The emphasis he put on the word made Nate’s ears burn, but all things considered, the whole day was a win.
All the same, it was a relief to take off his boots—still wet—and borrowed socks—wet again—in the tidy living room of Aubrey’s parents’ guest house and just collapse on the sofa. His eyes felt gritty, but he had more he wanted to say before he gave in to sleep, so he reached out his arm for Aubrey, who dropped next to him and leaned his head on Nate’s chest.
“I didn’t get anybody presents.” Oops. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. “Yours are probably waiting for you in Vegas, but even the Duty Free at the airport was closed at three in the morning. Just inconsiderate.”
Aubrey kicked his feet up on the couch and arranged himself further with Nate as his pillow. “It’s all good. It’s not like my parents actually need a two-thousand-dollar bottle of scotch.”
“How’s it going with them?” Everything had seemed okay today, but families could put on a pretty convincing front for outsiders.
“Good, actually.” Aubrey rolled so he was facing the ceiling, and Nate could see the way his brow furrowed. “It’s… I have a hard time trusting it, still. I keep waiting for the rug to get pulled out from under me. I don’t know if that’ll ever completely go away, but it’s been really good so far.”
Automatically Nate threaded his hand in Aubrey’s hair and massaged his scalp. God, his whole body was in overload. He’d never felt so skin-hungry as he had these past two weeks.
He never wanted to feel like that again.
“So, not to bring up a potentially sensitive subject.” He tried not to hold his breath. His heart suddenly felt like it was beating way too loud, but he’d put this off long enough. “I was wondering if you know anyone in Vegas who might be looking for a roommate?”
For a moment Aubrey only blinked at him, and everything seemed very still.
Then he sat up so fast Nate had to lean back to avoid cracking their heads together.
“Are you serious?”
Nate had a moment of doubt. “I mean, if you changed your mind—”
Aubrey cut him off with a kiss, hard and fast and fervent, that basically left him sitting in Nate’s lap. Nate wasn’t complaining. “I haven’t. Yes, you can still come live with me.” He paused. “Actually, I insist. If I have to subject myself to that vase….”
Nate laughed, and Aubrey leaned down to touch foreheads with him. “There’s that competitive streak biting me in the ass again.”
“Rude,” Aubrey said. “That’s my job.”
He was such a brat.
“I was worried,” Aubrey admitted quietly a moment later.
Nate leaned back into the couch, taking Aubrey with him, and maneuvered until they were lying side by side. “About?”
He shook his head, obviously searching for words. “Us? Everything? I don’t know. I thought, I didn’t want to give up Cirque for you, and you didn’t want to give up the show for me, and where did that leave us? How could we make that work?”
Nate got it. He ran his hands absently up and down Aubrey’s back while he worded his response. “I needed more time,” he said finally. “I already knew I didn’t like my job anymore, but I hadn’t accepted it yet. And I knew getting out of my contract was going to be a pain. But it was never….”
“It was never the show or me,” Aubrey said quietly.
“Yeah. Though this new version of the show wasn’t hard to give up once I finally admitted the truth to myself.”
“What about in the future, though?”
“Well, I have it on good authority that Vegas has an NHL team now. Maybe they need some off-ice personality.”
Aubrey shook his head. “I meant—what about after Cirque is done? What if you have a job there and my work is somewhere else?”
“Then we make that decision together.” Nate lifted a shoulder in an awkward shrug. “I’ve been lucky my whole life to have a job I’ve done because I love it. Doubly lucky because I could quit now and never worry about money again. But if it came down to a job I love or the man I love?” He cupped the side of Aubrey’s face. “Easy choice.”
Aubrey’s eyes were suspiciously shiny. “It’s me, right?”
Nate gently pulled him closer, until his lips were kissing distance. “It’s you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
