Page 23 of Say It Again

They stood in a staring contest for a long several seconds. Well, Aaron was in a staring contest with Daniel’s stomach, and Daniel was trying not to eat it up like the seventh dinner roll he secretly wanted. Every day, he moved his body in unimaginable ways. Even if he did have a bit of a featherweight frame, he was still etched with lean, functional muscle. It was probably shocking to see him shirtless for the first time.

“Hey.” He snapped his fingers. “Excuse me, sir. Eyes up here.”

Aaron’s gaze bounced up.

“Do you think this is some sort of a game, Aaron?” He squinted as he held a palm to his chest. “We are supposed to be taking things slowly.”

Aaron opened his mouth and closed it again, almost abashed looking.

“You think I’m some kind of a floozy for whom you can just buy flowers, and cook dinner, and treat like a literal prince? Well, I’m not a prince, Aaron.” He pointed a finger to his chest and dropped to an indignant whisper. “I’m a Midwesterner.”

Aaron dropped his chin and chuckled. “Ahh, my mistake.”

“Yeah, it is your mistake, because I don’t appreciate”—he reached both arms up to the ceiling and twirled toward the kitchen—“you ogling the way you do. It’s obscene.”

“God, I’m the worst.”

“And, for the love of Zeus, if you could please give me some space?” He stopped mid twirl to brush against Aaron’s body, then continued in a slinky, snaking walk around him. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable.”

“I’m sorry you feel uncomfortable here,” Aaron said as Daniel draped himself back over the counter like he was sunbathing. “It’s clearly insufferable for you. Do you need to borrow something to wear? Would that help?”

His spine instantly snapped straight at the thought of getting to see the bedroom. “What a gentleman. This way, then.”

He followed Aaron into the bedroom, which looked precisely how he’d pictured it with all the clean dove grays and live edge woods and oh, the scent. Geez, the scent. It smelled like vanilla bean, orris butter, and expensive suede. The sheets probably smelled like that. What if he just crawled in for a moment—? No.

They were old-fashioned gentlemen. Or Aaron was an old-fashioned gentleman. Daniel was a Midwestern prince who was trying.

“This is stunning,” he said, gazing around, working his arms through a white V-neck that Aaron handed him. “Did you design this space?”

“Not just this. All of it. The whole place.” Aaron grinned as he unearthed some gray sweatpants from a drawer. “That’s my dancing. It makes me happy.”

“Aww, do you mind if I explore a bit?” He quickly stepped into the sweatpants. “It’s just so lovely.”

“Of course not. The lamb ragù isn’t ready yet.”

“Okay, well, that’s kind of long and complicated for a safeword, sweetie.” He patted Aaron’s chest. “We’ll work on that.”

He started on a meandering stroll around the apartment, gliding his fingertips over a table that looked like petrified wood and a chair that looked like it was from the Ming dynasty. He hadn’t really noticed the attention to detail when he arrived, but maybe because it was so uncrowded, as if each piece of furniture had been selected carefully and not acquired through hand-me-downs or left outside by a dumpster like most of Daniel’s stuff. It was half Trinidadian yoga studio and half Cubist mansion, if both of those things could coexist inside a cloud. The most stunning part had to be the floor-length windows through which neon city light poured, illuminating a huddle of green houseplants.

Daniel touched the leaves of a few different vines. One plant stood out among the rest: a bonsai tree with an ivory tassel earring dangling from one of its branches. He thumbed the delicate beads. “What’s this?”

Aaron looked up from dicing a tomato. “Oh, it’s a bonsai tree.”

“Yeah, I can see that, but why is it wearing jewelry?”

“The earring was my mom’s.”

Was.

“I’m training the tree. That one’s called a semi-cascade. It was her favorite.”

He sucked his lip. “She’s passed?”

“She was sick for a long time.” Aaron didn’t look up from the cutting board. “Growing up, she had a sunroom where she always had, like, two or three bonsai going. They were beautiful. She was beautiful. She would try to teach my brother and me how to prune them, but we were too young to care. I wish I had cared a little more.”

Daniel’s heart squeezed. He couldn’t imagine life without his mom. Even if he only got to see her once a month because he’d moved to the city and she’d stayed in the burbs, it was still nonnegotiable that he could see her whenever he wanted. “You care now.” He kept his voice mild and smile sweet. “If you ask me, that counts.”

“Thank you.” Aaron blinked his striking eyes, the being behind them melting into a warm, golden puddle. “I still think about her. I still miss her.”

---