THE CAFÉ WAS CLOSE enough to the rink that they walked. Zack never seemed to mind getting out in what, to Aaron, was sweltering late-summer heat, and Aaron needed to burn off his itchy energy.
“How are your programs coming?” Zack asked as they walked.
Aaron twitched one of his shoulders up in an approximation of a shrug. “Okay.”
“Just okay?”
Aaron drummed his fingers against his thigh. “My short program is great but Brendan and I couldn’t agree on a song for my free skate so I’m stuck with Katie’s pick. Which...it’s a good song, and I trust Katie’s taste, but I haven’t clicked with it yet.”
Talking shop with Zack felt natural. Why couldn’t they rewind to last night at the farm? Not just the making out—although also that. It was the warm ease between them that he needed.
“How’s your article coming?” he asked.
“All right. I sent in a draft last night. This morning, technically.”
“Really?” Aaron was surprised. “I didn’t know you were so close to done.”
“I wasn’t, but this is what I wanted to talk to you about.” Zack hesitated. “If you don’t mind doing it before we arrive at coffee.”
Aaron stopped walking and turned to face Zack. “Sooner would be better than later. ‘We need to talk’ once is forgivable. Twice is bordering on sadism.”
Zack laughed quietly to himself. “I’m sorry. That’s fair.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair; Aaron caught himself staring at the tattoos on his arm.
“So after last night,” Zack went on. “I went back to Marie’s and babbled to her for a while.”
Aaron smiled, forcing himself to look at Zack’s face instead of his arms. He had a good face. “That is a rite of passage.”
“Yeah, I got that impression. And we talked about you and this place and my mess of a life, and I realized I had two choices.”
“Which are?” None of this was making Aaron’s nerves diminish in the least.
“Be a responsible journalist, confess my ethical lapses—”
“The kissing?”
“Definitely the kissing. Confess that to my editor, and go back to Florida or on to Phoenix and do my damn work and forget any of this happened.”
“Or?” Aaron prodded, when Zack paused again.
Zack dropped his hand from his hair, his gaze intent on Aaron. “Accept that I am happy here and that I am not done with this place or you, but that that means I am compromised in every way with no way to undo that.”
“Which did you choose? “Aaron’s voice was barely a whisper.
“The one where I’m happy,” Zack said softly. “But the only way I could entertain that was to get the article off my desk as quickly as possible. That doesn’t mitigate my lapses, but it theoretically stops them from getting worse. The piece is full of holes about the Sauer kid and my editor will be pissed, but I will deal with that later.”
“Did he ever call you back?” Aaron asked, because it was better than seizing on all his giddy hope. He didn’t trust it yet; he couldn’t.
“Nope. Which means that right now most of the meat of the article is about you.”
Aaron considered that. “That feels a little overwhelming,” he admitted.
“Blame the big stage,” Zack said with a shrug.
“I’ll try,” Aaron said, but then another, much less pleasant, realization hit him. “Wait, if the article has been submitted, that means you’re headed back home, doesn’t?”
Zack shook his head. “Nope. I said I wasn’t done with this place. Or you. So if you’re not horrified by my impulsive life choices, poor journalistic ethics, or fooling around with a divorcé who is possibly mildly afraid of cows, Marie said she’d let me reup on her basement apartment for a bit.”
Aaron grinned from ear to ear, flickering hope blooming to full-on elation in a moment. “Does this mean I have a disaster boyfriend?” he asked, before he could tell himself to reign it in.
Zack stared at him, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Emphasis on disaster. Because look, this is the other thing, I don’t want to cause you problems, and I can think of a lot of ways I might.”
“How?” Aaron demanded.
“When that article comes out.... It’s pretty glowing—because you earned it, not because I want to get in your pants—and if we’re together people are going to have opinions about that, with consequences for both of us.”
“Who’s going to notice?” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest, impatient.
“Someone always notices,” Zack said. “That’s how the world works. But Katie, for one, who never even wanted you to have coffee with me that wasn’t on strictly professional terms.”
Aaron shrugged. “It’s a little late for that now. I’m an adult; she knows that. I do my work; she knows that too.”
Zack scratched his hand across his cheek. “Okay. Maybe. But... like you said... skating is the most important thing.”
“Sure. But it’s not the only thing.” Aaron tapped his foot to emphasize his point. “Ask me out, or I’m going to get in trouble for nothing and this conversation makes no sense.”
Zack seemed ready to leap at the command. He grabbed Aaron’s hands, gently uncrossing his arms. “Have dinner with me tonight?”
Aaron bit his lip, and considered if Zack would be annoyed if he pushed things now. If Aaron hadn’t frightened him off yet...
“No,” he said, making up his mind and secretly enjoying the momentary crestfallen look on Zack’s face. “A boy is never available at the last minute. How about...” he drew the words out, thinking about them. “We get coffee, you walk me back to the rink, we make out somewhere we won’t get busted, and then you invite me over for dinner sometime this weekend?”
“There are some bold and intriguing ideas there,” Zack said. He rubbed his thumbs over the back of Aaron’s hands.
Aaron squeezed their fingers together. “I should hope. No one calls me boy-crazy just to be mean, you know.”
Chapter 10
A FEW DAYS LATER
Zack’s Apartment in Marie the Ex-Nun’s Basement
ZACK SPENT FRIDAY GROCERY shopping and cleaning the little basement
