“It’s understandable. I’ve met your mom. She yelled at me about not wearing a shirt in my own yard once.”
Carter winced. “Yeah. Sounds like mom. Did you put a shirt on?”
I chuckled. “No. What, you’ve met me. You think I’d let someone else’s mom tell me what to do?”
Only my own mother got to do that, and she was a saint. Even when I’d been… less than angelic.
“I don’t think you let anyone tell you what to do,” Carter said, a hint of awe in his voice.
“I don’t,” I agreed. “So… pretending to be hopelessly in love with the local screwup? That’s your game plan?”
Carter shrugged. “It is now, I guess. Kieran’s idea, blame him.”
I laughed again. “Sounds like the level of thought he gives most things. Okay. You got a place to stay?”
“I’m meant to be sleeping on Kieran’s couch.”
“Stay the night with me,” I said, so excited at the thought that my tongue almost got tangled around the words. “You can have the bed, I’ll crash on the couch. Usually do anyway. I’ll even make you breakfast in the morning. How do you like your eggs?”
Was I being too enthusiastic? The more I thought about this, the more excited I got. A whole week with Carter Kowalski, the man against whom I measured all other men.
There was a reason I was single.
“Uh,” Carter said. “Scrambled is fine?”
“Glad you said that, because I can’t poach eggs to save my life.” I grinned at him.
Don’t scare him away.
“There’s a trick to it,” Carter said. “I can show you sometime if you want.”
“I’d like that,” I said, fairly sure he wouldn’t ever actually do it. No, I had a week to spend with him, and that was it.
This was a stupid idea, but I was glad I was going along with it anyway.
It’d make the part of me that was still a teenager desperate to be loved, understood, and accepted happy, and that couldn’t hurt. I’d had a lot of late-night conversations with people like me across the world about how much it helped to do the things we’d wanted to do when we felt most lost now that we were semi-responsible adults.
One of the things I’d desperately wanted to do was spend more time with Carter. It’d be good for me to tick that off.
“So we’re doing this?” Carter asked, as though he couldn’t quite believe it.
“Sure,” I said. “Unless you’re getting cold feet?”
“Probably not until we get to the hotel,” Carter said. “I hear there’s six inches of snow on the ground.”
“Was that a joke?” I asked, heart lighting up at the thought that Carter was joking with me.
He had a sense of humor so dry it would have been at home in Death Valley, and I’d only heard it a few times in my life.
“It was meant to be,” Carter said, smiling wryly.
“It was funny. Sorry, just… took me by surprise. You were so quick and your delivery was so deadpan.”
“I’m aware of my shortcomings as a comedian,” Carter said. “That’s why I’m not making a living doing standup.”
Where the hell did he get off being so adorable? I could see why his ex might want another chance.
But I could also see that if he was willing to do something this dumb to avoid her, she didn’t deserve one.
“Anyone who doesn’t appreciate your sense of humor is an ass,” I said. “Come on. You can drive me home, it’s fucking cold outside.”
Morgan: did I just see you heading home with Carter Kowalski?
Yep. He’s taking me to his sister’s wedding.
Morgan: what?? how long have you been screwing?
We haven’t. It’s a platonic thing.
Morgan: oh, I see
Morgan: a platonic thing with the guy you couldn’t shut up about for five minutes when we were in high school
Morgan: sounds legit
You’re such an ass sometimes
Morgan: love you too, tell me if his dick’s as good you want it to be
“Is that Kieran?” Carter asked, still standing around in the middle of my apartment like he wasn’t sure what to do indoors.
“Morgan,” I said. “You remember, from high school? He runs the florist next to the tattoo shop.”
“Oh. Right, well. I’ll leave you to it.”
“I was gonna order a pizza,” I said.
It wasn’t exactly a romantic candlelit dinner, but Carter looked exhausted. Couldn’t hurt to take a little care of him, could it?
“I could go for pizza,” Carter said.
“Awesome.” I grinned at him, patting down my pockets for phone, wallet, and keys as if we hadn’t just gotten in. “I’ll order on the walk, give you some time to settle in. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” Carter agreed, shoulders loosening a fraction.
I wished he didn’t react to me like I was a stranger. I’d pined for him for years, and he barely knew me.
Apparently, that still hurt.
“I’ll be back in twenty,” I promised, heading for the door. “My home is your home.”
“You’re very kind,” Carter said, like he was surprised.
I turned that thought over in my mind as I braced myself to brave the cold outside.
3
Carter
Aiden’s bed proved more comfortable than I’d imagined it would be, and he’d even gone to the trouble of changing the sheets after dinner.
His bedroom had even more trophies and awards in it, the whole apartment filled with art prints—some framed, others taped to the wall, taking up every inch of space in some places.
I knew people I worked with who would have killed for a fraction of Aiden’s art collection. It was incredible.
Strange to feel like I was meeting someone I’d known most of my life for the first time, but that was exactly what this was like. Aiden had always been Kieran’s little brother, kind of a delinquent.
Sweet enough, but… not like this.
I got what Kieran meant about him being out of my league. If I’d actually been gay—or he’d been a woman—I wouldn’t have stood a hope in hell with someone like this. Aiden was much cooler than me, and more accomplished.
Attractive, too. I wasn’t exactly sure what people looked for in men, but I knew Aiden had more of it than I did.
The seven a.m. alarm I’d set on my phone went off, prompting me to scramble for it before I woke the entire neighborhood. Bleary-eyed and already missing the warm bed, I wandered to the bathroom at my bladder’s insistence.
Unfortunately, I didn’t hear the spray until I opened the door, coming face-to-face with a completely naked Aiden in a completely open shower, turning to see what kind of asshole would walk in on someone in the bathroom.
He was covered in tattoos, from the pin-up style merman on his upper arm to the elaborate anchor perched on his hip, to…
“Holy shit,” I blurted out, staring in horror. “Is that a piercing?”
Aiden laughed as I tore my eyes away from his dick—which I shouldn’t have been looking at in the first place. Cheeks burning, I focused on the towel rail, watching as he curled fingers tipped with immaculate black nail polish around the fluffy white towel hanging over it and not looking at him.
I’d seen more than I ever wanted to.
“Yep,” Aiden said, laughter in his voice. “And yeah, it hurt, I couldn’t put it in anyone for twelve weeks, and I definitely haven’t had any complaints about it. What else do people usually ask? Oh, no, it’s not hard to clean around, yes I take it out, no it doesn’t get in the way of peeing, women especially love it because they know I have to keep my dick clean so I don’t get an infection, and do you have any idea how bad straight men are about that? It’s like they don’t like blowjobs.”
My face was on fire and I was starting to wonder if you could die from blushing so hard all the blood drained from where it needed to be.
“I…”
What wa
s I supposed to say in this situation?
“Haven’t seen a lot of straight men’s dicks, to be honest.”
That probably wasn’t it, but Aiden laughed again. Maybe that meant he wasn’t about to bail on me for the wedding.
“Neither have I,” he said. “I’m just reporting what I’ve been told.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, which was closer to what I should have been saying. “Sleepy. Didn’t hear the shower. Won’t happen again.”
“Shame,” Aiden said. “The look on your face was priceless.”
He had every right to tease me. Not only had I walked in on him—bad enough, but excusable—I hadn’t looked away. Not quick enough, anyway.
“You know, you’re not like I expected,” I said as the thought hit me, turning to look at him again. “I mean… not in a bad way. You’re a lot more upbeat than I remember.”
“In high school I was a dyslexic closeted bisexual with authority issues and my brother was the football captain and a straight-A student. Now I run my own business and people like and respect me exactly as I am.”
That… that was an excellent point.
“Didn’t know you were dyslexic,” I said.
Aiden shrugged. “Neither did I until later. Sure does explain a lot.”
“Must be tough.”
Was that the right thing to say? Maybe he would’ve preferred if I didn’t say anything, maybe that sounded like pity.
I had no idea how to be around him anymore. We were both grownups now. He wasn’t a kid two grades below me at school.
“Still can’t spell for shit, but no one yells at me for it anymore. Well, except a few assholes on the internet, who I guess think they look like geniuses next to me when they point it out. I block ‘em. And I get Devin or Morgan to proofread the important stuff for me.”
As if it hadn’t changed enough already, my whole view of what Aiden was really like shifted monumentally again.
On the surface he was a troublemaker covered in tattoos—and with a cock piercing, which I still wasn’t over. But when you looked at him for more than a few seconds, there was so much more. Hard-working business owner, for one. Genuinely talented artist, for another.
Cheerful and upbeat and not mad at me for walking in on him. Happy to talk about himself and his struggles. Confident enough not to listen to anyone who didn’t take him as he was.
Completely out of my league, if I’d been interested at all.
He even had Kieran’s classic good looks and the same incredible eyes. They weren’t identical by any means, but they were both dark-haired and handsome-featured. Aiden must’ve turned heads all the time, and not just because of the eyeliner he’d been wearing yesterday.
“Well, you’re probably in here for a reason,” Aiden said, adjusting his towel around his waist. “I’ll leave you in peace. Scrambled eggs, right?”
“Right, but… you really don’t have to, you’re doing more than enough for me.”
“It’s good practice.” He grinned at me. “You’ll feel more like you’re actually my boyfriend if you let me look after you.”
I didn’t understand why Aiden was taking this so well, but I was starting to realize how grateful I was for it. He was making my life easy.
Kieran had been right. He was the perfect solution.
Maybe this wedding wouldn’t be so bad after all.
4
Aiden
“If you wanna pull over sometime soon, I’ll take over the driving the rest of the way,” I said, watching as snowcapped trees whizzed by outside the window.
We’d already crossed the border—not the ordeal Carter had expected it to be—and there were only a couple of hours of solid driving left.
“You drive?” Carter asked.
“No.” I smiled to myself. “But it can’t be that hard if you’re doing it.”
“Can’t tell if you’re serious or if you’re still paying me back for walking in on you in the shower earlier.”
“I’m serious about the driving and you’re not the first person to see me naked. You’re not even close. Trust me, I’m not mad about that.”
“You’re being nicer to me than you ought to,” Carter said. “Why?”
I snorted. “I’m starving and if you pull over I can get something to eat,” I said. “Also, I don’t want you driving fatigued, and the dark circles under your eyes are making me nervous. It’s not selfless.”
Carter didn’t need to know that I was trying to give him a break because I wanted him to be as relaxed as possible for dealing with his family. I’d only grown up next to them, but I knew they were… an experience.
Carter was different. Sweet, and kind, and smart. So smart. He’d been an honor student while I’d been scraping by and begging to pass so I wouldn’t be left behind.
Maybe someone else in my position would have hated him, but I just wanted to curl up next to him and let him explain everything to me, because maybe then I could get it through my thick skull.
I’d listened in on him and Kieran doing homework a million times, and I always understood better when he was explaining something.
Aside from wanting to jump him, I felt like I owed him. Even if he didn’t know he’d done anything for me.
“You know,” Carter said. “You’re definitely Kieran’s brother.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I know. All my life, even. I have a younger brother, too…”
Carter snorted. “Yeah. Same sense of humor,” he said. “Not funny.”
“Listen, you made a joke about getting cold feet in the snow, you don’t have a leg to stand on here.”
“A leg to stand on?” Carter glanced at me, eyebrow raised. “I hope that was deliberate, it was too good not to be.”
“I pride myself on being funny enough that my clients forget about the pain and the nerves,” I said.
“Well,” Carter said, flicking his turn signal on as we approached an exit that promised there was food nearby. “If I ever lose my mind and decide to get a tattoo, I’ll come to you for it.”
“You think the waitress is cute,” I teased once I was sure she was out of earshot, watching Carter’s cheeks flush in response. Making him blush could’ve easily become my new favorite hobby.
“How do you know?” he mumbled, playing with a sugar packet he’d picked up. He’d always had nervous fingers, and I was thrilled to see that hadn’t changed.
Because I’ve wanted you to look at me like that for ten years, I thought.
Well, not ten continuous years. After Carter moved away, I’d only thought about him after someone had hurt me.
Carter never would have hurt me. At least, the fantasy Carter who existed in my mind wouldn’t have.
“You’ve got all the body language happening,” I said, gesturing vaguely at him. “I’m not judging, she is cute.”
Carter looked down at the table. “If you say so.”
Why was he being weird? Normally I didn’t have any trouble making friends, but Carter was…
He’d probably always been this awkward, hadn’t he? I’d just been more awkward as a teenager and hadn’t really noticed.
Maybe fifteen-year-old Aiden’s tastes weren’t as incredible as I thought.
“I’ll shut up,” I promised. “You can just tell me to do that, I know I’m a little… much. For some people. Most people, probably.”
Carter glanced at me, pretty grey eyes reflecting the sky outside, giving them the faintest hint of blue.
I could have looked at his eyes all day. I could still have looked at his eyes all day. I’d always wanted to.
No, fifteen-year-old Aiden had it right in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I liked the awkwardness. I liked that Carter wasn’t used to the attention, that he had no idea how hot he was, that I could’ve made him blush as much as I wanted.
Aside from the whole… straight thing.
What was I doing here? This had been such a dumb idea. I was just torturing myself over something I couldn’t have.
r /> “You’re not too much,” Carter said. “And you shouldn’t let people tell you that. You’re supposed to be Mr. Confidence. If you can’t be sure that your company is worth having, what the hell chance do the rest of us have?”
“Mr. Confidence?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. People called me all kinds of things, but that was a new one.
Carter shrugged. “You seem to have enough to spare,” he said. “From my perspective, anyway.”
“There’s a difference between not taking any shit and actually being confident. Underneath all this ink and nail polish and leather, I’m… a constant morass of self-doubt.”
“Morass,” Carter repeated.
“It means—”
“I know what it means,” he said, smiling so his eyes glinted warmly in the sunshine. “Not a seething morass? While we’re breaking out the five-dollar words.”
He was teasing me.
No force known to man could have stopped me grinning like an idiot at him. Holy shit this felt good.
It wasn’t mean-spirited at all. It was just Carter, baby Aiden’s number one fantasy object, treating me like a friend.
I could have melted into a puddle of goo under the table. It wouldn’t even have made any difference to the overall stickiness of the floor.
“Audiobooks have taught me a lot,” I said. “And you’re the honor student. You don’t get to say anything about me being a nerd.”
“I’m not,” Carter said, eyes still so warm I was in danger of spontaneously combusting. “Not saying anything, I mean. Except that I’m surprised. Pleasantly surprised. I was wondering what the hell I was gonna talk to you about for a week, because I know basically nothing about tattoos. What’re you reading now?”
Fifteen-year-old Aiden could have cried. Carter was talking to me. Really talking to me, not just making small talk because he didn’t have a choice.
I needed to stop grinning like an idiot at him, or he’d freak out.
Troublemaker (Goode Boys Book 1) Page 2