came another voice from the kitchen doorway—Jules, his long hair pulled back in a ragged ponytail, wearing an apron over his jeans and T-shirt.
“Jaz tells me he’s been following you all over.” Aiden and Jules exchanged the typical French greeting of kissing each other’s cheeks.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jason chuckled.
The door to the apartment opened, and Sam walked inside carrying several shopping bags. “Hope I’m not too late.” Sam glanced over at Aiden and smiled. “Good to see you again, Aiden.” He put the bags down and shook Aiden’s hand. “And thanks for calling.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I snapped at you in the park.” Aiden tried to ignore the familiar jolt of heat in that contact.
“I know.” Sam’s smile appeared quite genuine.
Aiden tried to pretend as though seeing Sam again didn’t have him on edge and unable to focus. He realized he was still holding Sam’s hand and pulled away, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He wondered if Sam felt the same, because he noticed the bob of Sam’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Aiden tried his best to silently communicate that he was no longer angry. He hoped it worked. Whatever had happened with them in the past, he’d moved beyond it. Or so he kept telling himself.
“I brought you a little something, Jules.” Sam pulled a bottle of wine out of one of the bags and handed it to Jules.
Jules’s eyes widened. “ Château Margaux? Have you been talking with David Somers?”
Sam laughed. “No. But I wanted to thank you both properly for letting me stay here and for the party the other night.”
The pleasure in Jules’s eyes belied his stern expression. “You shouldn’t have. It’s far too expensive.” He put his hands on his hips and glared at Jason, then added in French, “You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”
Jason winked at Sam but said nothing.
“Give it up, Jules,” Aiden chimed in. “You know you can’t win this one. Besides, even I know it’s your favorite.”
Jules threw his hands up, then gave Sam a big kiss on the cheek and went to uncork the bottle.
A short while later, they were all seated around the dining table, drinking the wine and enjoying Jules’s cooking, the smells of fresh bread, garlic, and butter hanging in the air.
Dinner conversation was easy and comfortable, though Aiden had to force himself not to stare at Sam from across the table. It was difficult not to look—the intervening years had been good to Sam. Aiden couldn’t help but notice how sure of himself Sam seemed—the tension and sadness he had once sensed in the other man had been replaced by a quiet calm that Aiden found surprisingly appealing. Once or twice Aiden thought he caught Sam’s gaze, as well, though Aiden dismissed the look as one of simple curiosity.
After dinner Jason excused himself to help Jules do the dishes, refusing Aiden and Sam’s offers of assistance. “Balcony?” Aiden suggested.
“Sure.” Sam followed Aiden outside. “Makes me wish I had a view like this,” he added as they looked out over the park. “Not that I don’t have a good view of downtown Philly from my place, but it’s nothing compared to this.”
“I almost ended up putting down roots here.” Aiden’s expression was wistful.
“Why didn’t you?”
Aiden’s face fell. “It didn’t work out. I ended up in London instead.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not.”
There was a brief moment of silence; then Aiden added, “Look, Sam. About the other day—”
“No need to apologize.”
“I thought you were a reporter. I overreacted. I was a jerk.”
The look on Sam’s face was sad now. “Funny, how we seem to do a lot of apologizing to each other, isn’t it?”
“Yes. We do, don’t we?” In spite of himself, Aiden smiled. “Maybe we just need to stop.” He turned to lean on the iron railing. “New York was a long time ago. Maybe we can move on from that. Be friends?”
“I’d like
“Jaz tells me he’s been following you all over.” Aiden and Jules exchanged the typical French greeting of kissing each other’s cheeks.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jason chuckled.
The door to the apartment opened, and Sam walked inside carrying several shopping bags. “Hope I’m not too late.” Sam glanced over at Aiden and smiled. “Good to see you again, Aiden.” He put the bags down and shook Aiden’s hand. “And thanks for calling.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I snapped at you in the park.” Aiden tried to ignore the familiar jolt of heat in that contact.
“I know.” Sam’s smile appeared quite genuine.
Aiden tried to pretend as though seeing Sam again didn’t have him on edge and unable to focus. He realized he was still holding Sam’s hand and pulled away, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He wondered if Sam felt the same, because he noticed the bob of Sam’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Aiden tried his best to silently communicate that he was no longer angry. He hoped it worked. Whatever had happened with them in the past, he’d moved beyond it. Or so he kept telling himself.
“I brought you a little something, Jules.” Sam pulled a bottle of wine out of one of the bags and handed it to Jules.
Jules’s eyes widened. “ Château Margaux? Have you been talking with David Somers?”
Sam laughed. “No. But I wanted to thank you both properly for letting me stay here and for the party the other night.”
The pleasure in Jules’s eyes belied his stern expression. “You shouldn’t have. It’s far too expensive.” He put his hands on his hips and glared at Jason, then added in French, “You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”
Jason winked at Sam but said nothing.
“Give it up, Jules,” Aiden chimed in. “You know you can’t win this one. Besides, even I know it’s your favorite.”
Jules threw his hands up, then gave Sam a big kiss on the cheek and went to uncork the bottle.
A short while later, they were all seated around the dining table, drinking the wine and enjoying Jules’s cooking, the smells of fresh bread, garlic, and butter hanging in the air.
Dinner conversation was easy and comfortable, though Aiden had to force himself not to stare at Sam from across the table. It was difficult not to look—the intervening years had been good to Sam. Aiden couldn’t help but notice how sure of himself Sam seemed—the tension and sadness he had once sensed in the other man had been replaced by a quiet calm that Aiden found surprisingly appealing. Once or twice Aiden thought he caught Sam’s gaze, as well, though Aiden dismissed the look as one of simple curiosity.
After dinner Jason excused himself to help Jules do the dishes, refusing Aiden and Sam’s offers of assistance. “Balcony?” Aiden suggested.
“Sure.” Sam followed Aiden outside. “Makes me wish I had a view like this,” he added as they looked out over the park. “Not that I don’t have a good view of downtown Philly from my place, but it’s nothing compared to this.”
“I almost ended up putting down roots here.” Aiden’s expression was wistful.
“Why didn’t you?”
Aiden’s face fell. “It didn’t work out. I ended up in London instead.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not.”
There was a brief moment of silence; then Aiden added, “Look, Sam. About the other day—”
“No need to apologize.”
“I thought you were a reporter. I overreacted. I was a jerk.”
The look on Sam’s face was sad now. “Funny, how we seem to do a lot of apologizing to each other, isn’t it?”
“Yes. We do, don’t we?” In spite of himself, Aiden smiled. “Maybe we just need to stop.” He turned to lean on the iron railing. “New York was a long time ago. Maybe we can move on from that. Be friends?”
“I’d like
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