about wanting something a little less superficial. I couldn’t
blame him for taking what he could get, but he really deserved
better than that.

“Your solution isn’t to set me up with one of your friends, is

it?”

“No. I don’t think you’d like them. They tend to be the ‘on my

knees, fuck me till I scream’ type.”

I blinked. “Wait. That means…”
“Yeah.” Peter lifted his eyes to meet mine, and my heart

pounded against my ribs. “That’s what it means.”

My mouth went dry. For whatever reason, I’d assumed Peter

was a bottom. He had that whole eager to please vibe going for
him, not to mention being on the lanky side. Okay, that last part

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was playing into a huge stereotype, and I, of all people, should
know better about that, but still, I hadn’t seen this one coming at
all.

And now I couldn’t stop seeing it. Because my obsession with

his hands took on a whole new meaning knowing his preferences.
Now, I saw it wrapped around my cock, squeezing almost
painfully to keep me from coming as he pounded into me from
behind. I felt his long fingers prying my cheeks apart to get to my
hole, then sliding into my slick channel to stretch me out. I saw
them pinned around my wrists to keep me still, or framing my face
as he slid his cock into my mouth.

Damn it. This was a complication I hadn’t seen coming at all.
“I guess you were right about not having to worry about

finding willing partners,” I said with an awkward smile, trying to
lighten the air that had seemed to settle like dead weight between
us.

“Usually it’s not a problem.” Peter reached out, touching the

back of my hand. “Aaron, I don’t really know the best way to put
this, so I’m just going to say it. I really want to kiss you right now,
and if you don’t want me to do that, you should probably tell me to
go home.”

“You’re attracted to me?” My flush deepened at how stupid I

sounded. But I felt like an idiot, for having misjudged his
sexuality, for having missed any signs. Had there been signs? Was
I so far out of the loop that I’d missed them entirely?

“I am. And if you don’t feel the same way about me, it’s cool. I

won’t bring it up again. But God, Aaron.” He curled his fingers
around my hand. “I can’t talk about fixing you up with somebody
when I keep staring at your mouth and having these thoughts.”

I stared at the bend of his long, elegant fingers, the way they

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enveloped my broader, shorter hand. My cock throbbed against my
fly, and the hair on the back of my neck kept prickling to attention.
There was no denying his motivations. The heat from his body
bled into mine. He’d said it as well, willing to back away and
forget this had ever happened if I only said the word.

Without thinking, I latched onto his hand and jerked him

forward, at the same time I came around the corner of the island.
He kind of stumbled into me, but I caught him with my free hand
shooting to his hip, holding him steady as I threw caution to the
wind and pressed my mouth to his.

Peter moaned and wrapped his arm around my shoulders,

pulling me closer as he parted his lips. My tongue touched his first,
but it seemed he was only waiting for the invitation to plunge his
between my lips. I followed his lead, deepening the kiss until my
head was swirling. It’d been so long since I kissed anybody that I
was scared I’d fuck it up somehow. Be too aggressive or slobber
all over his mouth or something. But when I lifted my head to
catch my breath, Peter’s mouth followed mine, eagerly reclaiming
it with a sweep of his tongue.

He gave me no time to try and gather my senses. The long

length of his body pushed mine into the edge of the island, and the
best I could do was attempt to keep up. Each time he twisted his
tongue around mine, a shudder wracked through me. Each taste he
offered had me digging my fingers even harder into his hip. I
couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t catch up, and God, I hadn’t felt
this good and this on fire in a very long time.

Peter shifted, grinding his erection against my thigh, his hand

sliding over my shoulder and down my chest. The pressure of his
fingers made me long for his bare skin. I wanted to feel it gliding
over mine, tracing every inch of my chest before those elegant

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fingers moved lower to fist my cock.

He gasped against my mouth, but I couldn’t let him get away. I

nipped at his lips, my teeth catching his swollen flesh for a
moment before I soothed it with the tip of my tongue. He moaned
again, my throat clenching at the low vibration.

“So were these the thoughts you were having about my

mouth?” I murmured.

“Some of them.”
I think I might have whimpered. I tried to cover it up by

skimming my lips along the sharp line of his jaw.

“Do you think we should move this to a room with a door?”
“Are we…” I pulled back, gulping for air. His face swam in

front of me, his eyes much darker than normal, his mouth tempting
and wet. I longed to lean forward and kiss him again, but I’d
already obeyed one impulse tonight without thinking. I wasn’t sure
I could do that again. “What are we actually doing here?”

“What do you want to be doing here? If you just want to neck

in the kitchen for awhile, I’m good with that.”

My body wanted a hell of a lot more than necking, but Sam

was upstairs, and this was his new best friend’s father, and things
could get messy very fast if we didn’t lay some ground rules now.

Slowly, I disengaged farther, though with Peter still locking me

against the island, it wasn’t very far. “I honestly don’t know. Not
that I haven’t been thinking about you all day long, and not that
you’re not an amazing kisser, but I figured I’d be living vicariously
through you, not with you.”

“I know this has the potential to get complicated,” Peter said

softly. “But you’ve been thinking about me, and I’ve definitely
been thinking about you. We can keep things casual and low-key,
no expectations, no strings.”

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He described almost every relationship I’d ever had before

meeting Ellie. I could definitely do casual, especially since
thinking about trying to explain it to Sam gave me a headache.
“That’s what I want. I don’t want the boys to know.”

“No, of course not.” Peter nuzzled against my jaw, inhaling

deeply as his lips brushed my chin. “Can you get a sitter for
tomorrow night?”

My eyes fluttered shut. I could literally feel my brain melting

beneath the heat of my skin. “If you promise I’ll end up with rug
burns on my knees, I’ll get anything you want.”

“Come over for lunch and I guarantee it.”
“Okay.” I caught his nape and held him still long enough to

nibble at the salty sinew of his neck. “I get to eat you, right?”

“Yeah, I’m going to be too busy to cook.” Peter tried to step

back, but my hand on his hip stopped him. He sighed, rocking
against me, his cock straining against the denim. “But I should
probably go while I’m still somewhat capable of thinking straight.”

Reluctantly, I released my hold. My fingers ached from how

tight my grip had been. When he stepped back, I allowed myself
the luxury of dropping my gaze to his crotch, boldly ogling the
long line of his erection. My ass clenched in reflex. On the way
over to his apartment tomorrow, I was buying an extra-large value
box of condoms and the biggest bottle of lube I could find.

“Walking straight might be another matter,” I said with a grin.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” I followed Peter’s hand

with my eyes as he adjusted himself. It didn’t seem to do him any
good. “At least I don’t live far from here. I should be able to get
home before I burst.”

Now that we’d come to the agreement, I was feeling

remarkably liberated. And playful. “Try not to think about me

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jacking off in the shower, then. Because that’s what I’m going to
do as soon as you walk out that door.”

Peter groaned and put more space between us. “I’m trying to be

strong for your sake here. Don’t make me regret my nobleness.”

“Does that mean I shouldn’t walk you to the car and risk

getting groped along the way?”

Peter held his hands up defensively. “If you walk me out to the

car, I’m going to do more than grope you.”

“Then I’ll say good night here.” I smiled. “And thank you. For

a great day.”

“Good night, Aaron.” Peter practically fled then, pausing at the

door long enough to add, “Dream about me.”

I was still smiling when the door clicked shut behind him.

Because I was pretty sure I would.

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CHAPTER 7

I didn’t jerk off when I got home, though I was hard and my

balls were aching. I wanted to. I wanted to fist my cock and tug on
my sac and think about Aaron’s beautiful mouth and his strong
fingers, but anything less than Aaron’s hand was a complete
disappointment. I fell asleep thinking about him.

Unsurprisingly, I dreamed about him all night. Every second,

every image, every sweat-soaked, desperate moment of need all
came back to Aaron. It was like I’d never had sex before. Or
maybe, more like I’ve never had sex with somebody like Aaron
before. There were gorgeous man littered through my past—I
wasn’t known for having bad taste—but none of them were like
Aaron. By the time I woke up, as hard as when I fell asleep, I
understood the difference between Aaron and other men. With

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every other guy I’ve fucked, I was horny and honestly, any willing
partner would do. But I wasn’t just horny now. I was aching for
Aaron.

I woke a good six hours before I even expected to see Aaron,

which meant I had a lot of time on my hands. I cleaned the
apartment from top to bottom, prepared a decent amount of food in
case we did feel like eating, and hoped Aaron wasn’t going to
change his mind. What if he did change his mind? What if he woke
up and realized that fucking me wasn’t a great idea? What if he
just wasn’t interested anymore? What if his babysitter fell through?
What if he got bogged down with work? What if he just forgot?
Okay, honestly, I didn’t think Aaron was going to forget anything.
What we shared the night before couldn’t just be forgotten, unless
Aaron had some sort of medical problem. But all of the other fears
were within the realm of possibility, and I wasn’t sure I could
handle the disappointment if Aaron didn’t show.

About an hour before Aaron’s arrival, I started walking around

with my phone in hand. Every time it vibrated, I jumped,
wondering if this would be the call that ruined my day. But it
wasn’t, and I began to believe that my fears were unfounded.
About thirty minutes before lunch, I gave up on keeping myself
busy and collapsed on the couch, eyes closed to relive every
second of the night before. I still couldn’t quite believe I’d been so
bold with Aaron, but he’d looked so…lost. No, not lost. But there
had been a real vulnerability on his face, an edge of confusion in
his eyes, like he knew he needed something but couldn’t figure out
how to ask for it. I honestly didn’t think he’d refuse me if I made
my desires clear—between the rush of the alcohol and the warm
flush of happiness from just being near Aaron, I was feeling pretty
confident. Or maybe I’d been light-headed and lust-addled and

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desperate to touch Aaron’s mouth. Either way, it’d felt right, and
then it felt so, so much better than that.

I didn’t even know where I wanted to begin with Aaron now.

There would definitely be more kissing, pawing, groping,
massaging. I wanted to pull his shirt off and nip at his chest. I
wanted to lick and suck on his nipples. I wanted to rest my mouth
against his pulse and feel his heart hammering while I stroked his
cock. I wanted to smell his sweat and taste the salty slick of his
arousal. I wanted to drag him into my bedroom and make him
forget everything but his own desires, for just a little while. Aaron
worked so hard, he deserved to have a little mental vacation. I
wanted to see his flushed skin against my cool, white sheets, and
fuck him with slow, sweet strokes in the late afternoon shadows.

The sheer intensity of this desire alarmed me more than a little.

Aaron had already made it clear that we were not going to be
anything except casual. This wasn’t going to be any more serious
or special than any of my other friends-with-benefits. Aaron didn’t
need or want any more than that in his life. I totally understood
that. It must have been difficult for Aaron in the past few years,
and he needed somebody he could trust, somebody he felt at ease
with, to be his first after four years of celibacy. Did I want
something different? I guess it would be fair to say that I wanted
something more, but I’ve wanted something more for longer than
the week or so I’ve known Aaron. Just because I was mentally and
emotionally ready for a real relationship didn’t mean I had any
right to impose those thoughts on Aaron. I promised him a good
time and discretion, and I was more than happy to deliver on both
of those.

When the knock came at the door, I nearly jumped out of my

skin. I bolted for the door, only to realize when I reached to open it

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that I was still holding my phone. Hurriedly, I shoved the phone
into my pocket, swiped my damp palm down the front of my jeans,
and tried again.

Aaron stood there in mid-reach of knocking. He was dressed

casually, though even in jeans and a navy pullover he still looked
like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. His hair was
perfect, his eyes bright, and at first sight of me, he smiled, even if
it faded to something more subdued almost right away.

“Hi,” he said, fidgeting with the Trader Joe’s bag he carried in

his free hand. “I’m early. I’m sorry. I probably should’ve sat
downstairs in the car for a little bit longer.”

“A bit longer?” It was all I could do not to take him by the

shoulders and pull him against me. Instead I stepped back just
enough to let him enter. “How long have you been downstairs?”

“Um…” His cheeks had colored at my question. I don’t think

I’d ever get over how adorable he got when he blushed. “How long
doesn’t make me look ridiculous?”

“Will you feel better if I tell you that I’ve been up since six

thinking about you?” I reached for the bag he still clutched like a
lifeline. “What have you got there?”

He handed it over and promptly shoved his hand into his

pocket. “Supplies. And beer. I didn’t know what you’d have.”

“Fortunately, there’s no such thing as having too much of

either.” I’d been anxious all morning, but that was more of a result
of excitement than actual nerves. Aaron looked like he couldn’t be
more uncomfortable. But he was there. And I could deal with a few
butterflies as long as he didn’t flee. “I did actually make some
food. If you’re hungry.”

He shook his head. “Maybe later, though. I’m still…part of me

doesn’t really believe this is happening.”

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It was ridiculous to keep my distance when we both knew he

was only there for one reason. I put my hand on his shoulder,
smoothing my palm over the ridge to cup the back of his neck and
pull him closer. He didn’t resist, but he still looked a bit uneasy
around his eyes. He smelled even better than I remembered, and I
inhaled deeply so I wouldn’t forget the notes of his cologne again.

“It’s happening. And it’s going to be great.”
His tense posture slowly eased as I massaged his nape, the

muscles becoming more pliant beneath my fingers. “I barely slept
last night. I woke up at two from a wet dream about you, and then I
couldn’t get back to sleep. My brain wouldn’t turn off.”

“I couldn’t sleep, either.”
I dipped my head and gently pulled his full bottom lip between

mine. Aaron moaned, parting his lips and letting his tongue brush
over mine. The soft contact evolved into a full kiss, our tongues
sliding together while his arm went around my waist, his muscles
bulging as he flexed it around me. I couldn’t believe Aaron was
here. I couldn’t believe we were standing in my living room and I
was kissing him like my life depended on it.

His body arched into mine, the hard line of his erection

undeniable where it ground against my hip. His moans hadn’t
stopped. Each time our mouths shifted, he got a little louder, only
muffling the sounds when our lips would fuse together again. He
might have been nervous about coming in, but now that he was
here, now that we’d taken this first, all important step, he’d let that
go, tumbling into more kisses with a growing enthusiasm.

I moved my hands lower, dragging my palms down his back to

cup his ass. I squeezed him through the tight denim, kneading my
fingers into the firm flesh while I plundered his mouth. He quickly
responded to each curve and twist of my tongue, and I remembered

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what he said about being pushed to his knees. I wasn’t going to
have him suck me off right there in the living room, but I could
already sense his eagerness, his willingness to let me use his body.
His beautiful, perfect body that nobody had seen or touched for
years. I needed to get him naked.

“Ready to take this to the bedroom?” I asked against his mouth.
“God, yes.”
I caught his wrist and led him down the hall. Beneath my

fingertips, his pulse hammered away, but he didn’t resist my pull
or hesitate entering my room. As soon as we were inside, he
actually closed the distance between us again, pressing to my back
and coiling the arm I held around my waist.

“I have a confession to make.” His breath fanned over my

neck, tickling beneath my collar. Even more reasons for us to be
rid of our clothes, once and for all. “And it’ll be easier to admit it if
you’re not looking at me.”

I pushed back slightly, settling my ass more firmly against his

cock. “Well, my priest always told me confession was good for the
soul.”

He choked back a moan and rested his forehead against my

shoulder. “Jesus, I’m going to come in my pants if you keep doing
that.”

I shifted, grinding against him until he moaned again. “Okay,

I’ll stop, since I’d rather you come in my mouth.”

The wrist I still had in my grip tensed as his fingers curled into

a fist. I wasn’t playing fair, and I knew it, but he’d pulled the same
shit with me last night with all his comments about jerking off in
the shower and eating me and getting rug burns. Turnaround was
fair play.

Teeth raked along my back. “Do you want this confession or

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not?”

I dropped my head forward and shivered as his teeth scraped

over my skin. “I absolutely do.”

“Your hands.” Without pulling free of my hold, he began

rubbing the heel of his fist along the trapped length of my cock.
“I’ve kind of got a thing for your hands.”

“And what would you like me to do with my hands?” I meant

the question to sound flirty and confident, but it was actually
breathless and about an octave higher than usual.

“Anything. Everything.” He lifted his head, his breath returning

to my neck. The flick of his tongue below my ear sent a shiver
rattling through me. “My dream last night? Was you getting me
ready to be fucked. I came before you ever got your cock in me. It
was just all your fingers.”

“I wouldn’t normally brag like this but…” I pressed his hand

firmly against my cock, groaning at the pressure. Honestly, if we
kept this up, I’d be the one coming prematurely. “I’m pretty sure I
can make your dreams come true.”

The tremor that ran through him reverberated into me. His fist

unfurled, allowing his fingers to claw at my fly. “We have got to
get naked. Now.”

“Gladly,” I said, turning to face him, my hand going to his

zipper.

We helped each other undress with more than a hint of

desperation. I could sense his arousal on a visceral level, tasting it
on the air, feeling it in the electric charge between us. When I
finally had him completely naked, his body at my mercy, I dropped
to my knees. I couldn’t help it. He was stunning, and I think there’s
something instinctual about putting things in our mouths. We see
something beautiful, something interesting or new or perplexing,

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and what is our first impulse? To taste it. That was my only goal at
that point.

“This wasn’t…” The rest of it choked off in his throat as I

caught the base of his cock between my thumb and index finger to
hold it steady while I swiped my tongue over the wet tip. His hand
shot out and gripped my shoulder. Fuck, he was strong, as strong
as he looked and now devoid of the control he normally had such a
tight leash on. He dug in even harder when I turned my head to
skim my lips down his length. “You promised me rug burns,
remember. I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I know.” My eyes rolled back when I reached the base of his

cock and buried my face against his groin, lapping at him in
between breaths. He must have showered just before he came over
because he smelled of spicy soap. I lifted his shaft and moved my
head lower, pushing my nose against his heavy sac. I lapped my
tongue over the loose skin, his soft hair tickling my lips. I knew
what he wanted, but he just felt so good that I had to indulge
myself for a few more minutes.

The longer I took savoring his balls, the more he relaxed. His

hand slid to the side of my neck, caressing up and down, toying
with a lock of hair, tracing the curve of my ear. When I glanced up
at him through my lashes, I caught him watching me, a look of awe
bright in his eyes. It vanished a moment later, as soon as he
realized he’d been noticed.

“I’d forgotten how good a hot mouth can feel.” His tongue

darted out to moisten his lower lip. “Internet porn isn’t going to be
the same after this.”

I grinned, moving my cheek along his shaft, spreading his pre-

come over my face before tonguing his balls again. “Am I turning
you into a big slut?”

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He snorted. “I don’t think so. I haven’t even had the chance to

do anything yet.” A grin split his features. “Besides, that implies I
was never a slut before.”

His skin was silky soft to the touch, and my lips tingled with

the pleasure of it. I leisurely skimmed my lips from the base to his
head, taking special care to clean the clear fluid from his tip. “I bet
you were a heartbreaker.”

“No, I never got involved.” He was still touching me, fingertips

slightly rough where they found patches of smooth skin. “If it
looked like it might be heading in that direction, I usually called it
off.”

That knowledge coupled with his anxious insistence that we

remain casual made me think that his wife must have been one hell
of a woman to tie him down. And I still believed him to be a
heartbreaker. Just because he didn’t get emotionally involved
didn’t mean that his partners never did. How could they stop
themselves, really? How could I stop myself?

I pushed that thought back and refocused on the texture of

Aaron’s skin against my mouth, feeling him against my lips, my
teeth, my tongue, the roof of my mouth, and finally the back of my
throat. I held him like that for as long as I could, coating my
tongue with the taste of him before I let him pull my head away.
As soon as he dropped from my lips, I surged to my feet and
claimed him with a hard kiss.

Powerful arms clamped around me. I wasn’t going anywhere

this time, locked in his embrace with a desperation that had him
quivering. I cupped his head between my hands and forced him to
be just as still, my fingers knotted in his hair, my teeth tearing at
his lips. He took it, every nip, every pull, even chasing me down
when I had to gasp for breath.

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I pushed gently, guiding him back to the bed without lifting my

head. I couldn’t get over how well his body fit against mine, or
how his muscles flexed beneath his taut skin, or the heat radiating
from him. I felt like I was starved for touch, like every moment of
contact was something to be indulged in and even treasured. At
least I could comfort myself with the knowledge that Aaron
probably felt the same way, and so wouldn’t notice the desperate
way I kissed him. When we finally stretched out on the bed, I
pushed my hand between our bodies to cup his balls and caress the
sensitive skin behind.

His legs immediately parted, giving me more room to explore.

One heel braced against the bed, and when he thrust his hips, the
wet tip of his cock dragged against my skin.

“My turn,” he announced.
He ducked his head to suck hard at the base of my throat. His

lower body didn’t stop moving, but the farther down he got, the
harder I found it to keep touching him. We both knew what he
wanted. He’d made his desires perfectly clear, over and over again.
And now, the thought of those lips wrapping around my cock was
starting to consume me, too.

Aaron rolled me to my back, smoothing his hands up and down

my chest—which was nowhere as impressive as his. He dragged
his hands down to my thighs, pushing them up and open. His
mouth roamed over every bit of skin he could reach, leaving wet,
hungry kisses on my stomach, hips, and thighs. I ran my fingers
through his hair, fascinated by the way the silky strands felt as they
slid over my skin. But the moment his mouth touched my cock, my
fingers tightened into a fist. I clutched at him, catching my breath
as his pink tongue darted out to sample my skin.

He didn’t start at the tip. Instead, his lips hovered mid-shaft,

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barely touching as his tongue did all the work. He traced the same
length of vein, up and down, then dragged the flat of his tongue
across it. His hot breath sped up with each swipe, fanning along
my lower abdomen, and his free hand curled into the blankets, like
he was holding on for dear life.

When he moved, it was down, toward my balls, pausing along

the way to repeat his devotion. At the base, he turned his head, his
chin nudging against my sac for a brief moment before he licked a
long, slow path up what he’d previously explored. I expected him
to stop where he’d started. He seemed interested in prolonging this
for as much as he could get away with. But he didn’t. He went all
the way to the crown, over the ridge of the flared head, to slide the
tip of his tongue over my wet slit.

“Oh God,” I moaned, jerking my hips, eager for more heat, but

he didn’t let me slam my cock into his mouth. He lapped at the
head, dragging his tongue over my tight skin again and again until
I thought I was going to go mad. I needed to be patient with him,
let him explore and move on his own time, but the light pressure of
his tongue was just enough to drive me crazy. When he finally
closed his lips around my crown, I couldn’t stop myself from
shouting his name.

His moan might have been pleasure. It might have been delight.

It might even have been satisfaction in getting such a strong
reaction from me. I didn’t really care what motivated it. I just fell
head over heels in lust with the way it made my whole cock
vibrate, because he didn’t stop, it never stopped, not when he slid
down to take a few more inches inside his mouth, not when he slid
back up and scraped a single incisor along the sensitive head. He
had the breath control of a swimmer.

Or better yet, the control of an experienced—and hungry—

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cocksucker.

I watched him intently, not missing a second. His lips were a

soft shade of pink where they stretched around my shaft, just a few
shades off my own flushed skin. His cheeks hollowed as he took
more of my length into his mouth, highlighting his strong features,
just the sight of him enough to make my head spin. The heat and
suction were delicious, the pressure and friction building with each
slow stroke. He teased me by lingering at the crown, using his
tongue and teeth to draw my hot blood to the surface before
sinking an inch, then another, and another down my shaft. When
his mouth reached the base, I bucked forward, forgetting that
Aaron might not be ready for more, just desperate to feel his throat
clench around me.

He grunted, but I slid in almost effortlessly, his nose mashing

against my pubes as he scooped his hand beneath my ass to hold
me steady. His fingers teased with how close they were to my hole,
but he wasn’t interested in exploration. He didn’t move from the
bracing position he’d put himself in, focusing instead on
swallowing around my cock. Constant moans emanated from his
throat, higher pitched than the ones previous. The lone spot of
motion came with his thumb and the slow caresses it drew across
the bare skin behind my balls.

“Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good.” I tilted my head back and

gasped, my lungs burning with need for oxygen. Aaron eased back,
his lips gliding up my shaft in a long, slow gesture before sinking
forward again. He used his hold on my ass to guide me with him,
pulling me up to meet his mouth each time he lifted his head. He
was so eager, so hungry for me, that I didn’t have to do anything at
all except let the pleasure wash through me. “I can’t wait to fuck
you. Can’t wait to take your ass.”

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My words drew even more moans from him, and a faster

rhythm that threatened to turn me into a liar. At this rate, I
wouldn’t even make it into him before shooting my load, but I
didn’t have to fortitude to pull him off me. His tongue kept finding
spots on my cock that sent little sparks straight to my balls, and his
appreciative swallows whenever I was buried in his throat were too
addictive to give up yet.

He was the one to lift his head, though the sight of his swollen,

glistening mouth nearly did me in. The eyes that met mine were
dark and ravenous, and his nostrils flared as he struggled to catch
his breath.

“Fuck me,” he said. “No more waiting.”
I nodded, rolling away from him to grab the lubricant from the

nightstand. Aaron settled on his stomach, pulling his legs beneath
him so his ass stuck up in the air. I wanted to bury my cock inside
of him right away and forget about the lube and the condom.
Aaron didn’t help me resist that temptation. I had the feeling he
wanted the same thing. I pulled his cheeks apart to expose his hole,
preparing to pour the lube over his flesh, but the need to taste him
overwhelmed me again, and I circled his pucker with my tongue.

His head slammed forward into the pillow, muffling the

“Fuck!” he couldn’t hold back. His hole clenched, teasing me with
how tight it would be, and didn’t relax until I traced around it
again. When he pushed back against my mouth, however, I
couldn’t resist any longer. I pointed my tongue and pushed past the
small outer ring, shuddering as the muscles tightened around it.

“God, Peter…please, don’t stop, don’t…” His cock dripped

steadily onto the sheets. His warnings about how fast he’d come
suddenly seemed a lot more realistic.

I fisted his cock, slicking my palm, my tongue moving in and

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out of him in the same rhythm. I still had every intention of
fucking him, but he was driving me crazy with his pleas, and the
soft moans between the words, and the way his muscles clenched
and fluttered around my tongue. I took his hip with my other hand
and pulled him back, gently urging him to fuck himself against my
mouth.

“I’m close…oh fuck…”
I heard him, but that only prompted me to stroke him faster. I

wanted to feel him come around me, I wanted him to fill my hand
with his spunk. My fingers dug into his hip and I pressed forward,
my tongue sliding in and out of his wet passage.

The muscles quivered beneath my grip. With each stroke, they

got stronger, harder, his breathing louder and more broken. He
choked at one point and grew silent, but then I felt the vein in his
cock pulse, the shaft feel like it thickened. In the next breath,
Aaron arched away from the bed, his shout ringing in my ears. The
first blast of come hit my sheets, and I quickly slid my hand to the
tip to catch the rest.

I waited until his cock stopped jerking to pull my cupped hand

away, bringing it up to my mouth so I could taste the thin strands
of come coating my fingers. The first hint of the warm, salty
bitterness exploded against my tongue, and I resolved right then
that the next time Aaron orgasmed, it would be with my mouth
around his cock. I slid my fingers against his hole, spreading his
own come over his clenching muscle. When he was slick enough, I
pushed one finger in, letting it sink into the welcoming heat. Aaron
keened, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his climax.

“Now, now,” he panted. If he hadn’t been so wracked from his

orgasm, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he threw me down and
just decided to ride me on his own. As it was, he could barely keep

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himself up on his hands and knees, gulping for air, shaking like a
leaf caught in a storm. His head turned, and our eyes met.
Understanding passed between us. Some things could never be
unlearned, even after self-imposed celibacy. Aaron smiled.
“Please, Peter.”

“Okay, now,” I agreed, though I couldn’t resist rotating my

wrist and curling my finger just enough to slide over his prostate.
He went rigid, his spine bowing until I relented. He collapsed, all
but whimpering while he waited for me to slide the condom on and
slick my shaft. I knelt behind him, guiding my cock forward until
his hot flesh just squeezed around the tip. My hesitation was
apparently too much for him to bear because he pushed back,
forcing the entire crown past his ring. I gripped his hip to steady
him and eased forward, both of us groaning as I gained inch after
inch.

I had to stop when I was fully sheathed. My thighs were

shaking, and my chest was tight, my eyes bleary as I fought not to
come. I still couldn’t really believe it was Aaron on his knees in
front of me, that once he’d got past his nerves he’d practically
begged me to fuck him. I might not be able to see his face, but this
position did nothing to diminish his beauty. The strong lines of his
back rippled and tensed as he waited for me to move. His strong
profile kept coming in and out of view as he half-turned to see
what I was doing. The tight globes of his ass flexed as he adjusted
to being full. I ran my hand down his flank, then remembered what
he’d said about having a thing for them.

To test it, my hand reversed direction, sliding up his side, then

down his arm until I was folded over his body, bracing my weight
on the palm I rested next to his.

His head tilted, his gaze fixating on my fingers. Slowly, he

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edged his hand sideways and caught my wrist. I had to rebalance
myself when he tugged it upward, but I let him guide it to his
mouth, holding my breath as he licked the taste of his come off of
my skin.

I shuddered at each slow caress. I had absolutely no idea there

were so many sensitive points on my palm. Every time his tongue
fluttered over my skin, it sent a jolt directly to my groin, and my
cock jerked against his tight walls. I held myself still for as long as
I could, until he was twisting beneath me and my control began to
slip. He held my hand closer to his mouth, teeth sinking into the
tender skin while I thrust into him.

We were both too far gone for taking this easy. He wanted to

be fucked, and I needed the release of pounding into him. Our slick
bodies slid against each other perfectly, my longer limbs molding
around his powerful build like bars on a cage, but I don’t think he
felt trapped. If anything, he seemed freer than he’d ever been
clothed, slamming back to meet each of my drives forward,
endlessly worshipping my fingers and palm. The question
was…which one was the real Aaron?

I kissed at his neck and mouthed the shell of his ear, my tongue

tracing its shape before I moved lower to suck on the tendons
beneath the lobe. I didn’t want to stop tasting him, but I needed to
change the angle. I needed more. I straightened, my hands going to
his hips to hold him in place as I quickened my pace, drilling into
his ass. I stared at his back, at the damp hair sticking to his nape, at
the muscles bunching and shifting each time he pushed back. His
fingers clawed into the sheet, and he dropped his face to the pillow,
completely submitting to the pleasure.

The look of bliss on his face undid me. A shiver raced down

my spine and ignited, exploding with white-hot intensity. I

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100

slammed forward one final time, my hips stuttering against his
rounded cheeks. He moaned and started to rock, clenching his
muscles and squeezing every inch of pleasure from me, his body
milking mine of everything, including my strength.

When my body began to sag, Aaron reached back and grabbed

my hip, holding me inside him for a few seconds more. His cheek
slid against the pillow so he could better look back at me, and a
smile curved his soft mouth.

“All those years of celibacy just might’ve been worth it if this

is my reward,” he said.

I leaned over him and kissed him. Or tried to. The angle wasn’t

great until he rose up to meet me, his tongue sliding between my
lips. He loosened his hold and let me fall to my side, our mouths
separating long enough for me to settle on the mattress.

“I have a satisfaction guaranteed policy,” I said between slow

kisses.

“As long as there’s room among your buddies for me.” He

nuzzled into my neck, licking away the sweat that dampened my
skin. “How you have any free time at all, I’ll never understand.”

My buddies. Like I had some sort of regular rotation and I just

needed to slot him into the schedule. Like I would even see
anybody else while we were sleeping together. I didn’t know
anybody who could hold a candle to Aaron.

“It’s called multitasking,” I said as lightly as I could.
His head flopped down onto his bent arm. When he smiled at

me, my stomach flipped. I could get used to this version of him.
All too easily.

“We’re not done tasking for the day, though, right?”
“We’re absolutely not done tasking for the day. What time is

your curfew?”

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101

“I told Sam I had a lunch meeting for work. I’ve got the sitter

until two.”

“That gives us two hours.” I gripped his cock, squeezing until

he was fully erect again. “We better make the most of them.”

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102

CHAPTER 8

If I could have punched something, I would have. The morning

QA meeting I’d set up with the engineers had stretched past lunch,
then gobbled up all of my afternoon because not one person
seemed to give a damn whether or not we actually delivered on
time except for me. That didn’t stop them from whining about
coffee runs, though. Or complaining that I was being too strict. Or
sexting beneath the conference table when they thought I wasn’t
paying attention.

It didn’t stop me from reminding them who was signing their

paychecks, either. Or that in this current economy, each and every
one of them was expendable. Or keeping them well past five
o’clock so they’d be stuck in the worst traffic possible for their
rides home.

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103

The one downside to that was it kept me there, too. I wasn’t

worried about Sam. I’d already hired a sitter for him for the night.
It was the night I’d planned with Peter that was now in the process
of getting derailed. This would make our third meet-up without the
boys. With Morgan’s arrival this weekend, I didn’t want to lose out
on the opportunity while we had one.

When my stomach growled as we were packing up, I stepped

into the hall and called him. “I’m running late, and I haven’t had
anything but bottled water and Tic Tacs since ten o’clock last
night. Would you mind meeting me at Tony’s so I can grab a bite
to eat before we head over to your place? I’m going to call ahead
and have a pizza ready for when I get there.”

“We could have it delivered, if you want.”
“You and me and privacy when I haven’t seen you all week?

I’ll forget about the food and then pass out from hunger in the
middle of the good stuff.” My tone turned wheedling. “I’ll eat fast.
I promise.”

Peter laughed. “No, you don’t have to rush through your

dinner. I’ll meet you there. Twenty minutes sound about right?”

“Yeah, but if you beat me there, make sure and save me at least

half the pizza, or I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

I disconnected feeling lighter than I’d been since noon, and

raced through the rest of packing up. My foot might have been a
little heavy on the accelerator as I zipped through town to get to
Tony’s, but I didn’t get stopped and I made it to the restaurant in
twenty-two minutes flat. Peter’s car was already in the lot. I had a
smile on my face the second I saw him sitting in the corner booth.

“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” I said as I slid in

opposite him.

Peter poured a pint of beer from the nearly full pitcher in front

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104

of him and slid it across the table. “Here, drink this and then you
can tell me all about it.”

God bless him for remembering to order my favorite. His wet

fingertips grazed over mine as I took the glass from him, and the
heat that ran through me a moment later was as much from him as
it was from the beer.

“I work with idiots.” My tongue chased a loose drop that

tickled at the corner of my lips. “The meeting I only just walked
out of? Was supposed to end by ten this morning.”

Peter clucked his tongue sympathetically. “That sucks. But

didn’t you hire them?”

I scowled. “Shut up.”
“I have the feeling your management style couldn’t be

described as warm and cuddly.”

“I’m not their mother. It’s not my job to coddle them.”
Peter drank from his glass and licked his lips, drawing my

attention to his pink lips. I forgot all about being annoyed when he
did that. “Are we on for the park on Sunday?”

“Yeah, Sam’s been talking about it all week.” I drained the rest

of my beer and reached for the pitcher. Already, my muscles were
starting to loosen, the heat spreading from the pit of my stomach
outward. “I’m sorry about bitching. It’s just I’ve been biting my
tongue all day.”

“No, don’t apologize. I don’t mind listening to you bitch.

Everybody needs to unload occasionally.”

“You never do.” In all the time we’d spent together—though

granted, after finding out he was gay, we hadn’t spent a lot of that
time talking—he’d remained his cheerful, optimistic self. With the
exception of that first Friday he’d spent at my house. But
according to Peter, that was the exception not the rule, and he’d

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105

proven it in all the time since. “What about you? How was your
day?”

Peter’s smile widened. “I had a great day. My coworkers are

lovely people who never have any reason to bug me. After work, I
went grocery shopping to make sure I had all of Morgan’s
favorites. And then when I was about to heat up a frozen dinner, I
got a surprise and welcome invitation out to dinner.”

“I don’t know if I should be annoyed because of your work

environment, or glad you were happy about coming out to dinner
with me.”

“Be happy. You’re more attractive when you’re smiling.”
It was impossible not to grin at that. “I thought I was attractive

all the time.”

“Oh, you are. But you’re at your most attractive when you’re

not scowling.” Peter tilted his head. “Or maybe it’s when you’re on
your knees.”

My eyes widened at his direct comment, heat flaming in my

face. I looked around quickly to see who might be listening, only
to come back and meet his amused gaze. I leaned forward and
whispered, “What happened to being discreet?”

“I didn’t exactly shout it,” Peter said in a mock whisper.

“But…sorry. I won’t joke like that.”

He meant it, too. I could see it in his face. I felt a little

ridiculous for overreacting so strongly, but we hadn’t spent any
time in public since we’d started fucking. I hadn’t actually
expected to hear him talk like he did when it was just the two of us.

“No, no, that’s all right.” I glanced around again, double-

checking our privacy. “Though it is kind of hot.”

“So are you when you’re touching yourself and you’ve got

your mouth wrapped around…well, I guess I’ll have to finish that

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106

thought when we’re somewhere more private.”

It wasn’t just my face that felt like it was on fire now. My skin

everywhere burned, and my cock ached where it hardened
awkwardly against my thigh. I wanted to show him just how hot it
could be to do exactly as he described, but the waitress decided
that was the point to show up in the corner of my eye with our
pizza in hand.

I sat back as she set it between us, smiling up at her as she

asked about Sam. “He’s good. He’ll be pissed at me when he finds
out I had pizza for dinner and he’s stuck with the leftovers I told
the babysitter to heat up for him.” When she laughed, I nodded
toward Peter. “I don’t think you two have met, have you?”

“No.” He extended his hand to her. “I’m Peter. I’m probably

going to be a regular around here from now on.”

“Sandy. It’s good to meet you.”
Her appreciative gaze lingered for a moment on Peter, and my

stomach twisted. I’d never really noticed how other people looked
at him until now. I’d always thought he was cute, and I knew at
least some of the moms at the park had to think so, but I couldn’t
remember ever witnessing it before. I wasn’t sure I liked it.

“You can count on him being a regular,” I said, drawing her

attention back to me. “The man has a fridge full of frozen dinners.
I have to make sure he gets some decent food in him at least once
in a while.”

“The pizza is great, but I don’t know if it counts as decent food,

Aaron. Nothing with this much delicious cheese on it could
possibly be good for you.”

“There are vegetables,” Sandy pointed out. “Fruit, too, if you

like pineapples.”

“I’ve never been a fan. Too sweet for me on pizza.”

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107

“I’ll keep that in mind. Since I’m going to be seeing more of

you.”

“And you can always work it off.” The tablecloth hid our lower

halves, so, feeling bold, I stretched my leg beneath the booth to
nudge at his knee. “I’m sure Morgan runs you ragged enough when
he’s here.”

“You mean the boy who’d like nothing more than to play on

the computer all day every day? No, not really. But I can think of a
few other ways to work off the calories.”

“You two want a refill on that pitcher?” Sandy asked.
I shook my head. “We’re good for now. Thanks, Sandy.” I

didn’t move even after she left, too curious about what Peter would
do or say.

“You know, introducing me to the waitress who knows you by

the name at your regular pizza place isn’t exactly being discreet,
either,” Peter observed, sprinkling red pepper flakes over his slice.

My head swiveled back to look to Sandy, but she was busy

with someone else’s order now, not paying us any attention at all.
“But you’re my friend. Why wouldn’t I introduce my friend?”
Jesus, was I really this far out of the loop?

Peter shrugged. “It’s just, now she is more likely to remember

my face, and if we come here again…though I’m not saying we
necessarily will. Just that she may notice.”

There was no may about it. Sandy had a crack memory, and

Peter was too cute not to remember. I settled back, absently pulling
an extra cheesy slice onto my plate. “She’ll probably ask you out
the next time we come in.”

Peter chuckled. “Not if she thinks I’m dating you. Which was

my point here.”

“But why would she think that? Are we being that obvious?”

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“No. And why on earth would you think she’d ask me out

anyway?”

“Because you’re cute and she’s available. Plus, she likes dads.

I’ve never figured out why.”

“Yeah, Aaron, she probably doesn’t like dads in general. She

probably likes you.”

I knew where he was going with this, and sure, Sandy had

asked me out once or twice, but I still believed she’d notice Peter.
And it annoyed me that he was—yet again—downplaying his
appeal.

Ignoring my pizza, I leaned forward. “She’d like you, too.

Because whether you want to believe me or not, you’re hot as hell,
and people notice that.”

“Thank you for pointing out repeatedly that I’m attractive. I

appreciate the compliment. But for her sake, I hope you’re wrong,
and she’s at least got her sights set on the one who likes girls.”

“What do you usually do when women hit on you?” Because I

knew they did. They had to.

“Ignore it. Usually that’s enough of a hint. A few times, the

woman has been pushy enough that I just had to tell her I was gay.
You know, very flattered but I have a boyfriend or something like
that.”

My stomach growled. It was a little pissed I still hadn’t put

anything in it.

“Well, at least I know I don’t have to worry about sharing you

with her.” I shot him a smile as I dug into my pizza, hoping that
would get us back to our earlier flirtation.

“You shouldn’t worry about sharing me with anybody.”
Of course not. I knew that. That was why we were keeping it

casual, and if I didn’t like it when someone noticed him—

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rightfully so—that was my problem, not his. He had a whole life
outside of our play dates, and the last thing I would do was infringe
on that. I needed to appreciate what I had, especially since he’d
managed to distract me from my crappy day in record time.

“How’s the pizza?”
“Great. You feel better now that you’ve had something to eat?”
“And seen you,” I answered truthfully. He deserved to know he

had much of the credit.

Peter smiled. “Have you thought about what you might want

for dessert?”

Saying him would be trite, no matter how much I meant it.

Besides, he kept distracting me with the way he sucked the gooey
strands of cheese off of his fingers. How did he expect me to think
straight when he did that?

“We don’t have to stick around for dessert if you don’t want

to.”

“I was actually thinking we could stop at the store and get some

ice cream and chocolate sauce.”

I stopped in mid-chew. The sudden image of licking ice cream

off Peter’s bare chest, catching stray drops that would trail down to
his hard cock…I stopped thinking about food and about how long
it would take us to get out of there.

I choked down the half-eaten bite. “We could do that.”
Peter licked his lips. “Maybe some whipped cream, too.”
He’d missed a spot of pizza sauce on his upper lip. If we’d

been at home, I would have leaned over and licked it off. Hell, I
was half ready to do it right there in public. My mouth watered,
and my imagination had gone into overdrive at his suggestion. A
dangerous combination. Very dangerous.

“Those should be permanent items on our grocery lists.” I

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wanted to kick myself. My attempt to find my footing in this
flirtation was piss-poor at best.

Peter apparently wasn’t fazed by my clumsy attempt. “Well,

you already know I keep my freezer well-stocked.”

“The only thing I don’t like about that plan is how long it’ll

take to execute it.”

“Then stop talking and start eating,” Peter teased. “You know

the rules. No dessert if you don’t finish your dinner.”

My jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m serious. You think you’re above the rules?”
“I think I know when I’m prepared to break them.”
“I don’t believe for one second that you’re a rule-breaker.”
I wasn’t sure which annoyed me more—the fact that Peter

believed that, or the fact that he was probably right. “I could be,” I
asserted. “Under the right circumstances.”

“Really? Tell me about one time you broke the rules.”
He looked so damn sure of himself, I spoke without even

thinking about what I was admitting to. “College. My wrestling
coach. Sophomore year, we were out shopping for gear for the
team, and we ended up fucking in the dressing rooms.”

“You’re making that up.”
“Why? You thought I was straight, too, and look how wrong

you were about that.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow. “Well, I didn’t mean any offense. I

guess you were just more spontaneous back then.”

“Isn’t everybody more spontaneous in college?”
“Yeah, but there’s nothing saying you have to limit it to

college.”

I cocked my brow. “Yes, there is. His name is Sam.”
Peter’s foot nudged mine. “Sam’s not here now.”

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What had started out as a teasing need to keep my pride intact

had spiraled beyond anything I might have anticipated. This was
my favorite pizza place. He’d just met my favorite waitress. And
here he was, playing footsie and practically daring me to prove my
claims.

Worse, my cock wanted desperately to show him exactly how

many rules I’d broken with Coach Reid. Fucking in public had
been one of the tamer ones. The man had been the best at pushing
all my buttons. At least, until Peter came along.

I angled my foot toward Peter’s, strengthening the contact. “I

should be pissed you think I’ve got such a stick up my ass.”

“If I mentioned something else you could have up your ass,

would you kick me for being indiscreet?”

I’ll admit it. I clenched at his blunt words. “That depends. I

can’t really kick you if I’ve got my legs wrapped around you, now
can I?”

“I’m not going to goad you into meeting me in the bathroom,

but only because I don’t want to get you kicked out of your
favorite restaurant.”

Oh, no, he wasn’t getting off that easy. Not after getting me so

worked up. “And if I could guarantee we wouldn’t get kicked
out?”

“How could you guarantee that?”
I grinned. He needed to learn how to trust me more.
After a quick glance around to see where Sandy was, I reached

for Peter’s glass. Instead of grabbing it, though, I pushed it over,
and the last inch or so of beer splattered across the front of his T-
shirt.

“Oh, shit.” I said it loud enough to draw Sandy’s attention,

grabbing for as many napkins as I could reach. “I’m so sorry. I’m

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telling you, it’s this crappy day I’m having. Everything’s going
wrong.”

Just as I expected, Sandy appeared at the side of the table. “I’ll

get some more napkins,” she said.

I slid out of the booth and grabbed her arm before she could go.

“I’m going to run out to my car and grab a spare shirt from my
gym bag so he doesn’t have to sit there smelling like beer. Do you
mind if he uses the employee bathroom to change? I know Sam’s
not here, but…” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Peter hates
public bathrooms.”

“Sure, sure, go ahead,” she said.
I gave her a wide smile. “You’re a doll, Sandy. Thanks.” I

headed for the front door. “I’ll just let myself in the back to get it
to him. So I don’t get in anybody’s way in the kitchen.”

The last thing I saw before I walked out was Peter wiping at his

shirt and staring after me. Being a regular had its perks, not the
least of which was complete familiarity with the employee
restroom. The first time Sam had an attack in the restaurant, Sandy
had ushered us back for extra privacy. From that point on, that was
the only bathroom we used. I couldn’t even tell Peter what the
public one looked like.

I moved as fast as I could without looking too anxious, getting

my gym bag from my trunk, then jogging around the side of the
building to get to the employee’s entrance. Their bathroom was at
the very back, behind the kitchen and office. Nobody would hear
us back there. The door was shut when I reached it, and though I
knew Peter had to be the one inside, I knocked anyway.

Peter opened the door, grabbed me by the hand and pulled me

inside. “You’re clearly a nut,” he said, before claiming my mouth
in a hard kiss, his other hand slamming the door shut behind me.

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He pushed me against the cool metal, his erection nudging my hip
as his tongue swept into my mouth.

Dropping the gym bag, I pushed my hands down the back of

his jeans, uncaring of the way the denim scraped across my skin.
All I wanted was the feel of him, the heat of his flesh burning into
mine. He didn’t disappoint. He must’ve been as turned on as I was
at the table, because his body was as hot as it was when we were at
the height of fucking in his bed. I squeezed his ass cheeks and got
a grind against my groin in reward.

“As long as you’re ready to pound into me, I’ll be anything you

want,” I said between kisses.

“Almost. Wait.” Peter tore his mouth away and I felt him

fumbling for his wallet while I kneaded his ass and attacked his
jaw and throat, kissing every inch of skin I could reach. Peter
moaned and tilted his head back, trying to pull the condom from
the leather fold despite my merciless assault. “I wish I had the
foresight to bring some Astroglide or something.”

“Make it up to me later.” I bit at his neck, lapping away the salt

I found on his skin. “Besides. This way, I’ll feel you for the next
week.”

Peter managed to extract the condom and let his wallet drop to

the floor without a second glance. He held the foil between his
teeth and pushed his hand between our bodies, fingering my zipper
until he finally got a good grip and pulled it open. His fingers were
hot and damp and perfect when they wrapped around my shaft.
One good stroke, and I was leaking pre-come all over his palm. He
managed to yank my pants down without releasing my cock or
pulling away from my hungry mouth.

“You could help me out a little here, you know.”
My head felt like it was floating as I grinned at him. “Haven’t I

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done enough already to get us this chance?”

But I toed off my shoes as I spoke anyway, freeing my feet so I

could kick my pants off, too. My bare ass pressed against the cold
door, but the chill was welcome. My skin felt like it was going to
sear away, and he hadn’t even gone anywhere near my hole yet.

I plucked the condom out of his hand while he unbuckled his

pants, tearing it open with barely restrained eagerness. I was a man
with a mission, completely focused on the task at hand until Peter
pushed two of his fingers against the corner of my mouth. I parted
my lips for him, tasting my own arousal, and beneath that, the
slightly sweet hint of tomato sauce. He pumped his wrist, fucking
my mouth until his fingers were good and slick. I parted my legs in
anticipation as he pulled his hand free, my ass clenching rapidly.
He reached around me, fingers sliding between my cheeks until he
reached my pucker.

He pushed in without waiting, and I bit my lip to keep from

crying out the way I wanted. I was too tight, and we were both too
impatient to take our time to loosen me up much. I’d feel every
inch of his glorious cock when it went in.

How the hell was I going to keep from screaming when that

happened? Whose brilliant idea was this to do it somewhere I
couldn’t let it all out?

I propped my foot up on the side of the sink to make it easier

for him, but that just made me wish I really could wrap my legs
around his waist. He might be taller than me, but I had a good
thirty pounds on him. I had to ask, though.

Licking my way to his ear, I struggled to catch my breath.

“How strong are you feeling tonight?”

Peter huffed out a laugh. “Strong enough, but if we end up in

an undignified pile of broken bones on the floor, you’re the one

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explaining it to the cops.”

In that moment, with this man, I was prepared to take the risk.

Bracing myself between the sink and the door, I lifted my other leg
and wrapped it around Peter’s waist. Like I’d expected, it opened
my ass up more for him, but at the same time, pressed him even
harder against my hungry flesh.

He had to grasp a cheek in each hand to keep our balance, so I

returned the favor by angling his cock between my thighs. The
covered tip nudged behind my balls, bumping almost awkwardly
along until it found the slight dip of my hole.

I pulled my hand away. “Rest is up to you.”
“God, you’re crazy. You make me crazy.” Peter pushed his

hips until the tip of his cock cleared the muscle. I immediately
clenched down around him, biting my tongue to keep from crying
out. He stilled, giving me time to adjust to his width, the burn
already working its way down the back of my thighs. Peter pressed
his lips to mine, his tongue invading my mouth as he moved his
hips again. It almost felt like he was tearing me open, but I didn’t
care. I craved more, knowing the ache under my skin wouldn’t be
satisfied until he was fully seated. His fingers flexed on my ass,
and he took a half-step back, letting gravity and my weight finish
the job.

Kissing was the best way to keep me quiet, though my entire

body shook as he filled me up. I was going to combust. No two
ways about it. The base of my spine ached, radiating outward to
the tips of my fingers and toes. I’d been right. I’d feel this for days.
There’d probably be a moment or two where I’d be sore enough to
wish I hadn’t been so impetuous.

This was not one of them. Because soon enough, the burn

ebbed into a rolling simmer, my body ready—hungry—for more.

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I clenched around his length once, and then relaxed. “I’ve

wanted you to tear into me since I talked to you on the phone,” I
managed in spite of our bruising kisses. “Don’t make me wait.”

Peter swore under his breath and rolled his hips. I bit out a plea

for “more” just before he jerked his hips in a harder thrust. My
shoulders hit the door, probably hard enough for people to hear,
but before I could even process that concern, he was moving again.
My legs tightened around him, my fingers digging into his
shoulders as he set a hard, sharp rhythm. His mouth barely muffled
my moans, and I felt more than a little light-headed from the lack
of oxygen.

Neither one of us had touched my cock since I’d climbed on. I

was too busy grappling for purchase, and he was too busy making
sure he didn’t drop me, not to mention pistoning in and out of my
ass at ever quickening speeds. The way we were going, I didn’t
think it would be necessary, though I would’ve loved to feel his
fingers curled around my shaft. He scraped across my prostate with
each stroke. I don’t know how or why, but he managed to stimulate
it each and every time we fucked. It was like his cock was
specifically made for my ass, or he had some sixth sense about the
perfect angle to take to make sure he hit it, or something along
those lines. I’d stopped questioning it. No reason to overanalyze
what turned our time together into the hottest experiences of my
life.

But I thought about it. I thought about how his hand looked

when he jerked me off. I always watched, or at least, I always tried
to watch. I loved how his pale, perfect skin looked against mine
when it was all blood-pinked and hot. And then when he caught
my come on his fingers and licked them clean? Holy fuck. Hottest.
Thing. Ever.

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The way it was turning out, Peter was the hottest thing I’d ever

had in my life.

We couldn’t stay like that for long. I knew Sandy would notice

our absence, and she or somebody else could knock on the door at
any second. The thought that had they could catch us at any
second, that everybody in the kitchen knew exactly what we were
doing, should have filled me with dread. But instead, hot jolts shot
down my spine to my cock, making it jerk with every hard thrust
forward. My balls were pulled up tight, my blood rushing in my
ears, and my ass clenched every time he filled me.

“Christ, Aaron…you feel so good…I’m so close…so…” He

buried himself one more time, his body shuddering against mine,
his teeth biting into my lip to stop his shout.

The reverberations of his muffled voice shook through me and

stole what little breath I had left. More than that, though, they
triggered my own release, my skin electrified by his desperate
hold, his hard flesh shaking as he struggled not to drop me. I
tightened my embrace. My come smeared across his stomach, and
my legs ached, but none of it mattered, not as long as Peter didn’t
stop kissing me, not as long as he made me feel like I was flying
higher than the clouds.

Our kisses slowed, then stopped. Peter licked over where he’d

bit, and I pretended to bite back when he pulled away. We smiled
at each other at the same time.

“Still think I’m a nut?” I asked.
“There’s no doubt in my mind. And…I’ve got to put you down

now.”

I chuckled as I loosened my legs, sliding down his body until

my feet hit the floor. My knees were watery, but all the tension that
had been threading through me from my shitty day was gone. In

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fact, I felt great. Better than great. I felt fantastic. All because of
Peter.

“Get dressed.” I scooped up my pants. “I’ll go have Sandy box

up the rest of the pizza. We’ll finish it at your place.”

Peter refastened his pants and pulled the T-shirt out of my

duffle. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I caught him sniffing it
before he shrugged it on and shoved his beer and come stained
shirt into the bottom of the bag.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Peter said, pausing to kiss me

before opening the door a crack. He looked both ways before
slipping out, my T-shirt almost completely engulfing him.

I checked out my appearance in the mirror before walking out

myself. My cheeks were red, my eyes bright, and my shirt was
wrinkled where Peter had shoved it up and out of the way. My hair
stuck up at odd angles in the back, too. I looked well and truly
fucked.

There was something else, too. It took me a second to put my

finger on it.

I looked happy.
Huh.
My smile widened as that sank in. Whistling under my breath, I

headed back to the restaurant floor, to Sandy and our pizza, and
most importantly, to Peter and the rest of our night.

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CHAPTER 9

“I’m going to take my new DS to show Sammy!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Why not? I want to show him. He told me he wanted one, too.

I can let him play with it.”

“No. You’re not going to the park to play video games.” I

wanted to snatch it away from him. What the hell had Christina
been thinking, buying him that thing? It was hard enough to keep
Morgan focused on the real world without the joys of portable
gaming. I could almost believe she’d done it on purpose just to piss
me off. “What about your car?”

“The car? But I think Sammy will like the DS more.”
“The next time Sammy comes over here for a play date, you

can show him, all right?”

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Morgan didn’t have the patience for a protracted argument,

fortunately for me. He knew Sammy was waiting for us in the
park, and it’d been far too long since he’d seen his friend to get
distracted by a power struggle. He ran back into his room,
shoelaces flying out behind him despite the fact I’d already asked
him twice to tie his shoes. I was just as eager to get out of the
house, but I hoped I was slightly less obvious about it. I couldn’t
touch Aaron, or look at him like he was the brightest spot in my
world with the exception of Morgan, or kiss his brilliant smile. I
couldn’t even tease him like I had at the restaurant, or say anything
that might make Aaron uncomfortable or make the kids curious.

So basically, the play date at the park would be equal parts

heaven and hell. At least Morgan would have a good time.

Morgan emerged from his room with his new remote-

controlled car—another surprise gift from his mother—and,
miracle of miracles, his shoes tied. He surprised me by throwing
his arms around my legs in a quick hug.

“Well, what’s this?” I asked, ruffling his hair.
“I’m just happy.”
My heart clenched at that, and it was all I could do not to

sweep him up off the floor and squeeze him as hard as I could. I
settled for tousling his hair again. “I am, too. Come on, we don’t
want to be late.”

Morgan didn’t so much walk as he did hop, jump, and even

skip. When I picked him up the night before, I asked if he had a
good time with his cousins, but all he could do was talk about Sam.
He asked me three times if I was sure Sam would be at the park the
next day, only looking slightly soothed when I promised him that
Mr. Hardison wouldn’t forget about the meeting in the past two
weeks. It was obvious that the two weeks had passed slowly for

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Morgan, and I felt more than a twinge of guilt at how fast the days
had gone by. Nothing could distract me from how much I missed
him, but thinking of Aaron, being with Aaron, touching Aaron,
sure made the time fly.

Aaron and Sam stood near the entrance of the park when we

rounded the corner, and I didn’t try to stop Morgan from racing
down the sidewalk. How could I when I wanted to run into
Aaron’s arm with the same level of exuberance?

The boys had taken off by the time I reached Aaron’s side. “If

you had been two more minutes, Sam and I would’ve been in my
car, headed to your apartment,” he said. “He’s a little excited about
today.”

“Yeah, to hear Morgan tell it, two weeks may as well be two

hundred years. Oh, just so you know, Sam will probably be asking
for a new DS soon.”

Aaron frowned. “Your ex bought him a new DS? I thought you

told him no when he asked you for it before.”

“I did. I don’t know if she was purposefully being a jerk or

what. I haven’t talked to her about it yet. I’m not sure if it’s worth
making a big deal over.”

“But it is a big deal. He’s going to end up learning that he can

get whatever he wants, just by asking both of you.” He turned back
to watch where the boys sat hunched over Morgan’s car. “You
should call her. What you say is just as important as what she does.
She needs to remember that.”

It made such perfect sense when he said it, but then, he wasn’t

the one who was gearing up for a fight. The sun reflected off his
golden hair, and the sight temporarily wiped my mind free of
everything that wasn’t Aaron. Did I really have to wait two weeks
to be with him again? I could get a sitter for Morgan…no, I

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wouldn’t do that. I could wait two weeks. I could. God knows I’d
survived longer dry spells.

“No, you’re right. I should call her. Who knows what he’ll

come back with next time if I don’t.”

“Did you have plans for Morgan next weekend?”
“Nope. Would you like to make some?”
“Sam asked me if he could invite Morgan over for a

sleepover.” Aaron kept his gaze on the boys, but his voice had
lowered, encouraging a more private topic. “I told him it wasn’t
fair to take away time from you.”

I swallowed to wet my suddenly dry throat. Aaron wasn’t

inviting me to stay the night in his house, was he? That was both
the best and worst idea I’d ever heard. “I could forgive a night if it
made the boys happy. But it might not be fair to make you wrangle
both of them by yourself.”

“It wouldn’t be fair for you to lose one of the few nights you

get with him.” He paused. “If you wanted to come over, too, that
would be okay.”

“I would like to. But…do you think that’d be a good idea,

really?”

“No.” Well, at least he was honest. “I think it’s inviting

disaster. But then I think that if I can be so careful about Sam and
all his issues, I can be careful about this.”

It wasn’t just a matter of being careful. This would be pure,

masochistic torture. But on the other hand, even if we just stayed
up late, watched old movies, and eventually passed out in front of
the television without touching each other once, it would be worth
it. Being with Aaron while the boys stayed up far too late,
checking in on them once they passed out, basking in Aaron’s
attention all night—I wanted that with a ferocity that shocked me.

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“Okay. We’ll bring over dinner and some DVDs.”
For a split second, an unabashed smile lit Aaron up. I hadn’t

been joking around at the pizza place. He was attractive in every
incarnation, but when he smiled…he was almost a different
person. The weight that always seemed to press upon his shoulders
disappeared, and his eyes became brighter. I could see myself
doing anything for him when he looked like that, though the more
time we spent together, the more I felt like that no matter what he
was doing.

“Sam’ll be glad to hear it,” he said. “I didn’t tell him I was

going to talk to you about it.”

“Morgan will be excited, too.” God, this was going to be hard.

There would be minefields everywhere, little pockets of danger
just waiting to catch me unawares. But I had to prove that I could
get through it. I had to prove we really were just casual, friends
with benefits, and that I in no way wanted or hoped for more. The
problem was, I had never been a particularly good liar.

* * *

Morgan had packed for a sleepover before, but he apparently

forgot all about that. Or the thought of spending the entire night at
Sam’s house literally drove him crazy with excitement, and in his
frenzy he was incapable of telling the difference between
necessary items—a toothbrush, a change of underwear—and
unnecessary items. Like his bedding, every pair of jeans he owned,
and most inexplicably, his computer keyboard.

“I wish Sam went to my school,” Morgan said, while I helped

him repack his bag.

“I know. But you still get to see him plenty during the week

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and the weekends.”

“I don’t get to see him when I’m with Mom. Do you think we

could have a play date then?”

“Well, we’ll have to talk to Mr. Hardison about that. But your

mother doesn’t live far from the park, so maybe.”

“Do you think Sam will ever have a mom again?”
“I…what do you mean?”
“Well, he doesn’t have one. Do you think Mr. Hardison will get

married again? Sam needs a mother.”

“I don’t know if he’ll ever get married again. That’s very

private, so it’s not any of our business.”

Not that I didn’t wonder about it from time to time if a part of

him was looking for another woman. I didn’t know too many
bisexual men, to be honest, and Aaron had clearly been in love
with his wife. I had the feeling that if she’d lived, Aaron wouldn’t
have found himself growing farther and farther from her as he
grappled with desires he couldn’t ignore for the rest of his life. He
probably would have remained happily married and faithful,
functionally straight. I could take some measure of comfort in that.
He was clearly just scratching an itch with me—an itch he’d
ignored for too long—but if he ever wanted more, an actual
relationship, he’d probably find a woman.

“And why do you think Sam needs a mother?” I asked, zipping

the duffle closed.

Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Did he say that to you?”
“He just seems sad sometimes, that’s all.”
“Does he ever talk about his mother?” I asked softly.
“Sometimes he mentions her.”
“What do you say when he mentions her?”

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“Nothing. I just keep playing.”
I nodded. Was Sam looking for somebody to talk to? Did

Aaron ever talk to Sam about his mother? Was it any of my
business at all? That was one major problem with letting the
boundaries in our relationship start to blur—everything started to
bleed together until it wasn’t clear what was appropriate and what
was not.

I was still thinking about it when we pulled up to Aaron’s

house. Morgan bounded out of the car without bothering to take his
stuff with him, leaving me to get his sleeping bag and backpack
out of the trunk, along with my own overnight bag. When I
slammed it shut, I turned to find the front door open, Aaron
standing on the threshold.

He wore baggy sweats and a faded T-shirt that had clearly been

around for more than a decade. His feet were bare, his stance
relaxed, and that damn smile was back to torture me. For a split
second, I felt like he was greeting me home after a long day’s
work.

This was such a bad, bad idea.
“Morgan’s already upstairs.” He reached for the sleeping bag,

and our fingers brushed as I passed it over. “I’ll run these up to
him. What’re we doing for dinner?”

“I thought a picnic theme would be good. I’ve got a few

different loaves of bread, deli meat, cheese, a veggie platter,
cookies for dessert, and juice boxes.”

“Sounds good. Why don’t you start getting it set up, and I’ll be

back in a sec to help?”

I nodded and felt a strange sense of vertigo as I carried the

groceries into the kitchen, like I was bringing home our food and
getting ready to feed our boys. It didn’t help that the kitchen was

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full of memories. It had only been a few weeks, but it already felt
like a lifetime since I warned Aaron that I wanted to kiss him. At
the same time, the memory was as fresh and new as something that
happened the night before.

By the time Aaron came back downstairs, I had already started

the sandwich assembly line. “Everything squared away up there?”

“As squared away as two boys who act like they haven’t seen

each other in a year rather than a week can get.” Opening a drawer,
he took out two knives and went around me to set them next to the
mayo and mustard. “I think Sam’s showing off everything he
owns.”

“That’ll keep them occupied until we have dinner done, at

least. Morgan asked me today if he could have a play date with
Sam while he was at Christina’s. Would you be willing to consider
that?”

“Sure, sure.” He moved around me effortlessly, going from

cupboard to cupboard, retrieving plates and trays, the spread
growing in front of me on the island. “It’ll be interesting to meet
your ex. Are you going to do the introductions, or are you going to
make me face her on my own?”

“On your own,” I said without hesitation. She knew me so well,

she’d probably see the hearts in my eyes every time I looked at
Aaron. I wasn’t very thrilled at the thought of the two of them
meeting at all, I didn’t want to be literally caught in the middle
when they did. Especially since I didn’t want to embarrass Aaron.
“I think it’d be better that way.”

“Well, I promise to be on my best behavior. It’ll be hard,

considering what you’ve told me, but you guys mean too much to
us to fuck it up.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t worry about fucking it up. Christina’s

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perfectly pleasant when she wants to be. You’ll probably get along
with her just fine.”

“Have you had a chance to talk to her about the DS yet?”
“Yeah, I emailed her. She claimed she didn’t know I had told

him no already, and his aunt bought it for him anyway.”

“Do you believe her?”
“The first thing is clearly a lie, because I absolutely told her

that I didn’t think we should get him one until he was a bit older.
The second part of her story is more believable. His cousins have
every single gaming console, portable or otherwise, known to
man.”

Aaron came back to my side, reaching in front of me to grab a

piece of cheese off the plate. When his arm brushed mine, he
hesitated, then withdrew like nothing had happened. I’d seen the
muscle jump in his forearm, though. I wasn’t the only one fighting
the heat between us. But knowing that didn’t actually help.

“Sam’s been pretty good about not pushing for his own yet. But

that’s probably more because I’ve had such a hard week with work
more than anything else. He’s good at picking up my moods.”

“So he’s good at picking his time, huh? That’s a skill Morgan

hasn’t quite developed yet.”

“Sometimes I think Sam’s better at it than I am.” He leaned

against the edge of the island. “What about your week? How did it
go?”

Good, except for the fact that I spent every waking hour

thinking of you, wishing I could call you, wondering if you were
thinking of me, and generally acting like a love-sick girl because
apparently, I can’t keep my feelings separated from sex. At least,
not when it comes to you.

Aaron wouldn’t want to hear any of that, so I smiled. “Good.

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It’s really nice to have Morgan back and everything back to
normal.”

“This weekend couldn’t come fast enough for me. Thinking

about tonight was the only thing that got me through some of it.”

I looked up from my turkey slices, trying to read Aaron’s face,

but his head was tilted down and there were no clues to discern.
“What about tonight were you looking forward to the most?”

“All of it. The chance to relax. Sam not chewing my ear off

about how excited he is about Morgan. Getting to hang out with
you.” He broke off another piece of cheese and stuck it in his
mouth, chewing slowly and still not looking at me. “But mostly
getting to hang out with you.”

“Even though we have to be on our best behavior?”
That drew his gaze, a genuine frown on his face. “Well, yeah.

We’re friends, too, right?”

Now probably wasn’t the right time to say that I didn’t know

what the hell we were anymore. I didn’t fuck my friends in
restaurant bathrooms, and I never casually hung out with any of
my fuck buddies. I didn’t get the warm-fuzzies at the promises of
sandwiches and crappy family movies with my friends, either. He
wasn’t my boyfriend, but I’d still feel like I was cheating on him if
I slept with somebody else, and Aaron already made himself
perfectly clear that he wouldn’t be my boyfriend. So what the hell
did that leave?

“Right, of course.”
The frown vanished. In some ways, he was so damn trusting.

Or I was a better liar than I thought I was. But he took me at face
value and reached across me again for another piece of cheese
before twisting away and heading for the kitchen door.

“Sam! Morgan! Time to eat!”

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They sounded more like a herd of elephants than two average-

sized children as they bellowed down the stairs, demonstrating far
more enthusiasm than cold sandwiches deserved.

“Can we take them upstairs?” Morgan asked while Sam quietly

climbed into his chair at the table.

“No. This is dinner, so you’ll eat at the table.”
“But you said it was like a picnic.”
“Mr. Hardison probably doesn’t want you tracking crumbs all

over his house or spilling juice on his carpet.”

“I wouldn’t spill my juice,” Morgan shot back indignantly.

“I’m not a baby.”

“It’s okay, Morgan.” Sam reached over and pushed the chair

next to him out. “It’ll be like a real family dinner if we all eat at the
table.” His eyes turned to Aaron. “Right, Dad?”

My heart pounded, and in spite of my better sense, my gaze

followed Sam’s. Aaron hadn’t even paused where he was starting
to assemble a sandwich for his son, though maybe the way he
wasn’t looking in Sam’s direction meant he was actually
uncomfortable about it? I don’t know. I didn’t know anything
anymore.

“We always have dinner at the table, Morgan,” he said. “And

Sam’s got the idea right. It’s not about the food. It’s about the
company. We sit down at the table, we have to focus on each other,
not just on what we’re eating. You want cheddar or Swiss this
time, Sam?”

“Cheddar, please.”
I never stopped watching Aaron, even when I passed Morgan’s

sandwich across the table. Aaron smiled as Sam thanked him for
cutting his sandwich in half, then looked up, catching my eye. A
brief flare of panic lit in my chest, but his smile never faded. I

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flushed with pleasure, quickly glancing away so he couldn’t see
the pink staining my face.

* * *

It was nice to watch television with Aaron after the boys went

to bed. It would have been even nicer if we were groping each
other on the couch, but I’d take what I could get. At the moment,
what I could get was a cup of cocoa, a Will Ferrell movie, and the
welcome sound of Aaron’s chuckles. Above us, the boys were
finally quiet, having worn themselves out playing X-Men, a game
that involved nothing more than racing back and forth until Aaron
finally hollered at them to calm down.

I could live like this. The knowledge didn’t come quickly like

an epiphany. It was more of a slow understanding, a realization
that I literally didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Even
knowing that I wouldn’t be following Aaron up to his bedroom, I
was perfectly happy.

I was just starting to doze when Morgan’s small voice pulled

me to attention. “Dad?”

“What?” I sat up, blinking against the glare from the television

to see Morgan in the entryway. Beside me, Aaron reached for the
remote, pausing the DVD. “What is it?”

“It’s Sam. He sounds funny. I don’t think he can breathe.”
Aaron shot out of his seat, faster than I’d ever seen him move. I

ran after him, but he took the stairs three at a time and reached the
upper landing before I hit the bottom riser.

“Sam!”
A door slammed open. By the time I got to Sam’s bedroom,

Morgan was right on my heels. Together, we saw Aaron kneeling

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on the floor next to Sam’s sleeping bag, fingers on the pulse in
Sam’s throat, his other hand shoving his Transformers pajama top
up and out of the way.

“I need you to breathe in, buddy.” Aaron’s hand slipped

beneath Sam’s head, supporting it, though his gaze seemed fixed
on Sam’s upper body. “Just once. Just try.”

The hoarse wheeze that came from Sam’s lungs chilled me to

the bone. It was one thing to know he had asthma. Hearing how
badly it could affect him was terrifying.

“Shit,” Aaron muttered. Yanking the shirt down, he scooped

Sam into his arms and rose to his feet. His bleak eyes met mine. “I
need to get him to the ER. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll drive. Morgan, grab your shoes and your blanket.”
Despite his fear for his friend, Morgan didn’t argue with me.

Fortunately, Aaron didn’t either, just hurried down the stairs, Sam
clenched tightly to his chest.

“Dad? Is Sam going to be okay?”
“He’s going to be fine,” I said, pitching my voice so Aaron

would hear me, too. “He just needs to see a doctor to help him
right now.”

Morgan got the door for Aaron, both the front one that I locked

behind us, and the backseat to my car. He slid in next to him, his
eyes wide and fixed on his friend. Aaron’s pale face filled my
rearview mirror when I slid behind the wheel. He was already on
the phone, talking so fast I could barely make out what he was
saying. His face was all I saw the entire ride to the hospital

I pulled up to the entrance, letting Aaron get out first. The

parking lot was mercifully empty, and I parked as quickly as I
could. I had to hold Morgan back from taking off without me.
When we walked through the sliding glass doors, Aaron stood at

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the triage desk, Sam cradled against his chest.

“Yes, he’s having retractions,” I heard him say. A buzzer rang

off to the side, and he moved toward it without hesitating. “It’s
about time.”

Morgan pulled at my arm. “Don’t we get to go in?”
Aaron paused in the doorway, his eyes meeting mine for a

moment before he looked down at Morgan. “I’ll come get you as
soon as they’ve got him stable. I promise.”

“We’ll be here,” I said, just before Aaron disappeared behind

the swinging doors.

Morgan’s grip tightened. “What’s going on?”
I hadn’t picked Morgan up in years, but he let me scoop him

off his feet and carry him to a nearby chair, where I settled him on
my lap. “Sam’s sick, but they’re going to use a special machine,
and then he’ll be able to breathe on his own.”

“Why can’t we go back there?”
“Because the doctors need room to work, and we might get in

the way. Now, I need you to be brave for Aaron, okay? Because
he’s scared right now, too.”

Morgan sank against my chest, his little face pinched. I wished

I could be in two places at once, comforting Morgan and
supporting Aaron. I tried to distract us both by talking about taking
a trip to the aquarium to make up for the trip Morgan missed. I was
describing the sharks when Aaron emerged, his shirt wrinkled and
his face pale.

“He’s stable?” I asked.
He nodded. “They’re going to leave him on the respirator until

the meds take full effect. Probably another hour or so, to be safe.
Morgan, you can come back and see him if you want, but he’s not
going to be able to talk, okay?”

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“Okay.”
Aaron held the door open for Morgan to come through, but

touched my wrist lightly as I stepped past him. “Thank you,” he
mouthed silently.

“Are you okay?” I asked under my breath.
His lips parted to answer, but then his gaze slid sideways to

where Morgan waited. He smiled at my son before turning back to
me. “Better that you’re here.”

We followed him silently through the antiseptic corridors. He

strode with the confidence that came from familiarity, and my
heart broke a little bit more for him. Of course, he was familiar
with the ER hallways. How many hours had he spent here? How
many visits? He’d talked about it, but it had never really hit home
until now. I wished I could promise him that he would never have
to do it again, but even if I could, he’d never believe me. This was
his and Sam’s life. No wonder he was protective of it.

When Morgan hesitated at Sam’s door, Aaron rested his hand

on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay. I was scared the first time
I had to go in, too.”

Morgan nodded. Together, we followed him inside.
Sam looked tiny in the hospital bed, though it didn’t help that

the machine they had him hooked up to was gigantic. Electronic
beeps underscored the sound of his breathing, but it didn’t sound as
bad as it had back at the house. The blue at the corners of Sam’s
mouth was gone, too. Still, it would’ve been wonderful if he hadn’t
been in the hospital at all.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Morgan whispered, visibly

distressed at the sight of the machine.

I squeezed his shoulder gently. “Yes. Go say hi, let him know

that you’re here.”

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Morgan shuffled to the bed, his eyes wide and pensive. He was

just tall enough to see over the side of the bed. “Sammy? Can you
hear me?”

Sam’s eyes fluttered open and he rolled his head to the side. As

Aaron said, the ventilator prevented him from speaking, but he still
tried to smile.

“Are you all right?”
Sam weakly lifted his hand, forming a circle with his thumb

and finger. He looked exhausted, but not afraid. My heart broke
again for him. I didn’t know how Aaron could handle this. If it
were Morgan in Sam’s place, I’d be losing my mind.

Though there was an empty chair in the room, Aaron didn’t sit.

He stood off to the side, well in view if Sam wanted to see him, but
giving Morgan and Sam as much privacy as he could. His eyes
never left Sam’s form. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but the
shadows under his eyes had deepened in the time since we’d
bounded up the stairs in his house.

While Morgan chattered to Sam about the computer game

they’d been playing earlier, I edged closer until I stood right next
to Aaron. Our shoulders brushed, and he let loose a ragged sigh.

“You forget.” His voice was low, not a whisper but low enough

for Morgan or Sam not to hear. “When everything is going so
good, and things seem normal, and then you’re back here like
you’d never left…you forget how bad the panic really is.”

I couldn’t say I know, because I couldn’t know just what Aaron

was going through. “But you didn’t let that panic get to you. You
kept your head. That’s more than I could have done.”

“I think you’d surprise yourself. When it’s your only kid…”

His voice faded. The slight clearing of his throat wasn’t loud, but it
managed to rattle through me anyway.

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“You should sit down,” I urged, touching his elbow, turning

my body slightly to block the contact from view. “That adrenaline
rush is going to wear off soon.”

His eyes finally flickered to me. “I should be okay until we get

home. He’s responding well, and Dr. Tabel’s on duty tonight. He
knows I can handle it once Sam’s stable, so we’ll be out of here in
an hour. Are you…you don’t mind driving us home, do you?”

“No, of course I don’t mind, but if we’re going to be here for

the next hour, then I’m going to insist you sit down.”

This time, instead of giving him the chance to argue with me, I

bodily nudged him to the chair. He might have tricked himself into
believing he was fine, but I didn’t miss the soft sigh of relief when
he finally sat. He still watched Sam intently, his attention not once
leaving the bed. And I realized this was why Aaron wouldn’t let
himself consider an actual relationship. I mean, I knew before, but
now I really understood it. Aaron didn’t have the time or the
emotional energy for something that required actual maintenance.

“I’ll tell Morgan we can reschedule the sleepover,” I added. “If

that’s all right.”

His gaze slid first to Morgan, then to me. “Do you think it

would scare him too much to stay at our house?”

“No, but it might be easier for you and Sam to get some rest if

you didn’t have company.”

“Sam’ll feel better if he wakes up in the morning and Morgan’s

there.” He paused. “And I’d do better if I wasn’t alone.”

I didn’t how much of that was actually true, or what exactly

Aaron wanted from me. He’d done this alone probably more times
than he cared to count, and he wasn’t inclined to spoil Sam—when
it came to questions of Sam’s health, there was no greater concern
than his wellbeing. This was a personal, family matter, and Aaron

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didn’t seem to think anything of our presence—of my presence.
The already unclear boundaries were weakened further by his
request, but what could I do?

“Then we’ll stay. But I won’t take it personally if you change

your mind once we get back.”

A glimmer of a smile haunted his face. “I know you won’t. But

I won’t either. I’d…forgotten how good it is to have somebody
here to lean on.”

Every instinct I possessed urged me to put my arm around him

and pull him close, let him lean on me literally as well as
figuratively. And maybe I would have if we were just friends, and
if I hadn’t made a promise, but we weren’t, and I had. Sam wasn’t
even paying attention to us, but I couldn’t risk it.

“I’m just glad I could help. In fact, do you need anything?

Water? Coffee?”

“Coffee would be good. There’s a machine around the corner

to the left.” When I turned to go, he added, “Peter?” I met his eyes,
so much darker than normal. “Thank you. For everything.”

In that moment, I realized two things. One, I was completely in

love with Aaron Hardison, and it was stupid to try to deny it for
another second. I had fallen for him like a ton of bricks and
ignored all the warning signs while I rushed headlong into a very
ill-advised entanglement. Two, we couldn’t continue like this. I
wouldn’t be able to keep my feelings hidden forever, and Aaron
had made his expectations very clear. I could still hear the concern
in his voice when he stressed that Sam couldn’t find out. It was
wrong to continue having sex with him under what amounted to
false pretenses—namely my pretenses that this was like all my
other flings.

Up until that second, I counted the argument that led to my

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divorce as the worst night of my life. The fighting had been
terrible, both of us pretending that we were masking our insults
and keeping our voices down, though Morgan had been just above
our heads. Both of us suffering and trying to make the other suffer
in turn, lashing out like freshly wounded animals. But that would
probably be a cakewalk compared to the conversation I was going
to have to have with Aaron. Hey, Aaron, remember when I seduced
you into my bed by promising this would be a no-strings-attached
situation? Apparently, I lied.

“You’re welcome,” I murmured before fleeing into the cool,

abandoned corridor. It was a little easier to breathe once the door
shut behind me, but not much.

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CHAPTER 10

After Sam’s trip to the ER, my week really had nowhere to go

but up. I cancelled all my weekend plans so he and I could take it
easy around the house, and though I invited Peter and Morgan to
stick around, Peter declined. Morgan wasn’t too happy about it,
Sam even less so, but I couldn’t blame Peter, not really. He was
worried about Sam and about overstressing him. And he was right.
Sam had a tendency to forget about being careful when Morgan
was around. He had the chance to be a normal kid. Though I loved
that he had the opportunity for that now, it wasn’t smart coming so
quickly after his attack.

Peter had been a rock. The drive, the calm, the support…it

reminded me of all the trips to the hospital Ellie and I had taken
when she’d been alive. He didn’t believe me, but it really was

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easier knowing somebody else was there. I’d forgotten how good it
felt. I’d forgotten a lot of things that Peter kept reminding me
about. When we’d gotten back to the house and I tucked Sam into
his bed, I’d desperately wanted to drag Peter to my bedroom, curl
up under my blankets, and block out the world, but of course, we
couldn’t do that. Instead, we went back down to the kitchen where
I grabbed a couple beers, then sat on the couch while we drank
them.

I fell asleep almost right away. I woke up a couple hours later

with my face buried in Peter’s pit, but when I tried to get more
comfortable, he woke up and immediately started making noises
about leaving.

The week flew. I kept Sam home from school Monday and

Tuesday, but by Friday, he was back to his old self, ready for
another play date with Morgan. I hadn’t had the chance to call
Peter to arrange something, though for some reason, I figured he
would’ve rung me. He must’ve had the same busy week I did, but I
was sure he’d be glad to hear Sam was doing well again.

“Hey,” Peter greeted just before I gave up. “Sorry, my ringer

was off.”

“Lucky you. I think I’d kill to be able to turn my ringer off.”
“I bet. How’s Sam doing?”
“Better. Much better actually.” I leaned back in my office

chair. The sound of his voice had already started the familiar
warmth spreading through my body. “That’s why I’m calling. We
need to get another date set up.”

“Yeah. Morgan and I are going out of town this weekend. But

I’ve talked to Christina, and she’d be willing to meet for a play
date next week.”

Out of town? He hadn’t mentioned anything like that last

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weekend. “Where are you guys going?”

“We’re taking a drive down the coast, and we’ll probably end

up staying the night in Monterey.”

Damn, that sounded like fun. I wish Sam hadn’t had the attack

or I would’ve suggested we make a foursome of it. The boys
would love spending the weekend together, while Peter and
I…okay, so that would be a special kind of torture, not being able
to fuck around like I’d want, but still, spending time with him just
hanging out was worth it, too. I’d enjoyed Friday night before
Morgan came down and told us about Sam. Peter’s wry sense of
humor had been just what I needed, not to mention that I got to
look at him to my heart’s content. This weekend could have been
more of the same.

“I’ll bet Morgan’s excited. When does Christina take him?”
“Sunday night. Christina said Tuesday or Wednesday evening

would be best for her. I’ll email her info to you.”

He’d done a lot of talking to Christina. I don’t think he’d

mentioned her this much in such a short time since we’d met.
“Okay. What about us?”

“I’m not sure if I can meet next week.”
I frowned. Peter’s hours at work were a lot more structured

than mine. “Well, we can do it over lunch. It’s not like you don’t
have to eat. That’s probably best for us anyway, since Sam’s at
school then. Just pick a day.”

“I…I need to talk to you. Do you mind if I come over for a bit?

I should be able get my neighbor to watch Morgan for an hour.”

“Why would you do that? Just bring him with you. Sam would

love to see him before you guys take off.”

“Morgan needs to focus on finishing his homework tonight.

I’m not sure this will take long anyway.”

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That made sense, though Sam was going to be disappointed. I

made a mental note to make it up to him later. “All right, then.
Come on over.”

Peter didn’t tell me exactly when he’d be over, but I wasn’t

surprised when he rang the bell just thirty minutes later. I felt a
small shiver of excitement just knowing he was on the other side of
the door. He didn’t smile when I invited him in, his frown almost a
physical blow.

“Hey.” He looked around my shoulder. “Where’s Sam?”
“Upstairs.” I smiled, hoping to coax one out of him. “I took

your hint and told him to work on his homework.”

“I didn’t want to talk about this over the phone,” Peter said as I

shut the door behind him. “Though maybe I should have.”

My smile faded. Peter hadn’t been this somber the night of the

ER trip. Shit, did the fact he left Morgan at home mean Morgan
had been more freaked out than he let on about Sam’s attack? Then
there was this whole impromptu trip to Monterey. My gaze slid to
the stairs. I definitely didn’t want Sam to hear this conversation. If
it turned out Morgan didn’t want to play with him anymore, he’d
be even more self-conscious about his health.

I jerked my head toward the door behind me. “Let’s talk in my

office.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Peter followed me in. Though he

looked at the chair I offered him, he didn’t sit down.

“What’s going on?” I asked.
Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “I think Morgan and Sam

should play together when Morgan’s with Christina. I mean, only
when he’s with her. For a while. And I don’t think we
should…hook up anymore.”

I stared at him in shock. That was the last thing I’d expected to

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come out of his mouth. What did he mean, he didn’t want to hook
up anymore? The sex was amazing. Some of the best I’d ever had,
and certainly the best I’d ever had with a guy.

Or maybe… it was only that good for me. I’d been out of the

loop so long, it was entirely possible I’d misread him. My face
went hot, my embarrassed blush impossible to control. He had
enough fuck buddies on the side to know a good lay from a
mediocre one. And with our sons such good friends…well, clearly,
their friendship was more important than scratching my itch.

“Are you sure?” Mentally, I slapped myself for such an inane

question. I didn’t need to make this worse by begging him to
change his mind.

Peter nodded. “When we started, it was with a certain

understanding. Casual, no strings, and the boys wouldn’t know.
And I really thought I could do that. But… but I can’t.”

“But we did great Friday night. All right, so I probably

shouldn’t have crashed on the couch with you, but we were up
before the boys were. They don’t suspect a thing.”

“That’s my point, Aaron. You don’t want the boys to know, and

I respect that. I can also totally understand why you don’t want
anything besides a casual thing. You’ve got to focus on Sam right
now. But I’m…I’m at a different place. And yeah, I knew this
when I kissed you, but like I said, I thought I could do it.”

Understanding was slow to sink in, but I think I was finally

getting it. And it was almost as embarrassing as thinking the sex
had been bad. “But you’re still looking for that real relationship.
And this isn’t it.”

“Yeah. Right.” Peter swallowed. “And it’s not really fair to

either of us if we’re not on the same page.”

“But that doesn’t mean Morgan and Sam can’t play together

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when you have him. It just means we stop fucking.” Which was the
last thing I wanted to happen. Peter might have a point, but that
didn’t mean I had to like it. Especially when every instinct I had
wanted to shout at him that this was a rotten idea.

“Aaron, do you…” His question faded as he searched my face.

I looked back curiously, wondering just what he was trying to see.
“Yeah. I’ll call you when I get Morgan back and we’ll work
something out.”

I squashed the rising jealousy that somebody else would be the

one to benefit from Peter’s attention. “If it’s easier for you to just
drop him off, you know, if you find somebody, you’re more than
welcome.” I was proud of myself. I got all the words without
choking on them. Because he would. It was only a matter of time.

“Well… thanks for the offer. But I don’t think I’ll be…I don’t

think it’ll be an issue. I really am sorry, though. I didn’t mean
to…mislead you or waste your time or anything.”

“A waste of time? Are you kidding me?” This entire

conversation was turning too surreal. I rubbed my hands over my
face. My cheeks were still hot to the touch. Peter must’ve thought I
looked ridiculous. “Whatever you think about what happened, it
wasn’t a waste of my time. I might not have been looking for it,
and I know it’s been a long time for me, but Jesus, Peter, every
time we got together, it was hotter than the time before. For me,
anyway. So it definitely wasn’t a waste of time.”

Peter finally smiled a little, and it was like the sun bursting

through heavy clouds. “No, I agree. The sex definitely did get
better and better. Anyway, I should probably go. I promised Carla
I’d only be gone for a bit.”

The concession about the sex was little comfort as I rose to

walk him back to the front door. I didn’t want him to go. I’d been

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looking forward to seeing him all week. This wasn’t nearly
enough, especially when he’d been so solemn the entire time when
all I wanted was to see him smile and hear him laugh, and then to
have the sex taken away, too? I felt like punching my hand through
the wall.

At the door, I stopped him from reaching for it by grabbing his

wrist. “I don’t regret it,” I said when he met my eyes. “And for
what it’s worth, I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Me, too. But it does, doesn’t it? At least until…” Peter paused,

his lips thinning. “I don’t have any regrets. I don’t want you to
think I do.”

That helped. A little. I nodded, uncertain what additional words

might actually accomplish in this situation short of making me
look pathetic.

So I didn’t speak. But I didn’t let him go, either. Not yet.

Tugging him gently, I stepped forward to meet him, tilting my
head to kiss him one last time.

Given the situation, I didn’t expect him to respond. I certainly

didn’t expect him to kiss me back, but he cupped the back of my
head and pulled me closer, his tongue skimming over my bottom
lip. I parted my lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, my head
swirling from the taste and scent of him. I felt my cock stir, the
blood rushing to my groin as I slid my tongue along his. My body
strained toward his, already desperate for more contact, but he
broke away. I might have made a small sound of protest—I
definitely wanted to protest the sudden space and chill between
us—and he answered with another brief, almost tender, kiss.

“Goodbye, Aaron.”
Even if my tingling lips would have allowed me to answer him,

Peter didn’t. He opened the door and walked out, leaving me

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standing there, alone and more confused than I could ever
remember being.

A part of me kept expecting him to turn around. Those kisses

demanded more. So did I. Hell, we wouldn’t even have to do
anything if he’d just come back. I could call his neighbor and have
her run Morgan over, and we could spend the evening together the
way we should’ve done from the start.

But he never did.

* * *

I can’t say I was excited about the Wednesday evening play

date. Christina had been cool but cordial when I’d finally spoken to
her, exhibiting none of the warmth I’d come to associate with Peter
at all. Apparently, Morgan had told her about the midnight trip to
the ER, and while she was sympathetic to Sam’s situation, I got the
impression she thought the friendship with Sam was more work
than it was worth.

Sam would prove her wrong. I knew he would.
I would never have known her if Morgan hadn’t started

jumping for our attention the second he spotted Sam. She was tall,
nearly statuesque, and striking with black hair and an exquisite
face. It wasn’t that I didn’t think Peter could attract such a stunning
woman, but I hadn’t expected his ex-wife to be so…hot. And their
marriage fell apart because he simply wasn’t attracted to her. Her
smile was warm enough when she saw us approach, but it wasn’t
reflected in her eyes.

“You must be Aaron.” She bent at the waist. “And you must be

Sam. Morgan’s told me a lot about you.”

Sam smiled, though he edged a fraction closer to me. The

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exuberance he displayed with Morgan and Peter wasn’t typical.
This polite shyness was. “Hi.”

“Why don’t you two run off and play while the light’s still

good?” I suggested.

They didn’t need to be told twice. The boys took off toward the

swings, Morgan keeping his pace slower so Sam could keep up.

“Thanks for agreeing to this,” I said to Christina. “Sam looks

forward to seeing Morgan more than anything.”

“Yes, Morgan seems quite attached to Sam, too. It seemed

much easier to sacrifice an evening than listen to Morgan go on
about it for the full two weeks.”

My smile felt brittle where my features froze. This was her son

she was talking about. Sacrifices came with the parental territory.
But one night of standing in the dusky sunshine, watching your kid
be happy with his best friend, hardly constituted a real deprivation.

“If there’s something you need to do, I don’t mind watching

both boys.”

“Oh no, I’ve cleared my schedule for the evening.” She folded

her arms and looked past me to the boys. “Is it safe for Sam to be
running around like that?”

I looked just to be sure. The boys were chasing each other

around the poles at the ends of the swing set, their laughter
carrying all the way back to us. I’d seen them run faster—and
stopped Sam, too—but this was tamer than usual, and Sam’s color
seemed good. He wasn’t coughing or gasping, either.

“He’s fine,” I confirmed. “I’ve got his inhalers in case

something happens.”

“And how often does something happen?”
I smiled, hoping it would help her relax a little. “Not as often as

it used to. In fact, I haven’t ever had to use anything while we’ve

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been here.”

“That’s good. So do you live near here? Peter said you weren’t

far from the park.”

“Not too far.” I pointed in the direction of our house. “Just a

few blocks over. How do you feel about sleepovers? Sam really
wants to make it up to Morgan about the last one.”

“Sleepovers shouldn’t be a problem with enough notice.

Though I’d prefer if you kept them scheduled on Peter’s time.”

“Any particular reason?”
“It’s important for a child to have structure and a routine.

Especially a child in Morgan’s situation. How would you feel if
you had to move house every two weeks?”

“I think it sucks,” I said bluntly. The more she said, the more

pissed off I got. “So basically, you want Morgan to have all of his
sleepovers on Peter’s time—taking away time from Peter—
because he had his first one on Peter’s time?”

“No, not because of that. As I said, a child needs structure. So I

like to keep a regular schedule. Peter is…less worried about that,
so it makes sense for the sleepovers to be on his time.”

To me, that sounded like a rationalization not to be bothered

with indulging her son in something he might want rather than
what she wanted, but I held my tongue. She controlled Morgan’s
schedule half the time, and honestly, if they were going to be
friends, I needed to get along with her.

It wasn’t easy. I’d been short-tempered on my arrival, and it

grew shorter by the minute. I couldn’t put my finger on why,
except to know that every time she said anything remotely negative
about Peter, I felt like channeling my inner three-year-old and
shoving her into the sandpit.

Rather than say something that would make the situation more

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tense, I shifted my attention back to the boys. They’d stopped
running around. Sam’s back was to me, but I had the perfect view
of Morgan arguing with another kid, a boy with twenty pounds and
three inches on Morgan’s lanky frame. Their voices were raised,
though I couldn’t make out the words. As I was about to step
forward and find out what was going on, the older boy shoved
Morgan.

Morgan’s response was instant. He reacted so quickly, I almost

thought he must have some secret self-defense training I didn’t
know about. He pushed the boy’s arms away with one hand and
used the other to hit the larger child in the face. He fell flat on his
ass, and I temporarily lost sight of both of them as the rest of the
kids clustered around the fight. We were both moving by then, but
Christina reached the kids first—though not in time to stop Morgan
from kicking the bigger kid in the thigh.

“Morgan Irving, what do you think you’re doing?” Christina

demanded, grabbing Morgan by the arm and half pulling, half
dragging him away from his opponent.

“I was defending Sam.”
My head snapped over to Sam. His shirt was dusty, and a

scrape grated his left forearm. I bolted for him, kneeling down to
search for any other signs of injury. “What happened?”

Sam swallowed. All color had leeched from his face, but his

breathing wasn’t labored. “He called me a baby.”

“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t keep up with Morgan.”
“We were playing tag,” Morgan explained.
I ran my fingers lightly over Sam’s arm. “How did you get

hurt?”

“He shoved me into the tree.”

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“Did not! You’re a liar!”
I straightened and glared at the bully. “So why don’t you tell

me how he got hurt?”

“He fell.”
“Because you pushed him!” Morgan tried to spring forward

again, but Christina yanked him back.

“Morgan, that is not how we solve problems,” Christina said

sternly. “Now I want you to apologize to…what’s your name?”

“Eddie.”
“I want you to apologize to Eddie for hitting him and kicking

him.”

“I won’t.”
“Yes, you will. You know better than this.”
“I won’t,” Morgan shouted, “and you can’t make me.”
Christina’s smile was downright chilly. “Then say goodbye to

Sam, because you won’t be playing with him again until you do.”

“Now wait a minute.” I stepped forward, blocking Christina’s

view of the other kids. “He didn’t start this.”

“I don’t care who started it. I don’t condone violence, Mr.

Hardison. Morgan has to understand what he did was wrong.”

“It’s wrong to defend your friends from someone who’s a

threat?”

“It’s wrong to respond with violence. We were standing right

there. If he was having a problem with somebody, he should have
come to us.”

I snorted. “Right. Because then he won’t look like a sissy who

needs to go running to his mom every time something goes
wrong.”

Christina narrowed her eyes, and I thought she might let me

have it right there in front of the kids. But she bit back her

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response and looked down to where Morgan was struggling to
escape her grip. “Come on, Morgan. We’re going home.”

“Stop. I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t care. If you won’t apologize, then you can’t stay at the

park.” She looked back to me. “Regardless of your opinion.”

When she started to drag Morgan away, Sam darted around her

to block the way to the sidewalk. “Please, don’t make him go, Mrs.
Irving. It was all my fault—”

“It was no such thing, Sam.” There was no way in hell I was

going to let him shoulder the blame, though I didn’t pull him aside
from being in her way. “Never apologize for a bully.” I scowled at
Christina. “If they think they can get away with it, they’ll never
stop.”

“You can’t just go around throwing punches to solve all of

life’s problems.”

“But he was shoving me. And he shoved Sam,” Morgan

protested. “Dad wouldn’t make me apologize.”

“Don’t bring your father into this, Morgan. He isn’t here.”
“Maybe he should be.” I couldn’t take the words back once

they came out of my mouth, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to, either.
“You have equal custody. Equal say. His opinion should get a
vote.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely be discussing the situation with him. He’ll

need to know how long Morgan will be on restriction, for one
thing. But that’s a family discussion.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to punish him for standing up for

someone weaker than him.” I didn’t care that the kids were
listening to us argue. “He didn’t even take the first swing.”

“And I can’t believe you still think your opinion is welcome.”

With that, she began dragging Morgan toward the park gate. Sam

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made another move to block her, but I caught him and held him
back. He was so upset he was shaking, and quite frankly, I didn’t
blame him. Especially since Morgan was still struggling to break
away from her grasp.

“Dad!” His pleading eyes turned to mine. “Please don’t let her

go. She won’t let me and Morgan play together anymore. I know
it. Please? He’s the best friend I ever had.” Silent tears slipped
down his cheeks. “Nobody’s ever stuck up for me like that before.”

God, he was killing me here. Because he was right, and if I

didn’t fight for that friendship with everything I had, Sam would
be alone again.

“I’ll call Peter.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my

speed dial to his number. “He’ll help us. I know he will.”

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CHAPTER 11

I had a life before I met Aaron. I did interesting things on a

regular basis, and when Morgan was with Christina, I did have
ways to occupy my time. Not only did I have hobbies and interests,
I also had dates and a social life. Suddenly finding myself all alone
shouldn’t have been such a catastrophe. On Monday and Tuesday,
I didn’t even try to find something that would keep me busy and
distracted. I came home from work, ate a bowl of cereal for dinner,
and then sat around creating various Aaron-themed lists. Top five
favorite smiles. Seven things that drove him out of his head. Ten
things that he did to me that drove me out of mine.

Wednesday was the worst day of the week up to that point—

granted, it was only the third day on my own. But I knew Christina
was taking Morgan to the park to meet Aaron and Sam, which

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meant they were just around the corner. Within walking distance. I
could go spy on them and they’d never know, but at least then I’d
have new images of Aaron to think about and I could see Morgan
and Sammy playing. I missed them. I missed all three of them like
they belonged to me and somebody had stolen them away. And
maybe if I had any reason to believe things could have been
different, I would have casually walked over to say hi.

But what good would that do? It would only hurt me to see

him. I thought ending things and taking a trip down the coast with
Morgan would help, would somehow make me feel something
besides bitter, helpless disappointment. Instead, I’d had an entire
weekend without distraction to replay the conversation in my mind
approximately ten thousand times. Well, what I could remember of
it. My mind had apparently blocked several details out, perhaps in
an effort to protect me from the truth. But one thing hovered in the
back of my mind, bright and brash. You want a relationship. And
this isn’t it.

It hurt to hear, but Aaron was right. That was another thing I

needed to remember. Just because I went and changed the rules
didn’t mean that Aaron was under any obligation to do the same. I
just…I really wished that things could be different. I didn’t know
how to make them different, and it was utterly pointless to think of
all the things that needed to change and how to change them, but I
wanted to.

I was an idiot. That’s what it all came down to. Aaron made it

sound like he understood and didn’t mind, but when I told him we
couldn’t see each other anymore, he’d been disappointed. I
barreled into his life, pushed him into something he wasn’t entirely
sure he wanted (even if he later decided he wanted it a great deal),
and then ripped the rug right out from under him. But in my

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defense, I’d had many crushes in my life, and none of those had
ever turned into a more severe case.

I was considering that reality when the phone rang. I knew

from the ringtone who it was, and also that he was supposed to be
at the park. My first thought was that something was wrong with
the boys, and I quickly answered it. Almost as soon as I had, my
call waiting beeped, signally Christina was trying to call me, too.

“Sorry, Aaron,” I muttered, answering her call. “Hey, what’s

going on? Is somebody hurt?”

“No. Morgan got into a fight at the playground.”
“With who?”
“I don’t know, some fat kid named Eddie.”
“Oh. Well, what’s the problem? Is Morgan hurt?”
“No, but we got into it at the park. He refuses to apologize to

Eddie for hitting him and kicking him, or to me for being so
disrespectful. Now he won’t stop crying about how much he
misses Sam and he keeps telling me he wants to see you.”

“Bring him over.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I need to be more firm with him. You’re the one who told me

I shouldn’t give in every time he cries.”

“Look, Christina, when it comes to these sorts of things, boys

don’t want their mothers involved. Bring him over so I can at least
talk to him about why we shouldn’t get into fights.”

“Fine. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Good.” The phone beeped in my ear again, indicating that

Aaron was trying a second time. I immediately took the call. “Hey,
is this about the fight? Christina just called me.”

Aaron swore under his breath. “Please tell me she didn’t order

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you to never let Morgan see Sam again.”

“Um, no. Why would she do that?”
“Because she was being completely ridiculous about that fight,

and I called her on it.”

I exhaled. No further explanation was necessary. Getting into a

battle of wills with Christina over anything was a bad idea. It was
practically suicidal to get into an argument over raising Morgan.

“Maybe you should come over, too, and we can all hopefully

discuss this like rational human beings.”

“What did she tell you? Did she happen to mention that

Morgan wasn’t the one who started it? Or that he was defending
Sam from a kid that was bigger than the two of them combined?”

“No, she didn’t really give me the details. She told me Morgan

was pretty upset, so I told her to come over so we could both talk
to him. Now…what ridiculous thing did you call her on?”

“She expected Morgan to come crying to her rather than stand

up to that bully. Does she even know her own kid? Morgan’s way
too independent. Not to mention how protective he gets about the
people he cares about. He does it with you, he does it with Sam,
I’m sure he does it with other people, too. And to top it off, she
wanted him to apologize for defending himself and Sam. Like he
was to blame for the fight in the first place.”

Given how angry Aaron still sounded, and knowing how

bullheaded Christina was, I had the feeling they hadn’t simply
exchanged opinions on how to best handle the situation and then
agree to disagree. I more or less agreed with Aaron, but I couldn’t
undermine Christina’s authority, and if she thought Morgan’s
actions required an apology, I couldn’t very well insist they didn’t.
Of the two of them, I’d rather make Aaron happy. But
Aaron…well, Aaron wasn’t going to be raising a child with me for

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the next ten years.

“She doesn’t think violence is ever justified. And you know,

she couldn’t very well tell Morgan he did the right thing.
But…wait. Why did you ask if she mentioned Sam? Did she say
Morgan couldn’t see him again?”

“She told Morgan he wouldn’t be playing with Sam until he

apologized. And that she’d tell you he was on restriction. And then
she literally dragged him from the park.”

“Oh Christ…okay, she’s going to be here in a couple of

seconds. Come over and we’ll get everything straightened.”
Christina and Aaron could not be at odds with each other. It was
bad enough there was tension between me and Aaron, and me and
Christina. There needed to be some combination of adults that
didn’t stress the boys out.

“All right, I’m just around the corner. She better not have a

problem with Sam and Morgan playing in Morgan’s room, because
they do not need to hear this.” His heavy sigh filled the line. “I
wish it’d been you there tonight. I wouldn’t have been in such an
awful mood to start with, then. Oh, there’s a good parking space. I
better grab it. See you in a few.” The line went dead.

I didn’t have a chance to really think about Aaron’s words

before Morgan used his key to open the door. His eyes were dry
now, but he’d obviously been crying. He marched over to me,
looking up with trepidation and defiance, like he expected me to
lecture him. I crouched down to eye level and pulled him into a
short hug before pushing him toward the bathroom. “Go wash your
hands and face. Sam will be over soon. You can play in your
room.”

“Sam’s coming over here?” Christina demanded. “Why?”
“Because Aaron called and he wanted to talk—”

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“Who cares? Since when does some stranger get input on how

we raise our child?”

“He’s not a stranger, and this involves Sam, too.”
“I told Morgan he was on restriction.”
“Well, I told him he couldn’t have a DS, so I guess we’re

even.”

“That’s real mature, Peter.”
I took a deep breath. “Look, we agreed that we both had say

over bigger issues like this. I agree with you. I think Morgan
should have avoided getting into a fight, and he should have
apologized for breaking the rules at least. But—”

“How do you know exactly what happened? Did Aaron call

you?”

“Yes, he was concerned. And he was just parking so he should

be here soon.”

“What’s going on with him, Peter?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t, I swear.”
The knock at the door shut Christina up—thank God, even

though I knew it was only temporary—and I went to answer it.
Aaron and Sam stood there, the younger Hardison looking
thoroughly miserable, the older hard and furious. Some of that
hardness softened when our eyes met, and a quirk of his lips might
have been the start of a smile, but then his gaze slid past me to see
Christina waiting inside.

Aaron squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “Morgan’s probably in his

room already. Why don’t you go in there and talk about what
happened, while his parents and I have our talk out here?”

A mute Sam nodded. He edged around me, watching Christina

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the entire way, before making a dash for Morgan’s room.

When I stood aside, Aaron followed Sam inside. “I promised

him no yelling.” He looked at Christina. “Please don’t make a liar
out of me.”

“Peter, why does he think he has the right to argue with me in

front of my own son about the best way to deal with discipline, and
then come here and talk to me like that? Am I missing something
here? Do you regularly ask for his input?”

“The situation involved Sam, too,” I pointed out. “And trying

to use Sam to prompt an apology wasn’t exactly fair.”

“You’re right,” Aaron surprised me by saying to her. “I don’t

have the right to tell you how to discipline your son. I do have the
right to express my opinion on how that impacts mine, however,
and honestly, since I think those boys are the best thing to happen
to each other, we owe it to them to figure out a way to resolve this
without taking away the one thing each of them needs the most.”

“I didn’t threaten to send him away to boarding school so he

and Sam could never see each other again. I said that if he
wouldn’t apologize, we were going home. That is when you
literally got between me and the exit and started acting like you
were the one who had the final say on the issue.”

“Okay, wait.” I could see Christina gearing up for the fight, her

blood rising and her eyes glittering dangerously. “I am sure that if
Aaron gave you the impression he felt that way, he’s sorry.
Right?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he never looked away from

Christina. “So I have to apologize for standing up for what I
believe in, too, is that it? Fine. I’m sorry you got the impression I
have more say in how you discipline your son than you do.”

The belief at the core of this argument was that violence was

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never the answer. We were supposed to use our words to solve
problems, not our fists or our feet. Christina and I had both been
bullied in school to varying degrees, and I knew this was
something she actually believed in quite strongly, and I supported
her. But in that moment, I itched to slap them both across the face,
like Clark Gable slapped hysterical women in old movies.

“I’m sorry you think you have any say.”
“Okay, enough. Seriously guys? Do you want me to just leave

the two of you here to duke it out? I can go play with Sam and
Morgan. Right now, they’re probably a lot more reasonable than
you two.”

Aaron finally shifted his attention to me. “How am I being

unreasonable?”

Christina laughed. “Are you kidding me? You might as well

have Neanderthal tattooed across your forehead.”

This was not going well. This was not going well at all, and if I

didn’t do something quick, the whole situation was going to blow
up in my face.

“Christina, I know Aaron well enough to know that he wasn’t

trying to undermine you in front of Morgan. Now, from what I can
piece together, it sounded like you started with the threat of taking
Morgan home and escalating from there. Right?”

Christina nodded grudgingly.
“Did you really think that what Morgan did deserved restriction

from playing with Sam, or were you just trying to show Aaron?”

“That’s not fair, Peter.”
“But you know that’s how you fight. You go right from

baseline to the nuclear option. Remember what that relationship
counselor said?”

“You’re really going to bring that up now?”

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“You agreed with him at the time.”
“Fine, yes. But I still think that Morgan needs to understand

that playground fights are not the solution. I don’t want him to be
getting in trouble at school because some random guy told him he
needs to fight bullies.”

“I am not some random guy,” Aaron argued.
“You’re also not his father.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about him. And the last thing I

want is for him to be picked on because he doesn’t know how to
defend himself.”

“Fighting is not the answer.”
“Neither is running to your mom. Because at that age, it’s

embarrassing. Bullies like that kid see it as weakness.”

“Is that personal experience?”
Aaron’s nostrils flared. “This isn’t about me. You don’t want

Morgan to fight? Fine. I can respect that. But you should’ve
thought about how it was going to look for him. Why didn’t you
ask the other kid where his parents were? If we’d involved his
mom or dad, we could’ve avoided all of this, because then it’s his
bad behavior—that started all of this in the first place, remember—
that’s in the spotlight. Not your son’s.”

“Well, since you have all the answers, why didn’t you make the

suggestion when it actually would have mattered?”

“Oh, good God. I’m going to go speak to Morgan and Sam

now. Alone. I’d tell you two to stop arguing, but I don’t think
you’re capable of it.”

Aaron spoke before I could move. “Because I wasn’t thinking

straight. And I’m sorry for that. Genuinely sorry. But I showed up
at the park in a bad mood, and it didn’t really get any better once
you threatened to separate the boys. Even temporarily.”

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“The play date was your idea.”
“I know. Because I still believe they’re the best thing for each

other.” Taking a deep breath, he shoved his hands in his pockets,
his shoulders slumping. “I was pissed because I was going to have
to spend time chatting with you instead of Peter.”

“What difference does that make? What’s going on here,

Peter?”

“Nothing. Leave it.”
“That’s not what it looks like.”
“Well, that’s what it is,” I snapped, raising my voice for the

first time.

“We’re friends,” Aaron interjected. “And we’d be friends even

if we didn’t have the boys in common.”

I wanted so much for that to be true. Of course, if Aaron knew I

had gone and fallen in love with him, he might be singing a
different tune.

“Can we all agree that regardless of what happened, we’re

dealing with a relatively minor issue that got blown out of
proportion?” I could see neither one of them wanted to agree to
that, but I didn’t care. “We’ll give Morgan some strategies besides
hitting people or running to his mother, and Aaron, I’ll call to
arrange something. We still owe Morgan a trip to the aquarium
with Sam.”

Aaron was poised to argue more, but he glanced at me and

nodded instead. “All right. I’ll get Sam and go. I just never wanted
them to lose each other.” He paused. “When you’ve got a good
thing, you have to hold onto it. Even if it means fighting for it.”

He ignored the narrowing of Christina’s eyes and disappeared

down the hall for Morgan’s room. The low murmur of their voices
pounded against my skull, and then he was back, his hand on

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Sam’s shoulder. Nodding to me once, he walked past and let
himself out.

“Is he always that pushy?” Christina asked.
“He’s not pushy. He just…cares a lot and has his own ideas

about things. I think you just don’t like him because he’s too much
like you.”

“So clearly you have a type.”
I felt the blush crawling up the back of my scalp, and there was

no point in denying it. “I’m going to talk to Morgan.”

“I’ll make a snack. He’s probably hungry by now.”
I found Morgan sitting on his bed, his knees folded and his face

dirty and streaked with drying tears. I closed the door behind me
and sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to acknowledge me.

“Are you going to yell at me, too?”
“No. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Me and Sammy were playing tag, and some older boys

wanted to play, too. But they were running too fast for Sam. And
he was it, so Eddie started making fun of him, and calling him a
baby. Then he pushed Sam down, and I told him not to do that. So
then he shoved me and I hit him back.”

“You only hit him?”
“I kicked him, too.”
“After he was down?”
“Yes.”
Which might have been the actual act that set Christina off.

“Okay, listen to me, Morgan. You’re not going to get in trouble for
defending yourself or Sam. One punch is self-defense. But you are
going to be on restriction until tomorrow.”

“Why? You said I’m not in trouble.”
“You’re not in trouble for defending yourself. But there’s a

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difference between self-defense and kicking a man when he’s
down. And that is not ever acceptable. Understand?”

Morgan nodded. “Yes. Can I still play with Sam?”
“Of course you can. We’ll definitely do something with him

the weekend you come back.”

“Mom and Mr. Hardison like to argue, don’t they?”
“Yes, but only when they both feel very strongly about

something. Sometimes adults disagree about the best response. So
I guess that’s your other lesson for the day, kid. Adults don’t
always know everything. Except me.”

Morgan grinned. “You don’t know everything.”
“I most certainly do. Now, do you have your DS?”
“No. It’s in my other room.”
“Okay, when you get home, you need to give it right to your

mother. And don’t make that face at me. You got off easy. Come
on, Mom’s making food.”

Morgan finally brightened at that, and I hoped the trauma of the

day would be put behind him. Now I needed to figure out how I’d
put the shock of seeing Aaron behind me. It would get easier. It
had to get easier, right?

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CHAPTER 12

I waited until Sam was asleep before giving in to the impulse to

call Peter. Once I calmed down about Christina, I realized I still
desperately wanted to speak to him. Seeing him only reminded me
of how much I missed him. It’d only been a handful of days since
he, well, since he broke up with me, but it seemed like much
longer. After my brief time with Christina, I realized a couple of
things. I didn’t want to be some “random guy” in Morgan’s life, or
nothing more to Peter than an inconvenience at play dates.

“If you’re calling to press your case, everything’s already been

taken care of,” Peter said, after his more polite greeting.

Relief flooded through me. “I wasn’t, but thank you. I’m sorry

I was such an asshole.”

“Apology accepted, though I don’t think you were being an

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asshole.”

“Your ex thought I was. And you don’t need me making things

more difficult for you. That’s the last thing I want.”

“No, it’s fine. I probably should have seen it coming. You both

have…assertive personalities when you feel strongly about
something.”

“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“Not really. That’s why I called.” I took a deep breath. “Can I

see you?”

Peter hesitated just long enough for my heart to start to race.

“Yeah. When?”

“Does now make me sound too pathetic?” Fuck, it did even to

my ears. I rushed to add, “Sam’s already asleep. I waited until we
could have some real privacy before calling, but if you have to get
up early in the morning or something…”

“No, now is fine. I can come over.”
“Good. I’ll see you in a few.”
I didn’t know how long he’d take, so after disconnecting, I

raced upstairs to make sure I looked okay. I wasn’t entirely sure
why I felt the need to primp, except that I wanted to look good for
Peter. He’d been all I’d thought about all night. How he’d been the
rock I needed the night of the ER trip. How he made me smile
when we were together. How much Sam adored him. All the
drama of Friday night aside, it had almost been perfect, and that
had been because of Peter and Morgan.

When the headlights flashed across my window, I went back

down to get to the door before he had to ring. I didn’t want Sam
waking up and interrupting us. This felt too potentially important
for me to fuck up.

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Peter didn’t look quite as somber as he appeared the last time

he showed up at my house, but he wasn’t smiling, either. I saw the
question in his eyes as soon as the porch light spilled across his
face, and the urge to pull him against me and kiss him until he was
winded was almost overwhelming.

“Were you waiting for me?”
“I didn’t want the bell to wake up Sam.” I cringed as soon as

the words escaped me. Jesus, if this was a sign of the night to
come, I was doomed now. “I wanted you all to myself.” Hopefully,
that would help mitigate some of the damage.

“Was Sam upset by all the drama today?”
“Yeah. He blames himself for it.” I held the door wider,

gesturing for Peter to come in. “Do you want something to drink?
Or if you’re hungry, I could throw some food together.”

“No, I’m good. Is that why you wanted me to come over?”
“You mean, because of Sam? No, no, not that. He’s fine. Better

once he finds out he can still play with Morgan.”

“There was never actually any danger of that. Christina was

annoyed, but she’s not that unreasonable. Mostly.”

Peter wasn’t venturing any farther into the house, which left me

fidgeting. He’d been very clear about the separation of our
relationship, and I was about to stomp all over it again, in my usual
clumsy fashion. There was every possibility I was about to make
things worse by bringing this up at all, especially if his body
language was anything to go by.

“I’ll just have to be careful about what I say in front of her

from now on. But I didn’t call because I wanted to talk about her,
either.”

“What do you want to talk about?”
I swallowed. “Us. You. But not standing here in the hall.” I

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began backing up toward the family room, hoping he would
follow. “Will you stay for that?”

“I guess that depends on what you want to say,” Peter said, but

he did take a step forward, and then another.

“Did you call it off between us because you found somebody

else?” That was the most important question. Because if he had,
anything I might have to ask afterward was moot.

“No, there’s nobody else. I told you why I broke things off.”
“Because you didn’t want us fucking to get in the way of you

finding something real. I get that. I do. You told me that at the
start. But…” We finally reached the family room, and I swept my
arm around the big empty space. “I mean, look at this. Do you
know how little time I actually spend in this room? Because every
time I do, it just reminds me of what I don’t have.”

“That’s not…Aaron, that’s not what I said. That’s not what I

meant. Do you remember what we talked about the night we
kissed?”

I stared at him in a fluster. “Of course, I remember. But what

do you mean, that’s not what you meant? What does the night we
kissed have to do with that?”

“Because I said we could keep things casual and no-strings,

and you immediately said that’s what I want. And you said you
didn’t want the boys to know. That’s what we agreed to. When I
realized I couldn’t keep my end of the deal, I decided it was best to
stop now before things got really awkward.”

“It was what I wanted,” I said automatically, but my brain was

chugging away, processing the rest of what Peter had said. I’d
assumed our relationship was distracting him from finding what he
really wanted. But from the sound of it, he’d been having other
problems, and rather than disrespect my wishes, he’d called it off

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completely. “So…just so I’m clear here, the part of the deal you
couldn’t keep…would that be the casual part?”

“When we were at the ER, all I wanted to do was hold your

hand, and I know how stupid that sounds, but it’s true. And I
realized that I didn’t want to have some secret relationship, or
pretend that I wasn’t…that I didn’t have feelings. It’s just too hard,
Aaron.”

My heart thundered against my ribs. Peter looked decidedly

more forlorn than when he’d arrived. My sole desire was to kiss
that misery away, but I held it in check a few seconds longer.

“The past few days have been awful,” I said. “I’ve missed you,

more than I thought it was possible to miss anybody but Sam. I
thought…well, after that night in the ER, I started to realize that
maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if this didn’t stay casual. That having
you around, in every way, was infinitely preferable to what I had
before. I was starting to debate to how you’d react if I asked you
out on a real date.”

“I guess that depends on how you react to my question. Would

you be willing to explain a date to the boys?”

“Yes. Because I don’t want to lie to them or have to pretend I

don’t feel anything for you.”

“And what is it you feel?”
“Happy.” That single word was the best explanation I could

offer. It encompassed everything, from flirting with him before
sex, to the sex itself, to just getting to be in his company. “Like I
haven’t been since Ellie died. Like I didn’t think I could be again.”

“Aaron…” Peter crossed the room and put a hand on my hip,

pulling me close against him. “I love you. I haven’t even looked at
another guy since the day I met you.”

His words were more than I’d expected. A different league, a

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different universe. They cast our previous conversation—which
really had been a break-up—in an entirely new light. No wonder
he hadn’t wanted to be around me. And just the fact that he’d been
willing to put his feelings on the back burner to respect mine was
even further proof he was exactly the man I’d known he was all
along.

“What about the others? The fuck buddies I’ve been jealous

of?”

“I hope you haven’t been losing sleep over that. Like I said,

there’s been nobody since we met.”

I dared to curl my arm around his waist. He was the perfect

height for it, our bodies a unique match. “I must be the blindest
man on the planet for not seeing it.”

“God, I hope I wasn’t that obvious. I’ll settle for you being the

blindest man in the Bay Area.” Peter tilted his head and inhaled. I
felt the tickle of his warm breath across my cheek before he kissed
me, his mouth gentle and searching. I shivered as the tip of his
tongue skimmed over my bottom lip, desire piercing me not at the
contact but at the promise the caress contained.

My fingertips tightened where they curved around his side,

locking him against me. Neither one of us deepened the kiss. This
wasn’t the time nor the place for it, not yet at least. In spite of all
the hours we’d spent together, we were too new, too delicate to
dare eclipse it with the power of the attraction I already knew
rested between us. I wanted Peter to believe I was serious. Needed
it, actually. Because he was one of a kind, whether he realized it or
not.

“So do I get the date before or after we talk to the boys?” I

murmured against his mouth.

“Before. As long as you’re willing to talk to them, I can wait.”

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“Is this Friday too soon?”
“Just soon enough. What are we going to do on our actual

date?” Peter smiled. “Not have sex in the bathroom?”

Mention of that particular memory set my face aflame, not in

embarrassment but in a rush of desire. “At least you won’t have to
wonder if you’ll get lucky. And I won’t have to worry about
touching you in public anymore.”

“You mean, you won’t have to worry about me touching you in

public anymore. Because I’ll probably be doing that a lot.”

“Like this?” My free hand reached up, my thumb swiping

along his lower lip. “I wanted to do that at Tony’s. You had sauce
stuck to it, and I figured licking it off would be bad form.”

“Mmm.” Peter caught my thumb in his mouth and bit lightly on

the pad. “So what do you think? Should we grope each other on the
couch like a couple of teenagers? You could be the babysitter, and
I’ll be your boyfriend sneaking in after the kids go to sleep.”

I grinned. “I’ve never had one of those before.”
Peter sank down to the couch and pulled me with him. “Then

you don’t know what you’ve been missing out on. And I promise, I
won’t try to pressure you into going all the way with me.”

“Only because you know I’m a sure thing anyway.”
Peter smirked. “Well, I don’t believe all those rumors about

you being a slut. But just so I know, will I have you to myself all
of Friday night?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him he could have me all

to himself for as long as he wanted, but I bit it back in time. Later,
perhaps, after we’d talked to the boys and they understood their
dads were more than a little nuts for each other. “I’m going to do
my best,” I promised. “I’ll call Ellie’s parents and see if they want
Sam for the whole weekend.” I pushed him back onto the arm,

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pinning him with my weight. “I want to know what it’s like
waking up with you in an actual bed, and what it’s like ending the
day together. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll get to find out if your
come tastes as good first thing in the morning as it does the rest of
the time.”

“How am I supposed to be happy with some innocent groping

when you say things like that?” Peter murmured, shifting his body
to settle more comfortably beneath me. “But I’ll tell you, it tastes
better in the morning.”

I loved it when he talked like that. I loved that I was free to

push every single boundary I found—emotional, physical, or
something else completely. I loved that this conversation had
turned out the best possible way, and I especially loved that Peter
was currently shoving one of his hands down the back of my jeans
to knead at my ass.

“It’s your fault.” I bent down and dragged my tongue along his

jaw. My taste buds prickled, and my cock throbbed. “You’re the
one who brings it out in me.”

Peter pushed his hand between us, massaging my growing

erection. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been responsible for
rug burns on your knees. I think I better correct that before the end
of the weekend.”

I groaned. My teeth sank into the sinew that ran down the side

of his neck, while I bucked upward in desperate search for more of
Peter’s touch. “I have no idea why you don’t believe I’m a slut.
Because the thought of that happening makes me want to forget the
date and get straight to the weekend.”

“I guess that means you’re my slut, then.” Peter tugged my fly

open, his fingers immediately seeking my cock. “You moan like
one when I do this.”

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“Yes…” It drew out into a long hiss, my body arching away as

I thrust into his tight hand. My skin was tight, dry against his grip,
but as the tip slid against his palm, pre-come slicked the way when
I pulled back. “Your slut. Just say the word, and I’d do whatever
you wanted.”

“I know you will.” Peter twisted his wrist, letting the heel of his

hand drag over my sensitive head. His other hand flexed against
my ass, fingers pressing into the flesh as he held me closer. “It’s all
I think about anymore. All I dream about.”

Bracing on one hand, I used the other to reach between us. It

wasn’t enough that he was touching me. I needed more, holding
him, rubbing our cocks together, tasting his lips. My body
trembled with the want of him, still unsure that this was really
happening.

“You drive me crazy.” I licked down the front of his neck,

nipping at his Adam’s apple, sucking hard at the softer skin at the
base of his throat. Somehow, I managed to get his jeans open, and
we both sighed with relief when my hand curled around his
erection. “I dream about how many different ways I can get your
cock into me. And for the record, my subconscious is very
creative.”

I pulled him free of his jeans and Peter wrapped his long

fingers around both shafts, holding them together. I shuddered at
the silky smooth feel of his skin against mine, moaning at the easy
friction as I rolled my hips. He pumped his wrist, letting our cocks
slide together with each stroke. I sank my teeth into his skin to
muffle my increasingly loud moans, knowing I had to get myself
under a bit of control or risk waking Sam. That was a sobering
thought, and some of the tension eased from my groin—only to
return when Peter whined softly and arched beneath me.

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“Maybe I should make sure I’ve got gags from now on.” I

choked on a cry when he slipped his long fingers between my
buttocks, fingertips grazing over my hole. “Shit. How do you
expect me not to scream when you do that?”

“I’d like to see you in a gag,” Peter said breathlessly, his

middle finger moving over my pucker until the tip pushed past the
muscle. I closed my eyes and dropped my head to his shoulder,
struggling to keep my breathing even as he pushed up to his
knuckle while he continued to rub our cocks together. His flesh
throbbed against mine, slick with our mingled arousal. “On your
knees, hands tied behind your back.”

Every word evoked a new image, each one hotter than the one

before. The games he suggested weren’t new to me, though I
hadn’t indulged in any of them since college, and never with
anyone I had genuine feelings for. With Peter, though, I yearned to
experience them all. He’d opened doors in me I hadn’t realized
were locked shut, offering freedom in ways that shouldn’t have
been as exhilarating as they were.

“You can fuck me any way you want then.” My voice was

barely a breath, my lungs too tight to work right. “Make us both
happy.”

“I plan to fuck you any way I want with or without the gag.”

Peter curled his finger and tickled against my prostate. “I want to
fuck you right now.”

Nothing had ever sounded so good, but with the fresh sparks

shooting through me, shouting an affirmative “Yes, please,” was
out of the question. His firm grip stripped our cocks at a
maddeningly slow tempo, but I craved his strength right now more
than anything else. Folding my hand over his, I encouraged him to
squeeze harder, clenching around the finger at my ass at the same

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time. My lips found his. The fusion of his mouth to mine, the touch
of his tongue, detonated the climax just simmering beneath the
surface of my skin.

My body locked, but Peter kept on going, using my come to

lube the slides up and down our shafts. He kept his finger buried
inside me, and I wondered through the euphoric haze whether or
not he’d make good on his promise and flip me over to replace it
with his cock. I’d let him. I’d let him do anything he wanted.
Everything I had was his. And though that should’ve terrified me,
it only left me feeling lighter than air.

His body went taut, and I felt the tension holding his muscles

rigid. He rose from the couch, pushing his body flush against mine,
spreading my come over our clothes and stomachs. His mouth was
hard on my lips, his tongue filling my mouth the way his scent and
moans filled my head. Then fresh warmth splashed across my skin,
his cock jerking with each long strand of fluid that pulsed from the
tip. His mouth softened, his frame gradually relaxing back against
the couch, pulling me down with him for a much slower, much
more subdued kiss.

“Too bad it’s not Friday now.” With one last caress of his

lower lip, I burrowed my face into his neck, content to just breathe
him in. “I really want to take you upstairs.”

“Do you think I should go so we can avoid temptation?”
“Probably.” But I didn’t move. Neither did Peter. “Though it’d

be rude of me to send you off looking like this. At the very least, I
should offer you a shower.”

“Aaron…” Peter turned his head, his mouth skimming over my

hair. “Are you sure about all this?”

“Positive.” I peeled away to smile down at him. “Do I really

strike you as a guy who’d jump into something without thinking it

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all the way through?”

“No. I just…I think I’m still trying to process everything. This

is not really how I imagined my night would go.”

“But you’re sure, right?”
“Aaron, I told you that I love you. What do you think?”
I chuckled. “I think we’re both thinking about this too much.”
“You’d better let me up before I figure out a way to distract us

from our thoughts.”

His suggestion was the last thing I wanted, but I sat up anyway,

tucking my cock back into jeans. “How did you think this night
was going to go?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to talk about what

happened at the park today. Like you didn’t want to have another
play date involving Christina, and since I didn’t think I could stand
the torture of…well, you know, it wasn’t a conversation I wanted
to have.”

“Well, I’ll be honest. I don’t want another play date with

Christina. But I’ll figure out a way to get along with her for
everyone’s sake.” I paused. “Is she going to be okay with us
dating?”

“She should be fine, but I divorced her so she wouldn’t have a

vote on who I date.”

“Would she make things difficult with Morgan because of me?

I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“You mean custody wise? No, I don’t think so. As I’m sure you

noticed, she’s big on routine. If nothing else, she wouldn’t want to
fuck with the arrangements now that we’re settled on something
we can all live with.”

Good. I probably should’ve thought to ask Peter how she might

react if we made things public before springing all this on him, but

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I’d been too wrapped up in the possibility of losing him for good to
consider it.

His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, his mouth swollen from

our kisses. Unable to resist, I reached to touch his lower lip,
smiling when he nipped at my thumb again.

“This is the right thing,” I said. “I’ve only ever known one

other person who made me feel like you do. That’s why I’m sure.”

“I’ve never felt like this for anybody.” Peter caught my wrist

and kissed my thumb. “That’s why I’m sure.”

I felt like I was glowing. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

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EPILOGUE

“Morgan, if you don’t have your shoes by the time I count to

three…”

“But I don’t know where they are! Somebody took them.”
“Nobody took your shoes. You lost them, and you better find

them before Aaron comes looking for us.”

“I’m trying to find them. I looked everywhere.”
“Did you look in your room? Under your bed? In the closet? In

Sam’s room?”

“Yes. Everywhere.”
Maybe they were still packed away. It’d been two weeks since

we moved to Aaron’s house, but somehow, most of Morgan’s
things were still in boxes. I’m not sure why I thought moving to a
new house and planning a wedding at the same time would be a

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good idea, but I’d never make that mistake again.

“Run up to your room. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.” He raced to the stairs, detouring to the front of the

house when the doorbell rang. Seconds later he shouted, “It’s
Mom!”

“You don’t have his shoes, do you?” I asked, hurrying to greet

her and relieve her of the many packages she had balanced in her
arms.

“No. I packed them with his suit.”
“He said he couldn’t find them.”
“What about your shoes?” Christina asked, pointedly looking at

my feet. “You do plan to wear shoes, right?”

“Yes. Maybe there’s some sort of footwear thief in town, trying

to stop my wedding.”

“I suppose it’d be too much to assume that you have the boys’

bags packed for the week.”

I stared blankly at her. “Oh my God, I knew I forgot

something.”

“I’ll go upstairs and get Morgan’s bag packed, at least.”
“Great. Thanks. Wait, what is all this stuff? Does it still need to

go the park?”

“Yep.”
“What is it doing here?”
“Aaron told me he wanted to see it first.”
“He did? Why?”
Christina shrugged. I would have pressed her more, but

somebody honked their car horn outside. “Oh, good, the limo’s
here. Wait. Aaron! Why is the limo here already?”

His voice floated from the back of the house. “Because this is

the time it’s supposed to be here!” He emerged, drying his hands

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on a towel. He was already dressed, his tuxedo perfectly ironed,
not a hair out of place. Shoes, too. Damn it. “Hi, Christina. Are the
boys’ boutonnieres in there?”

She nodded. “And the place cards, the favors, and the guest

book. I don’t suppose you remembered to pack the boys’ bags.”

“Of course, I did. Front closet.”
“Found Morgan’s shoes!” Sam shouted from upstairs.
Relief flooded through me. “Where?”
“In the Lego box!”
Christina shook her head. “Are you sure you don’t want me to

take them to the park? It’s no problem.”

“No, I promised them a ride in the limo, and that’s what they’re

going to get,” I said. “Aaron, is my tie straight? Have you seen my
shoes? And are you sure the limo is supposed to be here? I thought
we had until ten-thirty.”

“It’s a quarter to eleven,” Christina pointed out.
Aaron stopped rummaging around in the boxes I’d set down to

close the distance between us. Even in my agitated state, I noticed
the familiar scent of his cologne, filling my head as he tugged my
tie straight.

“Your shoes are in the front closet with the boys’ things. I put

them there this morning so you wouldn’t lose them.” He lifted his
eyes to meet mine with a smile. “Relax. Today is supposed to be
fun, remember?”

“I’m relaxed.” I took a deep breath and tried to smile, but

judging from Aaron’s face, I didn’t succeed. “Okay, maybe I’m
freaking out a little. I’m nervous. I don’t want to mess up all your
plans and we’re getting married.”

“My plans were supposed to make today easier, not harder.

And as for the getting married part…” Catching my hip, he pulled

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me away from the foyer, into the more discreet privacy of his
office door. “I’ve been looking forward to this day ever since you
asked me. I love you, Peter. And today, I get to shout to the world
how much. And then tomorrow, I get to wake up with you,
knowing I get to do that every day from now on. So don’t be
nervous. Be excited. This is just another step in the rest of our lives
together.”

“I’m very excited.” I cupped the back of his head and brought

our foreheads together. “I can’t think of anything I want more than
spending the rest of my life with you. I’m still so happy you said
yes.”

“Like there was ever any doubt I’d say anything else.”
“At the time, it didn’t seem so certain.” I kissed him, briefly

overcome by the thought that the next time I kissed him in this
house, I’d be kissing my husband. I could kiss him and touch him
and he’d be mine, and the boys would be ours, and it just seemed
like too much. More than I deserved.

“You’ve had me since you fed me ice cream before dinner.”

His lips grazed along my cheek. “My life turned upside down then.
Sam’s, too. And our lives are better for it. Because of you, and
Morgan, and the future we get to have together now.”

“So you’re ready to do this thing?”
“Absolutely.” Though he pulled away, he caught my hand,

lacing our fingers together. “Boys! Time to go!”

Footsteps thundered overhead. Sam and Morgan barreled down

the stairs, mercifully both with shoes, laughing and chattering
away like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“Can we ride in the front seat?”
“What’s the point of being in a limo if you’re in the front?”

Aaron asked.

AQUARIUS: HE SAID, HE SAID

181

“You’re going to ride in the back with us,” I said, pausing at

the front closet to get my shoes. Christina had already taken the
bags out to her car. She was waiting outside as we emerged from
the house, smiling as she caught my eye. I was relieved that she
and Aaron had managed to work past their differences in opinion. I
was glad she was there, glad that Morgan knew he had three
parents who loved him, who would always be there for him. Even
Sam had warmed to her.

“Don’t you four look handsome?”
“You look pretty, too, Mom,” Morgan said.
“Thank you.”
She did, but nobody looked better than Aaron. Nobody had

ever looked better than Aaron did at that moment, bathed in
sunlight, his tuxedo absolutely perfect, stretched flat across his
shoulders. Lust and love and need and want and joy all slammed
through me at once, and I fell in step slightly behind him and Sam
so I could watch Aaron’s perfect ass and strong thighs. He should
wear a tuxedo every day. Would it be unreasonable to make that
request?

“Are you nervous, Dad?”
“No. Are you?”
Morgan looked up at me and grinned as he shook his head.

“I’m going to be the best brother Sam could ever have.”

“Yes, you are.”
The driver held the backdoor open for the boys, but Aaron

caught me by the shoulder before I could follow. He smiled at me,
and I knew I’d do anything, up to and including feeding him ice
cream for dinner every night, as long as he kept smiling at me like
that. For the rest of our lives.

AMIE

RAIG

Jamie Craig is the collaborative efforts of Pepper Espinoza and
Vivien Dean. Both successful authors on their own, they began
working together in early 2006. Pepper lives with her husband and
cats in Utah, where she attends graduate school, and Vivien resides
in northern California with her husband and two children.

* * *

Don’t miss Wearing Death

by Jamie Craig,

available at AmberAllure.com!

When veterinarian Jeremy Reed hears a thump one night on his
front step, he expects to find an abandoned animal. What he gets is
battered and broken cop Brendan Wheeler. Kidnapped from his
apartment five days earlier by an unknown man, Brendan now
sports a vivid tattoo across his back depicting a young woman’s
death, a woman nobody knows.

Until the next morning when Jeremy discovers her dead body.

Brendan wants to find the killer. Jeremy wants Brendan to survive.
And someone wants both of them to pay…

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

OLD

TANDARD IN

UBLISHING

UALITY

OOKS

OTH

RINT AND

LECTRONIC

ORMATS

CTION

DVENTURE

USPENSE

HRILLER

CIENCE

ICTION

ARK

ANTASY

AINSTREAM

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www.AmberQuill.com

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