By His Rules (14 page)

at the menu cover. Say the word and he’d belong to a top

whose rules and expectations were unfamiliar. Sure,

Keaton seemed friendly and patient, but who was to say

the moment Aiden arrived at Keaton’s house, that

wouldn’t change? That Keaton wouldn’t be just as

demanding and brutal as Scott?

“No, thanks.” He forced himself to meet Keaton’s

eyes. “I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I can’t do

that again.”

“Do what again?”

“Can’t live with someone I don’t really know,”

Aiden mumbled.

Their food arrived. Keaton thanked the waiter.

“Take some time to think about it. You don’t have to

decide today. You can call me anytime. I mean that.”

Aiden toyed with his sandwich. He managed to eat

a potato chip before nausea overwhelmed him. He

excused himself to the bathroom, where he threw up,

then washed his face and lectured himself in front of the

mirror.

Pull it together. Think about what he’s saying. You can’t

stay with Hera. You’re driving each other crazy.

He returned to the table.

“All right?” Keaton asked.

“Just feeling a little—I don’t know.”

“Could be low blood sugar. Dessert’ll help with

that.”

Aiden shook his head. “I… I think I might need to

go home.”

Keaton nodded. “Can I offer you a ride?”

“No, thanks. The walk will help.”

“Aiden?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know, before you go—I know we

saw each other briefly that night at Obey. I have been

involved in the BDSM community for a long time. Even

if you don’t stay with me, if you ever want to talk about

what happened with Scott, or anything relating to the

lifestyle, I’ll listen.”

Aiden looked at the floor. “Thanks. I’m okay,

though.”

They parted with Aiden promising he’d think more

about Keaton’s offer. Aiden went home and slept.

He woke when Hera came home, and heard Sloane

rush downstairs to join her in the kitchen.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Sloane stage-whispered.

“Take what?” Hera asked.

“
Him
,” Sloane said. “I know he’s your friend. I like

him, I do. I just can’t handle him living here.”

“Is he here now?” Hera’s voice was very soft.

“Yeah, he’s sleeping. And about half an hour ago,

he was screaming so loud I’m surprised the neighbors

didn’t call the cops.”

“It’s only for a little while.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Sloane—”

“I’m serious.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Hera said.

Aiden released the breath he’d been holding. He

got up, stalked to the front bathroom, and slammed the

door. He splashed water on his face, took a deep breath,

dug the phone out of his pocket, and called Keaton. He

was convinced panic would swallow him whole, but

then he heard Keaton’s warm “hello,” and he held

himself together enough to say, “It’s Aiden. I’ve been

thinking about what you said today.”

“Oh?”

“I—If it’s still okay… I’d like to take you up on your

offer.”

“Certainly,” Keaton said. “When?”

“Um… ” Aiden heard Hera call his name. “Could

I… Is this weekend too soon?”

“I teach until four thirty on Friday. A friend of mine

has a truck. I can pick you and your stuff up.”

“I don’t have much. I can just drive over.”

“If you’re sure. Anytime after five.”

Keaton gave Aiden the address, said he looked

forward to seeing Aiden, and hung up. No instructions

about what kind of underwear Aiden should have on or

how Aiden should address Keaton once he was inside

the house. Aiden felt relieved. Maybe the offer really was

just a friendly gesture on Keaton’s part.

Yeah, right. He’s a top. He obviously expects something.

You’ll just have to wait until you’re there to figure out what.

There was a light knock on the door. “Aiden?”

Hera’s voice. “You all right?”

He flushed the toilet even though he hadn’t gone to

the bathroom, washed his hands, and reluctantly opened

the door. Hera stood in the hall, looking concerned.

“I’m going to stay with Keaton,” he told her.

Hera sighed and gave him a quick smile. “That’ll be

nice,” she said. “He’s a cool guy. Really smart.”

Aiden nodded.

“I’ll miss having you here.”

Yeah, right
. “It’s been fun,” Aiden said.

“You want to watch a movie?”

“No, thanks. I think I’m gonna go out for a little

bit.”

He made it to the parking lot behind Obey but

couldn’t go in. He went to the coffee shop instead, and

when they closed, he went to an all-night diner. He

stayed out as late as he could, then crept back into Hera’s

house and lay awake the rest of the night, afraid that if he

fell asleep, he’d have screaming nightmares.

On Friday he packed what little he had. His

stomach knotted and unknotted as he waited for five

o’clock to arrive. Kim tried to get him to eat some kind of

soup for lunch, but he felt too sick. Five o’clock came,

and Aiden waited until five thirty so as not to seem

overeager. Hera hugged him good-bye.

“Be a good boy,” she said.

He snorted. “Shut up.”

“You nervous?”

“No,” he lied.

“I think you’re gonna have a great time. You won’t

even want to go back to your old place.”

“We’ll see.”

Hera looked like she wanted to say something. She

opened her mouth, closed it, then finally said, “He’s not

going to hurt you. You know that, right? He’s not like

Scott.”

“I know,” Aiden said, annoyed.

“All right, dork.” She gave him another hug.

He relaxed and hugged her back. Then he got into

his car and drove to the address he’d written down. The

house was modest—two stories, with a brick foundation

and white siding. He parked on the street. Keaton’s blue

Solara was in the open garage. Aiden slipped on his

backpack, thrust his hands in his pockets, and walked up

the drive.

Don’t freak out. You can do this.

The front door opened, and Keaton stepped out.

“Can I help you carry anything?”

“No, thanks. It’s just this and one other bag.”

Keaton held the door open. “Welcome,” he said.

The foyer was simple and elegant, with a patterned

wood floor, cream-colored walls, and a small table that

held the strangest vase Aiden had ever seen. It was a

dark, translucent green, shot through with gold, and it

spiraled upward and out in a way that seemed to defy

physics. A few dark, gnarled twigs sprouted from it.

“Did you make that?”

“I did. Long time ago. Come on, put your bag

down. I’ll get you a drink. Then we’ll take the grand

tour.”

Aiden followed him to the kitchen. “I’m not

actually thir—”

“Water? Milk? Lemonade? Root beer? Wine?”

“Um, water please.” It was all he could handle right

now.

Keaton brought two glasses of water to the table.

Aiden waited until Keaton was sitting before he sat.

Keaton didn’t seem to expect him to await orders, but

Aiden felt safer taking his cues off the older man.

“You have any trouble finding the place?” Keaton

asked.

“No, Sir.” The “Sir” came out automatically.

Keaton glanced at him but didn’t comment.

“This is Oak Avenue. A couple of streets over is

Oak Hills, and then there’s Oak Circle. Even the mailman

gets confused.”

“Have you lived here long?” Aiden asked.

“Two years in February. I moved here to take the

job at the community college.”

“Do you like it?”

“Pretty well. I’ve got a relaxed schedule this

semester, so I’ve had plenty of time for my own work.”

“What kind of art do you do?”

“Mostly ceramics. And a little painting.”

“That sounds… fun,” Aiden said.

“You do theater?”

“How did you know?”

Keaton glanced at the table, blushing a little.

“Someone at Obey told me.”

Aiden regarded the man with interest. So he’d

actually sought information about Aiden? “I used to. But

not anymore. I mean, I was just in a show a couple of

weeks ago. But I don’t, like, try to do it for a living. I

went to school for it.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Why?”

“I had musical theater aspirations when I was

younger. But my singing voice is, ah, not so good.”

“I don’t sing much. I mean, I can. I’m not great.

Same with dancing.”

“You have such a presence. I’ll bet you’re

wonderful onstage.”

“
I
have a presence?”

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s just… ” Aiden blushed. “I don’t really feel like

I have a presence anymore.”

“Anymore?”

Aiden shrugged and didn’t offer anything else.

“Do you want to see the guest room?”

Aiden nodded. Keaton led him upstairs. “This is

my studio.” Keaton indicated the door to their left. “It’s a

disaster right now, or I’d let you take a look. Next up is

the bathroom.” He nudged the door open. “This is all

yours. I’ve got one in my room.” The bathroom was

spotless, which made Aiden curious about Keaton’s

“disaster” of a studio.
Is there, like, a paintbrush he forgot to

put away?

Keaton continued down the hall and stopped in

front of a door with an old-fashioned knob and keyhole.

“And here’s the main attraction.”

He opened the door and made a sweeping bow.

Aiden stepped into the room. The floor was dark

hardwood, but a white area rug covered most of it. The

walls were the deep blue of winter twilight, and painted

on them in very faint, ghostly silver were winding forms

that suggested human limbs, branches, smoke. The

figures twined together, creating elegant patterns, harsh

knots, delicate harmonies. The effect was subtle but

stunning.

“You
hand-painted
this?” Aiden asked.

“Took about two months.”

“Good grief… you’re like, insanely talented.”

“Maybe just insane.”

Aiden admired the faint, smoky shapes, trying to

follow each one with his eyes. He finally tore his gaze

away long enough to check out the furniture—a small,

sleek wooden desk, a huge dresser, and a high, queen-

size bed in a pale blue iron frame. There was a three-

tiered night table by the bed with a digital clock, a box of

tissues, and a lamp.

“My room’s at the very end of the hall,” Keaton

said. “Towels and washcloths are in the bathroom closet.

There’s soap, shampoo… Extra toothbrushes, paste, Q-

tips… What am I forgetting?”

“This is more than enough. I really appreciate it.”

Aiden glanced at the other man in time to see the quiet

relief in his eyes.

“Well,” Keaton said, “I’m very glad to have you.

Make yourself at home. Anything in the kitchen is

yours.”

They stood there for a moment, and Aiden

wondered if Keaton wanted to fuck now. Aiden still

dreaded the idea of sex, even though he didn’t hurt

anymore. Still, he figured he should offer Keaton

something. He sat down on the bed. “I could show you

how grateful I am?” He tried for a seductive tone, but his

voice sounded small, uncertain.

Keaton didn’t reply, merely studied him like Aiden

was a strange taxidermied creature in a museum.

“I give really good head,” Aiden hurried on. “You

hear that from anyone at Obey?” Keaton still didn’t

answer, and Aiden’s insides grew cold with fear. “You

can fuck me, if you want, it’s just—”

“Aiden.” Keaton held up a hand. “I don’t want to

have sex with you. Not that you’re not a very attractive

man—you are. But you don’t have to do any favors for

me in exchange for staying here. I invited you as a

friend.”

Aiden stared at the rug, stunned and humiliated

and more than a little angry. Keaton didn’t
want
to have

sex with him? He tried to tell himself that he didn’t want

to have sex with Keaton, either. But despite his

uneasiness about sex, he couldn’t deny how attractive

Keaton was. And he’d assumed Keaton wanted him, that

that’s why he’d invited Aiden to stay with him.

“Aiden?” Keaton said. “All right?”

Aiden nodded. “I have to use the bathroom.” He

got up and walked out of the room, down the hall, and

into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. He

stared into the mirror.
Can you blame him for not wanting to