Ugh, of course. He was probably a super nice guy if you didn’t try to flirt with him. Now Aubrey felt like even more of an asshole.
He couldn’t even enjoy that Jackson had called himDonut. “Great.”
“So what the hell did you do?”
Aubrey sighed as he stabbed the button for the elevator. “I… may have implied that he needed to… loosen up some.”
This time the pause held a note of definite horror. “Aubrey. What did you say?”
“I said he needed to get laid. On a hot mic with the whole production staff listening in.”
“Jesus. You’re lucky you didn’t get fired.”
Aubrey nodded glumly. The elevator began to climb. “Yeah. That’s what Jess said too.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends in leftover frustration. “He just got under my skin. And in my defense, I mean, can I be honest, Jacks? The man is insanely hot. He shouldnotbe that uptight. Like, does this guy’s husband have his legs glued together or—”
“You’re not helping your case, here, buddy.”
The elevator stopped at his floor, and Aubrey groaned and rubbed at his face as he stepped out. “I know. Anyway. I think the show itself went fine. It was just everything else that was godawful.”
“That’s something, at least. Hey—” Jackson’s voice went indistinct for a handful of moments, and Aubrey could hear a few other people talking in the background.
“Nakamura, let’s go! Fishy says you’re buying!”
“—we’re gonna go out to celebrate, but I’ll hit you up tomorrow after I watch your debut?”
“At least I didn’t fall on my ass doing a triple axel.”
“If you’d done that, I’d be watching it tonight, I promise.”
“Thanks for the support, asshole. Have a drink for me.”
“With a fruity little umbrella.”
That was Jackson’s drink. Aubrey unlocked his apartment. “Go. I’m gonna shower and crash.” Maybe by the time he poured himself into bed, he’d have forgiven himself enough to get some sleep.
NATE WOKEup determined that he’d make it an improvement on the day before. “Could hardly be worse,” he muttered to himself as he stumbled bleary-eyed into the shower. Last night he’d been so hyped up over the divorce, the flight, the show, and not least, his maddening new cohost, that it had taken him ages to fall asleep.
On the upside, his apartment had a great bathroom with a huge shower and fantastic water pressure. Nate had thought more than once that he could spend an hour in it, especially if he had some handsome company.
Nate could hear the words again—someone needs to get laid—and he could imagine Aubrey’s smirking mouth saying them. God, he’d like to wipe the smirk right off that pretty, petty face.
Something stirred in Nate’s groin as he thought about Aubrey’s face, and he froze before he could do anything he’d regret. Lust for his asshole coworker was thelastthing he needed. He turned the temperature a bit cooler and hurried through the rest of his shower. Coffee.Coffeewas what he needed. Coffee and some fresh air.
He knew the perfect location for coffee, and not just coffee now that he was past his PowerPowder and nutrition-plan days. As long as he could control himself enough that his suits fit, he could have an almond croissant or two. Or four.
The cafe was less than two blocks from the building, a totally pleasant walk when the weather was good, and today the sun was shining. A newsstand out front featured a spinner rack of trashy novels. Nate could spend the morning stuffing his face with carbs and his brain with spy stories and he’d feel better by lunchtime.
He accomplished the first two parts of his plan—pastry and coffee to go—without a hitch, but while he was choosing a book, he heard an irritatingly familiar voice.
“Good morning, Roger!”
“Aubrey! I have a new flavor today—cinnamon cappuccino! You want to try?”
“How could I not do the classic iced mocha?” Aubrey said, and Nate heard Aubrey walk down the aisle toward the refrigerator case. He held the copy ofAdventure in Andalusiain front of his face as he ducked behind the newspaper display. He waited there like a coward—no, like someone healthily avoiding conflict before the first meal of the day—while Aubrey and Roger discussed the apparent virtues of cold canned coffees. Nate shuddered as he tried to sip his latte quietly.
After what seemed like a ridiculous amount of time, Aubrey left the shop. Nate dawdled a minute longer, then checked out so he could head back home. But when he turned the corner outside the shop, he stopped short.
Aubrey was a few yards in front of him, window-shopping and sipping from his can of “coffee.” He looked back and met Nate’s eyes before Nate could decide whether to turn around and walk the long way around the block to get back to his apartment. “Done hiding?” Aubrey asked, and Nate went from embarrassed to pissed off in half a second. Nate was almost impressed. Even his ex-husband usually needed more than two words to inspire that kind of turnaround.
