“Right,” Caleb said. He glanced at Aidan. If it had been fatigue shadowing his eyes, that would have made sense. Instead, they were wide and white. Aidan hadn’t meant to scare him with that offer to fool around in private. “We’ll see you later, I guess.”
Aidan didn’t know any trendy restaurants, but Caleb did. He jumped them right to the front door with no trouble, despite his nerves, and the host smiled and nodded at him. They were given a table right away.
Aidan slid into the seat opposite him and frowned at the menu, a short piece of paper with only five items listed. Every single one of them contained ingredients Aidan didn’t recognize. He drummed his fingers on the blond wood of the table. Great.
“So, I, um, normally suggest the papas bravas to start? And they, uh, make really good cocktails, but I know that’s not your thing.” Caleb bit his lip.
The menu didn’t faze Caleb. The host knew him. Caleb came here a lot, but Aidan had never heard him mention it. Because he brought his dates here.
A hurried server arrived at their table with glasses of water. She did a double-take when she saw Caleb, but that wasn’t necessarily recognition. Aidan had seen plenty of women look at Caleb that way.
She smiled at Aidan, too, but that was customer service. “We’ll have the papas bravas,” he said, because Caleb wasn’t saying anything. “And a ginger ale for me.”
“A ‘Two Truths and a Lie’ for me,” Caleb said. Aidan glanced at the cocktail list. He didn’t know much about alcohol, but that one sounded strong.
She took note and departed.
Aidan nudged his foot under the table, startling Caleb. “Hey.”
“What? Do you hate it? You hate it, don’t you?”
Aidan took in the sleek modern light fixtures and the bustling open kitchen in the back corner of the narrow room. It smelled like frying oil and sizzling meat. The din of conversation surrounded them, but it was easy enough to talk across the tiny table. “I don’t go out much, but I don’t hate it. You don’t need to treat me like this is our first date.”
Caleb’s mouth twisted into an uncertain shape. Not quite a smile. Smile-adjacent. His gaze darted to the side, checking the room. “Of course.”
Shit. He thought Aidan was reminding him to keep up his act. That was the opposite of Aidan’s intention. He touched the toe of his shoe to Caleb’s ankle, forcing Caleb’s attention back to him. “Tell me who you brought here.”
“Wha—”
“C’mon. I know you brought women here. Did you bring any of the ones I knew? I know there were plenty I never even saw.”
“You were busy,” Caleb protested.
“And your dates never liked me,” Aidan said, offering him a crooked smile. His current boyfriend was fake. His last boyfriend had been fake, too. As the world kept reminding him, he was a difficult person to like. “I don’t hold it against you. I’m a divisive figure, so I hear.”
“That’s not why.” In the soft, warm lighting of the restaurant, it was hard to tell if Caleb was blushing, but he took a long drink of water.
“I was too handsome,” Aidan guessed, trying to make Caleb smile.
“It’s… because of what Anna said. The story you told at the interview this morning,” Caleb said, running his fingers through the condensation on the outside of his glass very intently. “I don’t even know if I realized what I was doing. But after Anna said that, I stopped introducing my dates and girlfriends to you. I didn’t want them to get jealous.”
“Caleb, that’s…”
“Ridiculous, I know.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Aidan said. In truth, he didn’t know what he’d been planning to say, but Caleb’s confession made him feel a little unsteady.
Aidan should never have brought this up. He’d only wanted to distract Caleb from his nerves, not draw them deeper into trouble. He wasn’t good at this—talking about feelings, being gentle, whatever it was. All he could do was ask the first question that came to mind. “How could you have a relationship with someone if you didn’t feel comfortable introducing that person to your friends?”
“As you can see, I couldn’t,” Caleb said, sunny as always, clipping his words with a smile.
Aidan’s stomach dipped, and then their food and drinks arrived. They ordered main dishes, and when the server was gone, Caleb took a gulp of his cocktail.
Aidan chewed his lip and opted to steer the conversation toward more harmless subjects: the food, the ambience, the neighborhood. When that ran out, he asked Caleb about his coworkers, trying to keep his questions in the domain of small talk without venturing into surreptitious intelligence gathering, which was his usual approach. He’d ask leading questions and then sift through the answers for clues that someone might be a runner, or might be prejudiced against runners. Caleb, on the other hand, talked about people because he liked them. The set of his shoulders eased as soon as Aidan led him to the subject.
“I didn’t see much of Emil and Kit getting together, but the little bit I did see was pretty cute. Kit’s so prickly, I didn’t expect that from him. Remember all those times he rolled his eyes at us when we tried to get him to join the Union?”
“Vividly,” Aidan said, pushing a piece of roast parsnip through the carefully styled drizzle of sauce on his plate. It was strange, eating with consideration for how things tasted instead of gobbling down whatever would take the painful edge off his hunger. Caleb had chosen a good restaurant, at least. “What do you mean, you didn’t expect that from him?” You don’t think prickly people can fall in love?
Caleb shrugged. “Falling in love makes you vulnerable. Kit always had his guard all the way up, you know? All those times we talked to him, he never softened, not even a little. And since they got together, I’ve seen them… smiling, flirting. Kissing.”
Caleb reached for his cocktail, but the glass was empty. He retracted his hand below the table like he’d been caught committing a crime. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“When did you know you were gay?”
When I accidentally transported myself through space to appear next to your bed in the middle of the night. “I think I sort of… always knew. I couldn’t have articulated the feeling as a kid. Didn’t have the words. I figured it out around twelve or thirteen.”
“And how did you know? What made you sure?”
“I don’t know how to answer that. I’ve never been any other way. What made you sure you liked women?”
Caleb pressed his lips together, and then said, “I’m trying to come up with an answer that doesn’t sound crude.” He laughed. “I guess it’s the same as what you said. I always knew. That’s why it’s so strange to feel… something I didn’t always know about. But since my double kissed me, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Aidan’s fork slipped out of his hand, clanging against his plate. He collected it sheepishly and then laid it down with care. “You didn’t mention that.”
“He caught me by surprise. I was embarrassed.”
“Mm.” Aidan would embarrass himself soon enough if he kept letting this play out like a movie in his head. Caleb’s double had climbed into bed with Aidan and touched his thigh within minutes of encountering him. Apparently he’d been even more aggressive with Caleb. He caught me by surprise. Jesus. “I can see why you’re still thinking about it.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean the kiss. I meant the rest of it, you know, feeling attracted to… men.”
“Not just men who look like you?” Aidan asked. “Not that I’d blame you for setting yourself a high standard.”
God, it was a pleasure to watch his Adam’s apple bob as Caleb collected himself. “Aidan.”
“What? It’s a little late for me to pretend I haven’t noticed. You’re beautiful.”
Caleb’s many girlfriends obviously hadn’t complimented him enough, if it was this easy to render him speechless. Aidan smiled, satisfied like he’d just stretche
d his legs after being cooped up for a long time. He didn’t flirt often, but this—he’d been holding this in, and hadn’t realized how much until just now.
Caleb was spared from further praise by the appearance of their server. He passed her a few bills, probably far more than what they owed. It was Quint’s money, after all. Their server accepted the cash and then stopped in astonishment. Caleb leaned forward and gently closed her hand around it, saying, “We don’t need change.”
Aidan didn’t miss the way she responded to Caleb’s touch, extending her arm as he pulled his hand away, the unconscious motion an offer and a plea all at once.
People had assumed, back in high school and college, that Aidan was jealous of Caleb’s looks and all the attention he received. If Aidan had been jealous of anyone, it was the women. They were allowed to go where he’d forbidden himself to follow. Watching their server gaze at Caleb, enchanted, he felt a pang of sympathy, and then relief. He was allowed now.
“It’s true, then? He’s really giving it all away?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Caleb said, his eyes flicking to Aidan. “It’s all true.”
“Wow, that’s—wow. Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this—oh my God, sorry, I’m a mess.” She sniffled, wiping the back of one hand across her eyes. “You two are cute together, by the way. I guess you know that. Everyone’s been—I mean, obviously we wouldn’t want to bother you, I didn’t let anyone else come over here. But everybody, all my tables and everybody in the back, they’ve all been asking me about you all night.”
“Thanks, we appreciate it.” Caleb reached into his jacket for another stack of bills and handed that to her. She paused when their hands were touching, but this time it wasn’t Caleb she was staring at.
Caleb pushed the money into her hands.
She nodded once and tucked it into her pocket, blinking rapidly, overcome.
“Hey, don’t cry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She hugged him as he tried to stand up. Caleb made bewildered eye contact with Aidan over her shoulder, and Aidan laughed silently.
“It’s not even mine. It’s pocket change to him. The world is fucked up and he should never have had it in the first place,” Caleb was murmuring. “Just take it. Share it if you want, or keep it, it’s yours now.”
The room had quieted. People had stopped stealing surreptitious glances and were now staring. Someone’s camera flash went off. Their server noticed and let go of Caleb. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to make a scene. I won’t tell anybody.”
Caleb smiled and clasped her shoulder. “Tell whoever you want.”
Aidan grabbed his hand on the way out of the restaurant, half for the benefit of the public and half because he wanted to. When the door swung shut behind them and they were alone with the streetlights, the distant noise of traffic, and the wind rattling through the dried leaves, he asked, “How much did Laila give you?”
“I didn’t count it, but it’s all hundred-dollar notes, so it’s tens of thousands at least,” Caleb said, heading toward the corner. It must be instinct pointing his feet that direction; they’d jumped to this neighborhood, and Aidan had assumed they would jump back. “I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to carry around that much, but—”
“We could drop it down a drain and it would still be better than leaving it in Quint’s safe,” Aidan finished. “That was pretty slick, what you did in there. You’re good at getting people’s attention.”
They had reached the end of the block, and Caleb turned away to check the oncoming traffic. It was an excuse. Aidan could tell by the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks, I guess? I feel sort of weird and manipulative about it.”
“You didn’t do any harm in there, and I bet you did a lot of good,” Aidan said. It was his fault Caleb was embroiled in this. “You wanna go home?”
“I’m still carrying a lot of money, and Laila said we should make sure people see us. We should go somewhere else. There’s a bar around the corner.”
Not exactly bursting with enthusiasm, but Aidan respected his dedication to their plan. He wished he could fix whatever was making Caleb sound so uncertain. He couldn’t, of course. Even the home he’d mentioned was a lie.
Caleb knew the bar, another place Aidan had never been. It was even smaller and darker than the restaurant, its few lights reflected in the large mirror and glass bottles behind the bar. Every inch of space inside was taken up by absurdly attractive and stylish young people, perched on stools, lounging in leather chairs, leaning against the counter, and, in more than one case, pressing each other into dark corners, their hands disappearing into each other’s hair and clothes.
Of course Caleb hung out here. He fit right in.
“I’m paying everyone’s tab, with another round included,” Caleb announced, using that long-ago high school theater training to project his voice loud enough to be heard over the music and conversation. The crowd parted. He strode inside and dropped two ludicrous stacks of bills on the polished wood of the bar. He winked at the bartender, an athletic young man whose hair was as artfully unkempt as his eyebrows were groomed. “Keep the change.”
Caleb could carry off that kind of flirtatious confidence in public—God knew he had the jawline and the piercing blue eyes for it—but in private, if Aidan pointed it out in the right tone of voice, he’d fall apart. There was a thrill to being the only one in the room who knew the real Caleb.
The bartender set two shot glasses down on the bar in front of them and filled them with something amber. Whiskey, probably.
“Thank you, but I—” Aidan stopped addressing the bartender as Caleb curved a hand around both shots. A vision of Caleb drunkenly jumping himself into the Arctic flashed before his eyes. There was nothing to do but pluck one of the shots off the counter. Aidan could at least keep Caleb from drinking both of them.
Caleb watched him, surprise and skepticism taut in his expression. No backing down now.
Aidan had never taken a shot, but he was no stranger to swallowing. The liquor burned and his eyes watered, but he managed it.
“Alright then.”
Was Caleb impressed or amused?
Before Aidan could decide, Caleb knocked his back. Tipping his chin up exposed the working of his throat as he drank. Aidan wanted to suck down a shot of that.
Caleb thunked the glass down on the counter and grinned at Aidan. Then he leaned forward, cupped Aidan’s cheek, and drew him into a kiss.
Caleb had staged it perfectly—the approach, the angles—but it was the parts no one else could see that interested Aidan. He swept his tongue into Caleb’s mouth. Sweeter and slower than their first kiss, this one was laced with the liquor’s subtle, smoky flavor, and it was just as potent. Aidan pulled Caleb closer, the smooth leather of Caleb’s jacket sliding under his palms, and Caleb came willingly. Their bodies crushed together, one long hot line from lips to chest to hips. Thirst burned down Aidan’s throat, and he drank and drank and drank.
Someone shoved past them, pushing them aside. They separated, breathless and glossy-eyed, barely aware of the people around them even after that reminder.
Christ. Aidan had to be careful. They were lying to everyone here, themselves included, drowning in a muddle of real and fake feelings. This had been a bad idea from the start and it grew into a worse one with every passing breath. Aidan still had to leave when this was over, because Caleb would never be safe while he was around.
Flushed and bright-eyed, Caleb beamed at the few people gawking at them. He inclined his head, one small drunken wobble short of actually taking a bow.
Aidan pressed his lips together like he could keep the taste of that kiss inside forever. His tolerance for alcohol was low and he could feel it swimming through him. But it hardly mattered. His preferred poison had always been doing things he knew he shouldn’t, and Caleb was at the top of his list.
Aidan grabbed his hand and led him out of the bar. Once this scam was over, Aidan had to pu
t some distance between them, but it wasn’t over yet.
14
Undisguised
Caleb wasn’t that drunk, but Aidan insisted they take a cab home instead of jumping. Standing on the street corner, Caleb almost argued, but Aidan pulled him close. They glided into the kiss like stepping into the Nowhere, free and weightless. There was nothing except the sweetness of Aidan’s mouth.
When Aidan broke away, Caleb was startled to discover they were still standing on the same busy corner. Pedestrians flowed around them. Late night traffic whirred by. Good. That was good. Another public display.
Aidan hailed a cab, the streetlight slanting across the sharp angles of his face, catching on the lenses of his glasses. When one pulled over, Aidan opened the door for him. Caleb shuffled himself into the back seat, ungainly, and Aidan keyed in directions to Quint’s mansion and then sat back, paying no attention as the driverless vehicle pulled away from the curb. His eyes were on Caleb.
“There’s no one watching us now.”
“Right. No need to pretend.” It was impossible to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He’d left the bar elated, but Aidan’s reminder had punctured his mood. There would be no more kissing, absent their audience.
“Mm,” Aidan said, closing the space between them. “I told you it didn’t all have to be for public consumption.” He pushed Caleb’s jacket off his shoulders. Surprised and intrigued, Caleb let it slip from his arms and fall to the floor.
Whatever Aidan was doing, Caleb was going to let him.
Aidan touched his face again, brushing his hair back, then slid his hands down Caleb’s bare arms. That shouldn’t have made him shiver, but it did. Aidan’s fingers rested lightly against the insides of Caleb’s wrists. Could he feel Caleb’s pulse racing?
They had almost all their clothes on, they’d barely touched, and Aidan hadn’t said a single dirty word, and yet somehow it was already one of the most sensual experiences of his life.
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