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ON THE WAY TO THEIR Usual Café
Near Twin Cities Ice
***
ONCE TASHA HAD BEEN taken off to the hospital by the EMTs Aaron did his best to muddle through the rest of Zack’s lesson. He was used to working with nerves, but competition anxiety was a different beast than whatever adrenaline rush had hit him. He felt jangly and untethered, and, despite his best efforts, he was prickly with Zack.
The memory of Zack’s serious face when he had said We need to talk didn’t help either. Aaron didn’t have a great feeling about that and suspected Zack was going to give him a speech about why they couldn’t do what they certainly seemed to be on the precipice of doing.
Aaron was used to compartmentalizing and grateful when anyone outside of skating could avoid bringing their problems to the ice. That Zack had kept his mouth shut was a significant point in his favor, even if it had weakened Aaron’s own resolve and focus. Of course, then he’d gone and been helpful when Tasha got hurt. It had all added up to leave Aaron unfairly annoyed at him but also very much wanting to bury his head in Zack’s shoulder so he could soothe away all the emotions of the last hour.
And now, he was probably about to get dumped.
“Coffee?” Zack asked as they sat down next to each other on the bench to undo their skates.
“I’ve got work to do for the restaurant,” Aaron said shortly. He was irritated at Zack, at the universe, and at himself, but Zack was the easiest one to take it out on at the moment. “And I have more practice time tonight.”
“Okay,” Zack said. Aaron could see him out of the corner of his eye, looking back at Aaron out of the corner of his eye as he unlaced his skates. “What did I do wrong?”
Aaron sighed. “You didn’t. Yet. You’re probably going to though. And I’m already mad about it.”
“If I say you’re cute when you’re pessimistic....” Zack nudged his knee against Aaron’s, and it was all Aaron could do not to throw his arms around Zack and hide from the rest of the world.
“I will stab you with your skates,” he said in lieu of doing anything of the sort. If Zack was teasing, maybe he wasn’t about to tell Aaron all of this was a bad idea. A faint bubble of hope rose in his chest, adding itself to the already too-large pile of emotions he was dealing with.
Aaron forced himself to take a deep breath and reminded himself that adrenaline was a nasty drug. Of course he was reeling. Fresh air and a change of scene would probably do him good. Especially if he was about to get preemptively broken up with.
“Gotcha.” Zack gave him a half-smile, and Aaron’s stomach fluttered pleasantly. “Same place we went last time? I do need to bring you up to speed on some stuff, and I’d rather not do it here”
***
THE CAFÉ WAS CLOSE enough to the rink that they walked. Zack never seemed to mind getting out in what, to Aaron, was sweltering late-summer heat, and Aaron needed to burn off his itchy energy.
“How are your programs coming?” Zack asked as they walked.
Aaron twitched one of his shoulders up in an approximation of a shrug. “Okay.”
“Just okay?”
Aaron drummed his fingers against his thigh. “My short program is great but Brendan and I couldn’t agree on a song for my free skate so I’m stuck with Katie’s pick. Which...it’s a good song, and I trust Katie’s taste, but I haven’t clicked with it yet.”
Talking shop with Zack felt natural. Why couldn’t they rewind to last night at the farm? Not just the making out—although also that. It was the warm ease between them that he needed.
“How’s your article coming?” he asked.
“All right. I sent in a draft last night. This morning, technically.”
“Really?” Aaron was surprised. “I didn’t know you were so close to done.”
“I wasn’t, but this is what I wanted to talk to you about.” Zack hesitated. “If you don’t mind doing it before we arrive at coffee.”
Aaron stopped walking and turned to face Zack. “Sooner would be better than later. ‘We need to talk’ once is forgivable. Twice is bordering on sadism.”
Zack laughed quietly to himself. “I’m sorry. That’s fair.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair; Aaron caught himself staring at the tattoos on his arm.
“So after last night,” Zack went on. “I went back to Marie’s and babbled to her for a while.”
Aaron smiled, forcing himself to look at Zack’s face instead of his arms. He had a good face. “That is a rite of passage.”
“Yeah, I got that impression. And we talked about you and this place and my mess of a life, and I realized I had two choices.”
“Which are?” None of this was making Aaron’s nerves diminish in the least.
“Be a responsible journalist, confess my ethical lapses—”
“The kissing?”
“Definitely the kissing. Confess that to my editor, and go back to Florida or on to Phoenix and do my damn work and forget any of this happened.”
“Or?” Aaron prodded, when Zack paused again.
Zack dropped his hand from his hair, his gaze intent on Aaron. “Accept that I am happy here and that I am not done with this place or you, but that that means I am compromised in every way with no way to undo that.”
“Which did you choose? “Aaron’s voice was barely a whisper.
“The one where I’m happy,” Zack said softly. “But the only way I could entertain that was to get the article off my desk as quickly as possible. That doesn’t mitigate my lapses, but it theoretically stops them from getting worse. The piece is full of holes about the Sauer kid and my editor will be pissed, but I will deal with that later.”
“Did he ever call you back?” Aaron asked, because it was better than seizing on all his giddy hope. He didn’t trust it yet; he couldn’t.
“Nope. Which means that right now most of the meat of the article is about you.”
Aaron considered that. “That feels a little overwhelming,” he admitted.
“Blame the big stage,” Zack said with a shrug.
“I’ll try,” Aaron said, but then another, much less pleasant, realization hit him. “Wait, if the article has been submitted, that means you’re headed back home, doesn’t?”
Zack shook his head. “Nope. I said I wasn’t done with this place. Or you. So if you’re not horrified by my impulsive life choices, poor journalistic ethics, or fooling around with a divorcé who is possibly mildly afraid of cows, Marie said she’d let me reup on her basement apartment for a bit.”
Aaron grinned from ear to ear, flickering hope blooming to full-on elation in a moment. “Does this mean I have a disaster boyfriend?” he asked, before he could tell himself to reign it in.
Zack stared at him, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Emphasis on disaster. Because look, this is the other thing, I don’t want to cause you problems, and I can think of a lot of ways I might.”
“How?” Aaron demanded.
“When that article comes out.... It’s pretty glowing—because you earned it, not because I want to get in your pants—and if we’re together people are going to have opinions about that, with consequences for both of us.”
“Who’s going to notice?” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest, impatient.
“Someone always notices,” Zack said. “That’s how the world works. But Katie, for one, who never even wanted you to have coffee with me that wasn’t on strictly professional terms.”
Aaron shrugged. “It’s a little late for that now. I’m an adult; she knows that. I do my work; she knows that too.”
Zack scratched his hand across his cheek. “Okay. Maybe. But... like you said... skating is the most important thing.”
“Sure. But it’s not the only thing.” Aaron tapped his foot to emphasize his point. “Ask me out, or I’m going to get in trouble for nothing and this conversation makes no sense.”
Zack seemed ready to leap at the command. He grabbed Aaron’s hands, gently uncrossing his arms. “Have dinner with me tonight?”
Aaron bit his lip, and considered if Zack would be annoyed if he pushed things now. If Aaron hadn’t frightened him off yet...
“No,” he said, making up his mind and secretly enjoying the momentary crestfallen look on Zack’s face. “A boy is never available at the last minute. How about...” he drew the words out, thinking about them. “We get coffee, you walk me back to the rink, we make out somewhere we won’t get busted, and then you invite me over for dinner sometime this weekend?”
“There are some bold and intriguing ideas there,” Zack said. He rubbed his thumbs over the back of Aaron’s hands.
Aaron squeezed their fingers together. “I should hope. No one calls me boy-crazy just to be mean, you know.”