They were briefly interrupted by the waiter coming to take their orders, and Aaron belatedly glanced down at the menu. He picked the first thing that he saw that looked good, a fusion of Indian and Japanese dishes that seemed interesting. Actually, the whole place looked interesting, trendy and classy at the same time.
Brad had good taste.
The whole time, though, Aaron looked at Brad, and he tried to figure out what it was about the guy that had Aaron spilling his guts. He knew that his bandmates, the closest thing that Aaron had to friends, didn’t know even a fraction of what Brad had so effortlessly drawn out of him.
“Car accident,” Aaron finally said and then dropped his gaze down to the snowy whiteness of the tablecloth, the subtle gleam of ceramic and the brighter luster of the silverware. Better to look at those little details than into Brad’s eyes.
“My mother died having me,” Brad spoke softly, and Aaron raised his eyes, surprised, because there was just a hint of vulnerability to that voice that he wouldn’t have expected. “And my father gave me up for adoption. So I guess you and I have something in common.”
Aaron swallowed around a lump in his throat that made it hard for him to breathe, much less speak, and maybe Brad, who seemed to notice everything, noticed that, too. Either way, he changed the subject, and he even soon had Aaron chatting again.
Aaron didn’t do small talk. Aaron didn’t do talk at all, really. So how the hell was Brad doing this? How was he getting so much from Aaron, when no one else had ever managed to get much of anything at all from him.
Brad was dangerous, and the more that Aaron was around him, the more he realized just how much. He was going to have to be on his guard, and hope that it wasn’t too late.
* * *
The meal was nothing short of exquisite, and the company even more so, and by the end of it, Aaron surprised himself by how much he was enjoying himself. The fact that it wasn’t a date helped, of course. This was just a business meeting, so he could let his guard down a bit.
Finally, it came to an end, though. The dessert was served, an absolutely exquisite piece of chocolate cake far too rich for either of them to eat alone so they ended up sharing it, which was only practical, after all. Just like the sex had been, the cake was incredible, and it also didn’t mean anything at all.
“Okay. It’s getting late,” Aaron finally told Brad bluntly. “I have to get out of here.”
Not that he had anything special to do, but the longer he stayed here, the more he felt like this was more than just a business meeting. And he had been the one to insist before that this didn’t mean anything. The last thing he needed to do was to fall for this man.
Brad gave him an amused little look, and there was a strange expression that he could get in his eyes like he could see right through all of Aaron’s pretenses and deep into his soul. Of course, it was nothing but an illusion, but it was unsettling anyway.
“Of course. All business, that’s you,” Brad spoke in a wry sort of voice that Aaron found that he didn’t quite know how to translate. Was he being made fun of? It was hard to tell, but before he could decide, Brad pulled out a briefcase that he’d hidden under his seat and opened it up on the table.
“I brought two contracts,” Brad admitted, while Aaron shot him a sharp look, alerted by something in his tone of voice. There was a sort of hesitation in his voice, not anything that most people probably would have noticed, but Aaron was sure of himself. “Just in case you’ve changed your mind.”
He handed a thick sheaf of papers over, and Aaron narrowed his eyes as he skimmed the fine print. He was no lawyer, but it was pretty clear to him within about five minutes of reading which contract he’d been handed.
“I already told you,” Aaron informed him, his voice irritated and not even trying to hide it, “I’m not signing for two years. Give me the other one. The six-month contract.” That was all that he was willing to sign. He’d been clear about that from the beginning.
Brad gave him a little shrug and a roguish grin, one that, for just a moment, Aaron could imagine seeing on the face of someone younger. How old was Brad, anyway? He looked to be in his late twenties but acted much older. But when his eyes crinkled up at the corners, and his lips widened in a sincere smile, Aaron found that he just couldn’t tell.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he murmured and then started poking through more papers. Aaron wasn’t trying to look, he really wasn’t, but he did glimpse the sight of Ken’s name at the top of one of them, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it was probably the contracts for the rest of the Lost Boys.
Did they have two contracts, too? Was Brad pitching this solo act thing to all of them? It wasn’t like it mattered to Aaron if he was since it wasn’t like he was going to take Brad up on his offer, no matter how remarkable that offer was.
“Damn it,” Brad finally muttered, and Aaron realized that he’d lost track of time, just daydreaming about the man across the table from him. Aaron shook his head to try to clear it and tilted his head in silent inquiry toward Brad. “I forgot the other contract at home.”
Aaron arched an eyebrow, not entirely sure he believed that. Brad had hardly made any secret about wanting him to stick around, and it just seemed a tiny bit convenient that he hadforgottenthe contract, the one that Aaron had agreed to, back home.
“Then let’s go get it.”
Maybe it was legit, but either way, Aaron had no intention of letting Brad get away with it. The contract was going to be signed that night because that would get that piece of business out of the way. Then he could call Leah’s social worker, maybe see about what the process would be for him to be ready to get his sister back in his house.
It wasn’t until after he’d spoken that he realized he had pretty much just invited himself over to his manager’s house. His manager, who was incredibly off limits, who Aaron had already had a hard time resisting. Maybe Aaron had had better ideas in his life than to go off somewhere private with him.
On the other hand, they had both agreed to be professional, right? And Aaron had certainly never had any problem resisting that sort of temptation before. Besides, who even said that Brad wanted him? Who said that Brad even had to control himself, since wasn’t it very possible that Brad had gotten the whole thing out of his system, just as Aaron was supposed to have done?
Still, it was presumptuous of him, and Aaron knew it. If Brad complained, he decided that he would back off. He really had no right just to demand to go over to anyone’s house, and he was half tempted to take back the words, to look right into that smirking face, those knowing eyes, and tell Brad that he had changed his mind.
“Let’s go, then,” Brad murmured, and Aaron felt a delightful little shiver race down his spine at the look in the older man’s eyes. All of a sudden, a lot of his doubts were dispelled.
Nothing had changed between them. It should have. They should have both moved on, as they had said that they would, but the desire was there and maybe even stronger than ever.
And he was going to this man’s house, going to be all alone with someone who was looking at Aaron as though he were some particularly delicious piece of cake that the older man wanted to scarf down, to eat right up.
The hell of it was, Aaron thought, as he got to his feet. He went along with it because he was intrigued by the look in those remarkable golden eyes, by the way they seemed to shimmer in a way that made Aaron’s legs go weak.
He was going to go along with him, and he couldn’t even claim, this time, that he was completely unaware of what could happen. He knew, he knew very well, and he also knew that he couldn’t be at all sure if his self-control was up to the task, and yet, he was going.
