Page 47 of Aaron
When Brad looked around and gazed into the eyes of the other men sitting around him, he realized that Ken had said what they were all thinking. His first impulse was to deny it, to refuse to have that sort of weakness. But refusing to have it wasn’t actually helping him, well, not have it.
“I guess …” Brad’s voice trailed off, and he glanced around, but the only people around were people that he trusted. And how strange was that? Before this job, he could have counted the people that he trusted on the finger of, well, one finger. Lara. That was it, and that was only because he knew he could trust her to act always in her own self-interest. He had always been the same way.
“I guess I’ve never been in love before. It’s taking some time to adjust.”
The fact that he would admit to that meant that he trusted these men. Or maybe that he needed to kill them, he mused to himself, smirking a little bit when he saw the surprise echoed in all eyes.
“Why can’t you guys be together?” It was Lance who spoke then, romantic Lance, who still probably believed in fairy tales and castles and unicorns and true love and happy endings. Why shouldn’t he? He’d found his own, after all.
“Aaron dumped me,” Brad made the words as cold and hard as he could, trying to impress upon himself how true they were so that he didn’t give himself any hope. “Remember? You were there at the time.”
“That’s just Aaron being Aaron,” Justin spoke up, one of the few times that Brad had even heard his voice. To say that the songwriter was the quiet type was an understatement, and he seemed to trust almost as reluctantly as Brad did, but Brad had passed some sort of test, it seemed, with Justin.
“If Aaron did want you back, would you do it?” Darien asked, and Brad tried to give that some objective thought, to weigh the pros and cons. To do all of the sensible things that he usually had no problem doing.
“Yes.” Brad’s mouth opened before he even got into making a list in his head before he could add up the points for and against into neat little rows. The word came out before he could stop it, and he dropped his gaze down to his hands, saw the way they clenched around each other in his lap, so tightly that the knuckles had turned a cold, yellowish white.
Because for once in his life, it wasn’t about logic. It wasn’t about what made sense, or what was safest for his heart, which was usually the same thing. It wasn’t about keeping himself safe at all.
It was about what he wanted, and that was Aaron. If Aaron wanted to make it work, Brad would try, even though he usually wasn’t the sort of glutton for punishment who would take someone back who had broken his heart.
Only maybe his heart wasn’t broken. It had been bruised, no doubt, and it still throbbed with a hot, sickening, beat that went along with the beating of his heart, but it was still whole, and the walls that Aaron had torn down were still gone. Hope raised its head again, making itself known, though Brad had thought that ruthless, relentless creature dead and gone when Aaron had pushed him out.
“So go see him,” Noah said, his voice soft and quiet, the sort of voice that had people leaning forward to hear what it was that he had to say. Funny how it was the quiet ones, Justin and Noah, who appealed to him most, who he was most willing to listen to, though maybe that made perfect sense because of the way he was himself.
“I don’t think he’s interested,” Brad managed, speaking around a lump in his throat that he knew was that wretched creature, hope, trying to rise up, to elate him, just waiting to break him if he let it in.
“You’re still his boss, you know,” Jamie spoke up, a bit of a smirk on his full lips, a look of pure mischief radiating from his face, especially those crystal eyes of his. “You have an excuse to see him whenever you want.”
It was true, wasn’t it? Aaron was technically under contract for a few more days, and Brad was, in fact, his boss. It was funny, in a way, because Brad had always figured that it was him being Aaron’s boss which was the main problem between them.
Wasn’t it possible that it could be the solution, too?
If there was any chance that Aaron was even willing to consider being with him, really being with him, without keeping it secret, then Brad had to give it a try. It was probably for nothing.
Only that wasn’t true. It wouldn’t be for nothing, because even if Aaron told him to take a hike, at least he would know for sure that it was pointless, and he could do his best to move on. Really, even though he was putting himself out there in a way that, if he let himself be completely honest, terrified him, there was no really bad outcome for him.
Not worse than what he was going through.
So he pulled out his phone and sent a text, and he didn’t, oddly, even care that the group of men surrounding him was watching. They were to be trusted, and there would be more time later to enjoy the feel of that. More time later to think about Jamie and Lance, and how he would manage their grand debut.
I would like to meet with you before your contract is up.
There. He had done it. The text was sent, and Brad closed his eyes, his breathing elevated as though he had been working out though all he had been doing was sitting there. The ball was in Aaron’s court, and even though Brad knew, just because of how Aaron was, that it would likely just stay there …
… He still couldn’t help but have hope. That damned, stupid, inconvenient hope.
