There Oliver was, on his first technical date with Aiden, and he couldn’t begin to enjoy it.
He should have been ecstatic. He should have been making jokes about good-night kisses and enjoying the nuclear blush that surely would have swept over Aiden’s face. But, instead, all he could think about was Max.
The fight had left Oliver a jittery mass of nerves. He’d lived through his fair share of Kingsman squabbles, but he’d never heard Aiden and Max be that nasty to each other. And then after, when Aiden had let Max leave without trying to fix things . . . That was a coldness he’d never seen Aiden display before.
A small, foreboding voice in the back of Oliver’s mind whispered to him all throughout the movie, warning him that this was a precursor. The first rumble of thunder before the oncoming storm.
They ended up seeing the war film Aiden had proposed in the first place, and it felt like a betrayal. Like, now that they’d gotten rid of Max, they were free to do what they really wanted. Oliver knew that wasn’t what had gone down, but his gut seemed to have other ideas.
He spent the whole movie tense and distracted. When Aiden had slipped his hand on top of Oliver’s, Oliver couldn’t bring himself to lace their fingers together. Max’s words kept bubbling up into his thoughts: “You two vote together, and I always lose.” In his head, a mantra had started to repeat like an echo off the cold walls of a cave.
They’re fighting the same way my parents do; only this time, I know it’s because of me.
His head was in a fog as they walked out of the theater.
Aiden looked at him askance. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” It was the most blatant lie Oliver had ever told. He kept his eyes trained forward so Aiden wouldn’t see through him as easily as a pane of glass.
Something warm brushed his wrist. Aiden’s fingers. “I had a really good time.” He hesitated. “I hope you did too.”
Oliver wanted to take his hand. He wanted to stroll through the parking lot full of movie-goers with his date by his side and act like any other couple. He wanted to offer to walk Aiden to his car, despite the fact that they’d driven here together, and kiss him against the door. Aiden would taste like salt and butter from the popcorn they’d shared, and it would be the perfect end to what should have been a phenomenal first date.
“Yeah,” Oliver said again. “I think we need to talk about some things, though.”
Aiden winced. “Should I be worried?”
“Honestly, I’m the one who’s worried. Let’s go home and we’ll talk.” He didn’t want to worry about tense, emotional driving on top of everything else.
They went straight to the car and got in. No kiss. Nothing.
Once they were on the road, Aiden started talking about the movie. He must’ve been bursting to ask Oliver what was up, but he refrained. It was a considerate gesture, and one that Oliver appreciated.
Oliver must’ve participated well enough, but in truth, he didn’t hear a word. In his head, he was rehearsing what he was going to say to Aiden when they stopped. It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to having, but the more he replayed the day’s events, the more convinced he became that it needed to happen.
For everyone’s sake.
A small eternity later, Aiden pulled into Oliver’s driveway. There was room, for once. It seemed there’d been no family dinner. Oliver was actually a bit sad he’d missed an opportunity to share a meal with just his dad. He’d have to make it up to him later.
“Oliver.”
He glanced over to the driver’s seat.
Aiden was watching him. “I can tell you’re trying to delay having this conversation, but if you do, I might explode.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to act all mysterious. I needed some time to think of what I wanted to say.”
“Is this about Max? Forget what he said before. I won’t let him—”
“Stop.” Oliver held up a hand. “Seriously, you need to cut your brother some slack. Can’t you see how hurt he is by all this?”
Aiden’s eyebrows shot up. “Why would he be hurt? He’s the one who picked a fight with us earlier.”
“Yeah, because he sensed that something was going on between us, and then we teamed up against him. He obviously feels left out.”
“So, what, he gets a free pass to act like a complete brat?”
“No. This is an explanation, not an excuse. He shouldn’t have blown up like that, but honestly, you shouldn’t have been so dismissive.”
Aiden had an honest-to-God pout on his face. “I guess.”
Oliver studied him. “What’s with you? You’re usually good at reading people and understanding their emotions. Why are you refusing to see your brother’s side of this? Both of you are being immature, and I’m not going to get dragged into the middle of it.”
Aiden let out a breath. “I’m sorry you feel like you’re in the middle. I admit I wasn’t the most sensitive with Max, and I shouldn’t have forced you to be a tiebreaker between us. But I had to, Oliver. You don’t know my brother.”
“Don’t I? I know I wasn’t there for all of your formative years, but for the past couple of weeks, it’s been us three against the world. I think I understand you both pretty well, and I have the advantage of knowing you differently from how you know each other.”
Aiden nodded. “That’s true, but like you said, you missed a lot. A lot of fights, and frustrations, and most infuriatingly, the fact that Max always gets what he wants. Like when we were at the arcade. Did we want to talk to those girls? No, but Max did, so guess what we ended up doing. Now that I have you to back me up, I couldn’t miss an opportunity to veto him. For once, I got my way.”
Oliver took a steadying breath. It seemed he was dealing with two hurt brothers, not one. And to think, he’d always assumed Aiden was happy to follow Max’s lead. Maybe that’d been the case at one point, but it was obvious now that something had changed. What did that mean for all three of them?
I feel like I’m about to see what happens when an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object.
Good thing family conflict was Oliver’s specialty. “There’s something I need to say, and I want you to let me say it in full before you comment.”
Aiden studied him with guarded eyes. “All right. I think I can manage that.”
Oliver pivoted in his seat to face Aiden. “You know how I have family issues that I don’t like to talk about?”
“Yeah?” Aiden tensed. “Did something new happen?”
“In a manner of speaking. I . . .” He rolled words around in his mouth, as if he could taste which ones were right. “I already feel like I cause problems in my own family, okay? I can’t be a problem in yours too.”
Aiden gasped. “Oliver, you’re not—”
“Please let me finish. Please?”
Aiden fell silent. He looked so devastated, Oliver had to direct his next words at the sunroof.
“I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I was happy when my parents got divorced. In fact, I was thrilled. I didn’t go through any of the stages of grief some kids experience. I wasn’t angry. I didn’t blame myself. Hell, I didn’t mind having to travel back and forth across the country. They were miserable together, and I knew that. Sometimes, I wondered why they got married in the first place.
“After they split up, I thought things would quiet down, and in some ways, they did, but new problems cropped up too. Holidays became nightmares. Mom and Dad would be forced to see each other, and they’d start fighting again as if they’d never stopped. As I got older, I kept thinking to myself, ‘Why do they do this to themselves? Why don’t they agree to never see each other ever again?’ And then one day, I guess I was finally old enough, because I understood: it was because of me.”
Aiden looked like he was itching to say something, but he remained quiet.
Oliver continued. “I’m what’s forcing them together. As long as I’m alive, they’re stuck with each other. And I hate it. If they’d gotten divorced before Mom got pregnant, they’d never have to see each other.” He paused. “Before you freak out, I don’t mean that in a I-wish-I-was-never-born kind of way. I’m stating a fact.”
Breath escaped from Aiden as if he were a tire with a leak. “Thank God, because I was dying to ask.”
Oliver’s lips twitched. “You know why my dad moved back to Irvington?”
“To be with his family?”
“Sort of. It’s because I turned eighteen two years ago. I wasn’t legally obligated to spend breaks in California with him anymore. I have anyway, but I think he understood that when I graduate and get a job, that’s not going to be possible anymore. He came here to be close to me, but he didn’t move to the city, because that would be too close to Mom.”
Aiden blew out a breath. “That’s rough. Why do they hate each other so much?”
“I don’t think they hate each other. I think they made a fundamental mistake.”
“What’s that?”
“They were never friends. They loved each other, but they didn’t like each other. After a while, the infatuation wore off, and they were left with all the other stuff. Mom’s ambition. Dad’s need for a quiet life. All the things they didn’t have in common.”
Aiden’s brow furrowed. “But if they’re divorced now, why are they still fighting?”
“I don’t know for sure, but if I had to guess, I’d say they rubbed each other raw. When you fight with someone long enough, it’s like it primes you to fight with them again. Your nerve endings get exposed, and the tiniest thing can set you off. I once watched my parents go from zero to sixty over a frozen pizza.”
“That sounds awful.” Aiden reached over, slow enough that Oliver could stop him if he wanted, and touched his hand. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Your parents should care enough to knock it off when you’re around. You know that’s on them and not you, right?”
“I guess.” He squeezed Aiden’s hand. “Anyway, the point is, I’ve had my fair share of familial tension. Your house was always my haven, the place I went when I needed to get away. I can’t watch things between you and Max escalate.”
“What makes you think they’re going to escalate? We had one fight.”
“You’re right. They might not. But this all started when we got closer, so I can only imagine it’s going to get worse as our relationship deepens. I can’t handle the idea of causing tension between you and your brother. It hits way, way too close to home. In fact . . .”
Oliver exhaled. It makes me think you’d be better off if I left again.
“What?” Aiden’s eyes searched his. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I think having all this free time over the summer is making everyone a bit melodramatic. The point is, I want to be Max’s friend, and I want to be with you. But not if it’s going to cause problems.”
Aiden was quiet for a long moment. “May I have official permission to speak?”
Oliver nodded.
Aiden grabbed Oliver and crushed him to his chest. He hugged him so hard, the air left Oliver’s lungs. At first, Oliver was too surprised to react. Then he hugged back with equal ferocity. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed that.
After a second, Aiden pulled back. He held Oliver at arm’s length and fixed him with a fierce look. “Oliver, I need you to understand that this isn’t your fault. The problems Max and I have run deep, and they’ve been festering for a long time.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m not, I swear.” Aiden let his head fall back against the headrest. “I’ll admit you were the catalyst that got me to recognize them, but you’re not the source. This has been going on all our lives, but I think I realized it when we left for college. Max . . . stifles me. When we go to parties, he doesn’t so much as let me introduce myself. I’m ‘my brother, Aiden’ before I can open my mouth. All my friends are his friends, minus the guys on my lacrosse team. We live together, for Christ’s sake. We have our whole lives.”
Oliver nodded. “I’ve wondered before if you guys might be a little dependent on each other, but I didn’t want to make assumptions.”
“Exactly. And you’ve seen for yourself how he answers for me and makes me out like I can’t function without him. I want to be my own person—not Max’s twin—and I think Max can’t handle that. The fight we had earlier was a long time coming.”
There was so much new information to process, Oliver’s head was spinning. “Part of what you’re saying is fair, but you’re also not giving your brother a lot of credit, which brings me to my final point.” He took a breath. “I need you to talk to Max. ASAP. Be as open and honest with him as you were with me a second ago, and find a way to fix this. All three of us need to come out of this as friends, or we’re going to have a problem.”
Aiden muttered something along the lines of, “I don’t see why you’d want to be friends with that immature, controlling—” But Oliver silenced him with a glare.
“Talk. To. Your. Brother, Aiden Kingsman. You’ll be a lot happier once you do, and I’m not going to be able to relax until the air is clear.”
Aiden reached over and brushed his fingers through Oliver’s hair. “That’s all the reason I need. I might not get the chance until tomorrow, though. Is that okay?”
Oliver leaned into the touch. “Take all the time you need. But make things right.”
“Maybe this isn’t the right time for jokes, but—” Aiden grinned “—I feel like such an adult. We’re having a mature, honest conversation about our feelings. We’re nailing this whole communication thing.”
Oliver laughed. “I suppose we are.”
“For the record, I appreciate that you didn’t do this solely for us. You did it for Max too, and I love that about you. I’m angry with him right now, but he’s still my brother, and you reminded me of that.”
Oliver’s lips quirked up. “You love that about me?”
Aiden blanched. “I didn’t mean . . . Well, I mean, I meant it, but I didn’t—”
Oliver giggled, and Aiden made a series of inarticulate squawking noises.
“That’s so mean, Oliver. I didn’t think you had a mean bone in your body.”
Oliver shrugged. “In my defense, you walked right into that.”
They sat for another moment, breathing quietly together. Oliver took Aiden’s hand and brushed his thumb over it, trying to work up the nerve to kiss him. To his surprise, Aiden beat him to it. He leaned over in his seat, and Oliver met him halfway. It wasn’t a deep kiss, or a long one, but the potency of it left Oliver dizzy.
When Aiden broke away, he was panting slightly. “Good night, Oliver.”
“Good night,” Oliver replied as he tangled his free hand in Aiden’s curls and pulled him in again.
It was several minutes before Oliver actually got out of the car. Aiden didn’t drive away until Oliver had unlocked the front door, waved goodbye, and disappeared inside.
Oliver leaned against the closed door and let out a long breath. Stressed as he was about the whole situation, he felt better now that they’d talked about it. They could nip this in the bud. He was sure of it.
Pushing off the door like a springboard, he made his way through the darkened house. He found his dad sitting in the living room in his old recliner, reading a book by the light of a lamp.
He looked up when Oliver entered the room. “Hey, kiddo. You’re home kinda late.”
“I went to see a movie. We’re not having another family dinner, are we?”
“No, it’s going to be quiet tonight.” Dad seemed to sense his exhaustion, because he offered up a way out of the conversation. “Going to your room?”
“Yeah. See you at breakfast. Love you.”
“You too.”
Despite the early hour, Oliver went directly to bed. He slept so hard, it seemed to him that all he did was close his eyes, and suddenly his alarm was blaring. He turned it off and stretched until his joints popped. The sound of talking and banging around reached him from the kitchen, which meant some of his family had already arrived. He moved through his morning routine slowly, relishing the last few moments of peace he had left.
When he could delay no longer, he emerged from his room and found his uncles making breakfast while his father sat at the table and read the newspaper aloud. Oliver was preparing himself for yet another drunken brunch, when he looked around the kitchen. There wasn’t a beer in sight. Uncle Marcus was roaring with laughter while Uncle Charlie tried and failed to flip a single, hopelessly burned pancake. Dad was egging them on. It seemed . . . normal.
Uncle Marcus spotted him and wiped a tear from his eyes. “Morning, Oliver.”
“Morning.” Oliver wandered over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. “Need help making breakfast?”
“I’ll say.” Uncle Charlie dropped the skillet onto the stove and wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Clearly, I can’t be trusted with this. You any good with a spatula?”
“I like to think so.”
“Then by all means.” Uncle Charlie dumped the burned pancake in the trash and waved at the bowl of batter. “We’ll repay you with the spinach omelets I’d planned to make next.”
Oliver took over, making a dozen sand-dollar-sized golden-brown pancakes. His uncles ate them as fast as he could get them out of the pan, raving as if they were juicy steaks. When the batter ran out, they commandeered the frying pan to make the aforementioned omelets. All the while, Dad sipped coffee and watched them with a rare smile on his face.
Afterward, the uncles helped clean up before they declared they had to be at work. Oliver saw them to the door and waved while they drove off. All in all, it was the most pleasant family encounter he’d had since he’d arrived back in Irvington. Had something changed?
He mulled it over as he wandered back into the kitchen. Dad had gotten up and was pouring himself another cup of coffee.
He glanced over when Oliver walked in. “Much better, right?”
Oliver stopped halfway through lifting his own mug to his lips. “What do you mean?”
“Your uncles. They were much better behaved, right?”
“Um, yeah. I suppose they were. But why—”
“I know all young people think their parents are out of touch, but—” Dad shrugged “—I like to think I’m a little more observant than that.”
Oliver swallowed. “Huh?”
“I noticed what you were doing. Missing dinners with the family. Spending all your time over at the Kingsmans’ house. Excusing yourself to your room. It was like when your mother and I were going through the divorce. You needed to escape a lot back then too.”
Oliver started to say something, but Dad cut him off. “You’re not in trouble. I am. I should have done something sooner, but I guess I wanted to act like everything was fine. I had a talk with your uncles last night while you were out.”
“What’d you say?” Oliver could only imagine the fuel this could give to their family gossip mill.
“I told them there’d be no more late-night poker games over here. No day drinking on their days off. And I told them to stop acting like tough guys around you. I gave them an ultimatum: get over the fact that Oliver is gay, or you won’t be allowed over here anymore.”
Oliver’s chest tightened with emotion. “How’d they take that?”
“There was a lot of macho posturing at first, but . . . kiddo, you know they love you, right? It took them all of five minutes to cave.”
“Wow, Dad, I . . .” Oliver wasn’t sure how to express the relief he felt. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”
“Well, you know.” Dad shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I want you to want to spend time here. I don’t get to see you all year, so when you run off every chance you get . . . it hurts.”
Cold fingers grabbed Oliver’s lungs and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I understand, I swear. I’d want to be off spending time with my friends too.” He cleared his throat. “But things are going to be different now, all right? We’re having dinner with the family tonight. You can see for yourself. And be ready to listen to your cousin Susie talk about her pregnancy, because if I have to one more time, I’m going to be halfway to a gynecology degree.”
Oliver laughed. “I’ll be at dinner. I don’t have anything planned anyway.” He paused, wondering how far he could push his luck. “Things between me and the twins are kinda weird at the moment.”
“Oh?” Dad hesitated, as if he were bracing himself. “Wanna talk about it?”
Oliver had never talked about boys with his father before. This might be scarring for them both. But then, Dad had made it through a whole talk about feelings without flinching. Maybe Oliver should give him a chance.
“I should warn you, I’m having boy troubles.” He sucked in a breath. “Feel free to run screaming.”
Dad grimaced but didn’t back down. “Well, I’ve had my fair share of dating disasters, and I’m not even talking about your mother. I might be able to help.”
Oliver relaxed. “That’d be great.”
They moved into the living room. Dad claimed his chair while Oliver took a spot on the couch. Once there, he paused, uncertain of how to begin this conversation.
Dad spared him the trouble. He cradled his coffee mug in his hands, staring at it instead of Oliver. “Your boy troubles and your twin troubles wouldn’t happen to be linked, would they?”
“You caught me. I kinda have a thing for one of them, and it’s caused some issues.”
Dad looked at him sidelong. “It’s not Max, is it?”
“No.”
“Thank God. Nothing against the kid, and lord knows I haven’t seen him in years, but I remember the mouth he had on him. Always talked at top volume too.”
Oliver laughed. “That hasn’t changed much, though add in near-constant swearing. Anyway, no worries. I’m interested in Aiden.”
“What’s the problem? Does he not like you back? Is he straight?” Dad’s expression grew fierce. “If those boys are giving you shit for being gay, I’ll go down there right now, and—”
“No, no.” Oliver waved him off. “Mind your blood pressure. Aiden is gay too, and he likes me back.”
“Huh. Well, if you have to date someone, you could do a lot worse. He was always a smart kid, and his parents are decent folk.”
“I thought you weren’t fond of Kim and Roger.”
It was Dad’s turn to wave him off. “I only said that to rile your mom up. Although, I do think they’re a little too perfect. Kind of Stepford Wives, if you ask. But that’s probably the jealousy talking.”
“You’re jealous of the Kingsmans?”
Dad eyed him over the lip of his coffee mug. “Aren’t you?”
Touché.
Oliver was tempted to delve into that a bit more, but he didn’t want to get sidetracked. “Aiden and I aren’t a couple quite yet, FYI. I’d like to be, but things have been weird between him and his brother. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Why are things weird?”
“Apparently, the twins have some issues, and then when Max picked a fight yesterday, everything sort of boiled over. At first, I thought Max was acting out because he felt excluded, but now I think he might be jealous of me and Aiden.”
“Wait, jealous as in, he wants to date you? His twin brother’s boyfriend? Sounds like a soap opera.”
“No, Max is straight, as far as I know. It’s more like he’s jealous of me for stealing his brother away.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated, as you can tell. I told Aiden to talk to Max and work it out. Hopefully he will, sooner rather than later.”
“Can I give you some fatherly advice?”
Oliver leaned forward. “Please. I need it.”
“The people you love most on this planet—the people you’re closest to—are the ones who can hurt you the most. More than any random stranger on the street. They know where all your soft spots are, and in moments of anger, people can be vicious. It’s a sad fact—” he looked away, as if lost in thought “—but it’s true.”
Oliver swallowed. Is he thinking about Mom right now?
Dad seemed to come back to himself. “If Max and Aiden are out of sorts, they need to fix it now, before it has a chance to fester. Two brothers . . . and twins no less . . . I can imagine what a knockdown, drag-out fight between them would look like, and it’s not pretty.”
“I don’t want that to happen, but what can I do?”
“If it were me, I wouldn’t go near that ticking time bomb until some progress has been made. If you’re right and Max is jealous of you, then hanging around him is only going to rub salt in the wound. Aiden will be much more motivated to talk things out if you’re not around to distract him.”
Oliver scratched his cheek. “You want me to give Aiden an ultimatum? Tell him I’m not coming over until things are cool between him and Max?”
“I wouldn’t do anything that drastic. People don’t like ultimatums. I would give them some space. Maybe let a few calls go to voice mail. They’re smart boys; it won’t take them long to figure out why you’re being distant, and then I’m sure everything will work itself out.”
Oliver’s mouth turned down in a thoughtful way. “Hm. That’s solid advice. Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re welcome, though you don’t have to sound so surprised. Keep in mind, I’m getting something out of this too. With you ignoring the twins, I might actually get to see you.” He winked. “Well, this was much less scarring than I thought it would be. I survived my first boy talk. How’d I do?”
Oliver chuckled. “You did great, Dad. Perfect score.”
“Glad to hear it. Fun as this has been, I gotta get down to the office. I’ve come in late a few too many times under the pretense of ‘settling in.’ If I do it again, Mrs. Perring will skin me.”
Dad exited in the direction of the master bedroom, leaving Oliver alone to mull over his advice. It seemed simple enough: make himself scarce while the twins dealt with their issues. But then, he hadn’t gone a day without talking to them since they’d reconnected. His fingers were already itching to pull out his phone and text Aiden good morning.
He’d have to be strong. This was for their own good, and his too.
As if cued by his thoughts, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Aiden, wishing him a good morning. Oliver put it away without responding and busied himself washing the breakfast dishes. By the time he waved goodbye to Dad from the front door, he had another text.
What are your plans for the day?
It felt rude to ignore Aiden like this. Oliver’s resolve was already wavering when another text popped up. This one, however, was in the group chat with both brothers, which hadn’t been touched since the fight.
It was from Max. I’m going to lunch with a friend who got into town yesterday. You guys are welcome to join. She’s picking me up at one.
Oliver studied the message. That sounded civil enough. Was there a chance he and Aiden had already made up? Oliver had expected them to need at least a day to cool off, talk, probably fight some more, and then hug it out.
He was considering breaking his vow of silence—if only to ask for an update—when Aiden replied in the group chat.
No thanks. Have fun with your friend.
So much for that.
Not a minute later, Aiden texted Oliver privately.
With Max out of the house, we’ll have the place to ourselves.
Oliver’s resolve made worrisome creaking noises beneath the weight of that temptation. Don’t give in. Aiden is blowing Max off to spend time with you. Isn’t that the root of this whole problem?
Oliver put his phone on vibrate and stuck it in a kitchen cabinet. Out of sight, out of mind. He felt strangely naked without it, and without the Kingsmans, for that matter. The past two weeks of his life had revolved around them. What had he done before?
There was one thing he definitely needed to do. Go for a jog. He hadn’t had a proper workout in far too long.
He changed into his athletic wear and went for a long, vigorous run. The exercise made his unused muscles scream and cleared his mind of other distractions, leaving him plenty of room to dwell on his current predicament.
When he got home, he showered, changed into normal clothes, and attempted to watch TV. That lasted for all of ten minutes before he came across a romantic comedy and decided TV was dangerous. He’d brought some books with him, but he only made it a few pages into one of them before a love-angle between a girl and two brothers made his head spin.
What else was there to do? If he had his phone, he could waste some time on Instagram or check his email. Maybe his school sent him something important . . .
No. He was going to be strong.
He made himself some lunch, cleaned up the living room, and then took another crack at the books he’d brought. He managed to distract himself for another hour or so, but by the time afternoon had set in, he was crawling out of his skin.
It’s been hours. Surely there’s been some sort of progress.
Oliver retrieved his phone. He had three more texts from Aiden and a missed call. He texted him back faster than he ever had in his life: Have you talked to your brother yet?
Just hitting Send was a huge relief. He hadn’t realized how used he’d gotten to having the twins in his life. At the end of the summer, when it was time to go home, what was he going to do?
Aiden texted back before Oliver could stumble down that rabbit hole. No, I’m sorry. I was exhausted last night, so I went straight to bed. Max slept until noon, as per usual, and then he went to lunch with his friend. I barely saw him. Come over? The house is empty, and I miss you.
Oliver’s willpower was stretched so thin, it was translucent. All summer, he’d been vying for alone time with Aiden, and now that he had it, he couldn’t take advantage of it. If Max came home and found them together—hanging out without him yet again—it would exacerbate everything.
Oliver put his phone back in the kitchen cabinet. “Being a good person is the worst.”
He marched into his room and threw himself facedown on his bed. This was going to be the longest day of his life.
It’ll be worth it, though. When this is all over, and there’s no more drama or hurt feelings, it’ll be so worth it.
Oliver read the same page of a book twelve times before he wandered into the kitchen for some water. He was halfway through filling a glass when he heard a faint but persistent vibrating sound. It was coming from a familiar cabinet.
Oliver stared at it, eyes widening. “Is it calling out to me?” He opened the cabinet, and sure enough, his phone was buzzing like an agitated beehive. One glance at the screen told him what he’d already suspected: Aiden was blowing up his phone.
Would temptations never cease? The call brought up the photo Oliver had assigned to Aiden’s contact info: a selfie they’d taken at the arcade. They were standing cheek to cheek with big, carefree smiles plastered on their faces.
Seeing it again made Oliver miss Aiden so much, it hurt like a bone-deep ache. He slammed the cabinet shut with unnecessary force and plodded back to his room, intent on hurling himself onto his bed again. He’d just walked through the door when something rapped against his window. He peered at it, curious, and nearly jumped out of his skin.
Aiden was standing outside, fist raised to knock on the glass.
Oliver blinked owlishly at him. Was he hallucinating? Had he somehow conjured Aiden here through the power of his thoughts?
Aiden knocked again, dismissing the hallucination theory. He was real all right.
The sound jolted Oliver into action. He ran over and threw his window open. “Aiden?”
“Oliver, thank God. Are you all right?”
Oliver was too bewildered to answer. “What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t picking up, so I came over.” Aiden’s phone was still in hand. “I knocked, and then when you didn’t come to the door, I panicked. I’m so glad you’re all right. I was starting to think something had happened to you. You’ve never not answered me before.”
Oliver must not have heard Aiden knock. He looked him over. Aiden’s eyes were wild, and he was flushed, like he’d been running. He really must’ve panicked.
“How did you know which window is mine?”
“I didn’t. I looked in them all.”
“Jesus.” Oliver stepped back. “Come in.”
Aiden hooked a leg over the ledge and followed it with his head and torso until he was standing in Oliver’s bedroom. He looked around at the blue-and-white-striped walls and the open suitcase on the floor. “I have to admit, this isn’t what I expected.”
“I didn’t get a say in the decorating. I promise my room back in the city has more personality.”
“I believe you.”
They stood together in awkward silence. As happy as Oliver was to see him, now that the initial shock had worn off, he realized this ruined his whole avoid-the-Kingsmans plan.
“Why are you here exactly?” he asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you. But coming over here because I didn’t respond to you for half a day seems a little extreme.”
“Yeah, I agree. We’re in serious trouble.”
Oliver looked him over. “Are we? Why?”
“Because not seeing you all morning and afternoon was hard. So much harder than I thought it would be.” Aiden stepped closer, eyes bright and so, so blue. “Was it hard for you too?”
Oliver couldn’t lie when Aiden looked at him like that. “It was. I hated every minute of it. Isn’t that weird? We were apart for ten years with no problem, but now . . .”
“It’s because things are different now.” Aiden reached up and lightly skimmed his fingers along Oliver’s jaw. “Now that you’re back in my life, I don’t ever want to be apart from you again.”
His words tugged Oliver closer. He took a step forward, despite the lack of space between them already, and the air crackled. “Aiden, what are we going to do? When summer ends, that’s it. Who knows when we’ll get to see each other again.”
Aiden glanced down. “I know. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”
“Me too. But we can’t keep pretending we’re in some happy summer bubble that’s never going to burst.” He sucked in a breath that felt like little shards of glass. “Right now, we’re on the precipice of something. If we go any further, we could end up getting really hurt. If we date, it’d be long-distance for at least a year while we’re in school. There will be times when we won’t get to see each other for weeks.”
“I know,” Aiden said again, his voice soft and pained. “There are so many complications, so many things that could go wrong. It’s frightening, but . . . doesn’t it feel right to you?”
Oliver swallowed. “What do you mean by ‘it’?”
“This.” Aiden slid his hand into Oliver’s hair, and the feel of Aiden’s fingers dragging against his scalp made Oliver weak. “What if nothing goes wrong? What if all this happened for a reason, and we’re right where we’re supposed to be? Isn’t it worth the risk?”
Oliver knew he should pump the brakes. He had real concerns and issues that needed to be addressed. But Aiden was looking at him with such pure longing, such real and intense need. It was impossible not to get totally sucked in. Was dating your best friend always this complicated?
If there was one thing Oliver knew for certain, it was that he didn’t want to hurt Aiden. He’d leave now if it meant sparing him the heartache.
Aiden was watching him, probably waiting for an answer to his questions. Oliver couldn’t bring himself to say no—it was too much of a lie—so he said the next best thing. “We shouldn’t. We’re rushing into this. If we were able to wait for ten years, we should be able to wait until we’ve figured things out.”
“We should be able to, yeah. But can we?” Aiden tilted his head, and a few of his curls spilled over his brow. “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you say. But the USS Take Things Slowly sailed the second you walked back into my life. If we broke things off now, we’d still get hurt. We’re already in too deep, and I think we both know it. What are you really afraid of?”
I’m scared of how badly I want this. How badly I want you. And the power that gives you to completely devastate me. But at the same time, there’s no one I’d sooner trust with my heart.
Oliver exhaled hard and pressed his face into Aiden’s warm touch. “How can you be so sure about this?”
“There are some things I just know. I know your eyes look green, but they have a ring of brown right around the irises. I know you’re scared of lightning but not thunder, and that you hate mushrooms. And I know, with complete and utter certainty, that if things don’t work out between us, we’ll still be friends. Like we’ve always been. You know that too, right?”
Oliver answered without hesitation. “Yes.”
Aiden closed the last of the distance between them. “Then, for as long as we can, I want to be with you. I want to spend as much time with you as possible, to have as much of you as I can take.”
Oliver shuddered, closing his eyes, and was not at all surprised when Aiden’s lips brushed against his. He chased the sensation, tilting his head up until he got the perfect, firm contact he’d been craving since the moment Aiden had climbed through his window.
The kiss grew heated within seconds, with Oliver grabbing a handful of Aiden’s soft shirt, and Aiden moaning against his mouth. Oliver couldn’t seem to get close enough to him, even as he pressed Aiden back against his desk.
The furniture hit the wall with a loud thump, dislodging several books, but neither of them seemed to care. Aiden’s hands found their way into his hair again, and when Aiden’s fingernails raked down the nape of his neck, Oliver saw stars.
“Aiden,” he moaned as arousal flooded into him. “I—”
Aiden nodded, mouth open and breaths coming in pants. “Me too.”
Instinctively, Oliver shifted until he could slip one of his thighs between Aiden’s legs. The moment he did, he realized how hard he was, from so little contact. And, more importantly, Aiden was too.
Aiden seemed to notice it the same second Oliver did, because he broke the kiss and pulled away enough to look Oliver in the eye. Something unspoken passed between them, and suddenly, Oliver’s whole body was hot. He claimed Aiden’s lips again, this time with intent.
It occurred to him, as if through a fog, that for once there was nothing stopping them from having sex. Besides their stolen rooftop kiss, they’d gotten so few chances to be physical with each other. But right now, they were in an empty house, and the ache in Oliver was growing with every frantic surge of Aiden’s mouth against his.
Oliver leaned back, and Aiden whined like he couldn’t handle the three inches of space between them. He stopped, however, when Oliver reached down, grabbed his own shirt, and yanked it over his head. He tossed it to the side and turned back to Aiden, searching his face for a reaction.
Aiden’s mouth was hanging open, possibly because he was breathing hard, possibly from awe. His kiss-reddened lips were a splash of beautiful color on his fair face.
Oliver waited for a response with bated breath. Aiden’s eyes roved down his chest. Oliver was confident in his body—he worked hard to be—but he’d never felt so acutely vulnerable. Yet safe at the same time. If Aiden didn’t want this, Oliver still knew the feelings between them were real.
As it happened, Oliver had no reason to worry about rejection. When Aiden looked up from his scenic trip down Oliver’s body, his beautiful eyes had been completely overtaken by his pupils. He looked hungry in a way Oliver had never seen before. It was hopelessly hot, knowing he’d taken this shy, cerebral man and turned him into a carnal thing.
Aiden’s voice was rough. “Is your dad home?”
The air between them sizzled with obscene intent.
Oliver almost couldn’t draw the breath to answer. “He’s at work.”
“Perfect.”
With that, Aiden kissed him with such passion, such raw need, Oliver thought it might consume him.
And he wanted it to.