Page 49 of Aaron
“I’m not.” Leah shook her head. “I like it here. I’m happy. And what I want for you now is for you to be happy. And to be my brother again.”
Aaron stared helplessly at his sister. Because if she had needed him if she had been miserable or even just neutral here, he would have moved heaven and earth to get her back. But that wasn’t the case. She didn’t need him as a parental figure. She had that already.
And they were, he had to be honest, far more equipped to deal with that role than he was. They could do it without reservation, with their whole hearts, and could Aaron say that? The only reason he wasn’t jumping for joy was that he had already given up what he could have had, and now he had nothing …
It was at this point that, just like in that old saying, a window opened. Leah had shut the door, had told him, gently but firmly, that she wanted him as a brother, but that she wanted to stay here and not move in with him. Seconds later, Aaron’s phone beeped mechanically at him, and when he glanced down, he saw the window opened.
By Brad. Maybe. The text was brief, businesslike, just saying that he wanted to see Aaron. Probably just wanted to wrap loose ends up, but it was a chance. Wasn’t it? Or was he grasping at straws?
“What is it?” Leah asked as Aaron stared down at his phone. Slowly, though, Aaron raised his eyes and fixed his gaze on his little sister. He had to be sure. One final time, because letting go after years and years of holding on as tightly as he could wasn’t exactly easy.
“Are you sure? Really, completely, one hundred percent sure? If you don’t think about me at all, do you still want to stay here?”
Leah didn’t hesitate. Not for a second, and even though Aaron was looking, he didn’t see any doubt at all in her eyes.
“I’m sure. A hundred percent. A thousand percent. I’m happy. Go be happy, too.”
With those words, she released him. Not fully, of course, because she was still family, and they would still always have each other, but she would be okay. And that was the greatest gift that anyone could have ever given him.
“It’s Brad,” Aaron admitted, and his sister shot him a wink and a grin that was far too knowing.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
What, indeed? Damned if Aaron could think of a single thing.
In seconds, he had the reply typed out, and he closed his eyes as he sent it. He watched as it disappeared off into the ether, into the space between his phone and Brad’s, and wondered if Brad had received it yet.
It was done. He couldn’t take it back. Would he if he could?
Okay. Tonight?
* * *
This was his big chance. Maybe the last one that he had because in a few short days, Aaron wouldn’t be a member of the Lost Boys. He wouldn’t have the right to be around them, not officially, and he wasn’t even sure what was going on with Brad, or with the band.
But the auditions hadn’t gone well, Aaron knew, just from the time he’d spent watching them. But Brad had wanted, so very badly, to manage Aaron’s solo career. Wasn’t it possible, even if not highly probable, that Brad would still be willing to consider it?
Of course, all of that had been before Aaron had cruelly broken up with him in a way that still made him wince to think about. He knew that Brad was a private person, and he knew, too, that it had been probably the worst way to handle things. Still, he had to, at least, try to make amends.
Everything was ready, or as ready as Aaron could make it. He had picked the venue, the same restaurant where they had had what had turned into their first date. He was dressed more appropriately this time, in dress pants and a blue-violet shirt that the very helpful salesman at the store had told him matched his eyes.
Nor was that all that he had done to prepare. He had a sheaf of papers beside him and a promise from, well, a friend, for lack of a better word. He had everything that he needed to try to make this work if only Brad hadn’t completely given up.
He needed to be ready for that possibility. He knew that. He, of course, hoped that Brad would be willing to listen, but if he wasn’t, then Aaron would know that he had done his best. Maybe that would provide some small comfort.
Aaron was there early, half an hour early, and his fingers drummed nervously on the table as he waited. Thankfully, Brad didn’t keep him waiting. He was early, too, as Aaron had half expected him to be. Just one thing, one among many, that they had in common, their desire to be very early instead of even a little late, and all Aaron had to do was show Brad that, and make him see that it could be worth it.
“Aaron,” Brad murmured, his face smooth and his eyes opaque, utterly hiding anything that was going on behind them. Every inch the tall, dark, handsome businessman, just getting one last meeting out of the way.
Was that all that Aaron was to Brad now? Well, he supposed he was lucky that they weren’t outright enemies, with what Aaron had pulled. But the coldness stuck in an icy lump in the back of Aaron’s throat, and whatever words he had been practicing just froze solid there.
So Aaron did the only thing that he could think of to do, the only thing that came to mind. He gripped the sheaf of papers tightly enough to crumple the edges and handed them silently over to Brad. Those papers. They had been through a lot since Brad had originally had them drawn up, but if Brad wanted to, they could come to a rest right here and now.
“Aaron?” Brad asked, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something, some emotion, in those golden eyes. But before Aaron could identify what it was, it was gone. Anger, irritation, hope, happiness, it could have been any of those or a thousand more, assuming that Aaron hadn’t just imagined it completely. “Aaron, this is a contract.”
Aaron simply nodded, then gripped the glass of ice water and sipped at it, hoping to dislodge whatever was in his throat. This was his big stand. He had to say something, he had to, or he was going to lose this chance forever.
It was a contract. It wasthecontract, the one that Brad had had his lawyer draft up over six months ago. The contract, the long one, which Brad had offered him everything. The world. And Aaron hadn’t been free to accept it then, but he was now.
