He ended up with a handful of paperback instead—the paperback he’d snagged off Aubrey on their last road trip together. He’d never finished it.
Well, now was as good a time as any. He dug out the chocolate bar too and let himself get lost for a few hours.
Coming home to an empty apartment well after midnight felt almost like a repeat of the night before. It was cold and blustery outside. Nate could hear the wind howling, and the light from the windows of his apartment was enough to illuminate the swirling snowflakes. It would have been a nice night to curl up in front of the gas fireplace with Aubrey, if he’d been home.
Between his agitation with work and his swirling emotions about Aubrey, Nate thought he’d have a hard time falling asleep. But he must have been exhausted, because he was out almost the moment his head hit the pillow.
He woke up to sounds in his apartment.
Aubrey must have let himself in. Nate rolled out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt and pajama pants over his boxers. He normally wouldn’t have bothered, but he felt naked enough knowing he was going to go out there and see Aubrey and inevitably ask what he was doing talking to people from Cirque.
Not that he couldn’t talk to whomever he wanted. Nate just would have liked if he mentioned the potential of moving across the country.
Time to face the music either way.
Aubrey stood at the stove, poking at a frittata that smelled fragrant with tomatoes and basil. When Nate came in, he lifted his head and smiled… but the smile didn’t last. “Hey,” he said. “Rough night?”
“Rough weekend.” Damn it, he’dmissedAubrey these last two nights. That just compounded the shittiness. Sometime in the past few months, Aubrey had become the person he talked to when he needed to work things out.
“Is this about the show?” he asked, prodding the frittata again. Then he experimentally jiggled the frying pan handle and, in one smooth movement, flipped the whole thing. It landed perfectly. “I watched last night.”
“Painful for you?” The Canucks had ended up losing 7-2.
“Not as bad as it was for you.”
“Yeah, well.” Nate grimaced. Where would he even start complaining? And could he even vent to Aubrey? That didn’t seem fair when Aubrey’d lost his job. Nate didn’t want to talk about his work anyway. He wanted to talk about Aubrey’s.
Aubrey turned back to the breakfast, and Nate helped himself to a seat. Aubrey had already poured orange juice, and the coffeepot was full, even though Aubrey only drank his coffee from a can like a heathen.
There were fresh strawberries in a bowl on the counter, and Nate popped one into his mouth—surprisingly tasty considering it was December. He’d have to ask about Aubrey’s fruit hookup before he moved to Vegas.
Aubrey cleared his throat and filled Nate’s coffee cup. Then he slid a plated half a frittata in front of him. “Have you thought about what you’ll do if the show doesn’t work out?”
Frowning, Nate reached for his fork as Aubrey sat opposite him with his own breakfast. “Why wouldn’t it work out?” Did Aubrey know something he didn’t?
“You don’t seem very happy with the direction the show is going,” Aubrey fished.
“It’s just growing pains,” Nate said. He knew, not even deep down, that it was a lie… but he couldn’t figure out why he said it. “I’ll adjust.”
“Right.” Aubrey cut a piece of frittata, but he didn’t eat it. It just sat there on his fork, getting cold.
Nate’s frittata would suffer no such indignity, he vowed, and shoved a large bite in his mouth, only to nearly burn himself.
God, he was a mess. He put his fork down. Time to face his problems head-on like a grown-up. “Were you ever going to tell me about the Cirque thing?”
Aubrey’s knife clattered against the plate. “What?”
“I know they made you an offer. The gossip is all over the rink. I felt pretty stupid that I was the last to know.”
Aubrey’s eyes were wild now. Clearly he had not expected Nate to take this line of conversation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”
Ouch.“Obviously,” Nate said, not bothering to disguise the venom in his voice.
“That came out wrong.” Aubrey flushed. “I was going to tell you. I haven’t even decided if I’m going to go yet.”
I haven’t decided.
“Well, you let me know what youdecide.” Fuck it, Nate should have known better than to expect more from Aubrey. He was so tired of the men he loved deciding his future for him without his input or—and he wasn’t sure if this was worse—seemingly not caring if Nate was part of their future at all. This was twice now he’d had his heart stomped on. What was he doing wrong?
