When the server brought the check, they looked at each other blankly. Neither of them had won the bet, but usually restaurants back home asked them if they wanted to split it. Apparently they weren’t recognized as work colleagues here, but that was fine. Right? Aubrey was determined it should be fine, so he shrugged and reached for his wallet. “You can get it next time.”
It was stupid. Because until that moment of blank panic, it had felt kind of like a date. Or like Aubrey imagined a date would feel, since he’d never really been on any. The conversation came easily, he felt comfortable, the evening held that undercurrent of attraction that made it feel like anything could happen. The night heldpossibilities.
Except, of course, that Nate wasn’t looking to date anyone. He was happy being single. Aubrey had forced himself to forget about that remark while they were working, but it had sneaked up on him again during dinner, and now it threatened to spoil his evening.
He couldn’t afford to get maudlin. Nate would notice, for one thing.
Nate cracked open his fortune cookie while Aubrey was signing the check. “What’s yours say?”
Aubrey bit off a chunk of crunchy moon-shaped goodness and glanced down at the paper he pulled away. When he’d swallowed, he read aloud, “Work with your destiny. Stop trying to outrun it.” Maybe a little too on the nose, and considering Nate’s recent announcement, it stung. He wasn’t trying to outrun anything anymore. “Yours?”
“Follow the middle path,” Nate recited dutifully. “Neither extreme will make you happy.” He shook his head. “That’s almost creepy, considering our conversation this morning.”
And Aubrey thought his had been too insightful. “Don’t know why I spend all that money on therapy when I could eat fortune cookies instead.”
Though it was late November, the air was pleasant and warm. “You want to walk back?” Aubrey suggested, and then immediately realized how date-like that sounded and had to wipe suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. Nate was pretty oblivious. He’d probably pass it off as an innocent suggestion that they get some exercise. “We’re not gonna get weather like this in Chicago for a while.”
“Yeah, not a bad idea after that.”
The restaurant was in a pseudo industrial area, which kept the walk from feeling romantic, but Aubrey couldn’t help thinking of what it could be like. It was nice, going out to dinner with Nate. Riding in cars with Nate. Even waiting around in airports with Nate was superior to traveling alone, and not just because Nate bought him pastries.
What if he could have that all the time?
“You’re quiet tonight,” Nate commented as they reached the shinier, cleaned-up Channelside.
“Just thinking,” Aubrey answered. Just thinking,Why does my timing suck so bad? Why couldn’t I have met you when you were actually looking for a relationship? What can I do to convince you to give this a shot?
Not that it would matter if he did, probably, because the bigger question was stillWho do I think I’m kidding?
Normally Aubrey would’ve expected his comment to earn him a smart remark. Tonight Nate only cocked his head and glanced at him sidelong. “All right. You want to talk about it?”
Yes.But he couldn’t make himself say the words. “Maybe some other time.”
Chapter Eleven
THE TRIPhome from Tampa was a shitshow.
The first flight got canceled when the aircraft experienced difficulties with its landing gear, leaving the crew stranded in the airport for four hours until the next flight to O’Hare… which was delayed several more hours due to a freak blizzard that had blown in off Lake Michigan.
Even the private lounge couldn’t keep them entertained. Nate broke two hours into the second delay and went for a walk. By the time he returned, Aubrey was slouched on a sofa with a posture that suggested his spine had slithered out his ass and crawled away to die. His paperback, which he’d finished before Nate left, lay discarded on the table.
Nate dropped a new one on the couch next to Aubrey and picked up his castoff. “This any good?”
Aubrey looked down at the book—it was the next in the series he was reading—and then at Nate. “It beats staring at the wall for two more hours.”
He had a point there.
When they finally landed in Chicago, it was close to midnight, the ground was covered in a layer of white, and Nate was wiped. “I’m getting a cab, if you’re going straight back,” he offered as they slogged through the airport.
Aubrey shot him a quizzical and also very tired look, which was fair. Where exactly did Nate think he was going to go after eleven on a Sunday night? Especially when they were supposed to have been home twelve hours ago.
“Stupid question?” Nate asked.
Aubrey waved that off. “I’ll cut you some slack this time since today sucked so bad.”
Nate snorted. “I appreciate it. I’m beginning to think I left my brain in Tampa.”
“At least it won’t get frostbite.”
