By His Rules (30 page)

He stuffed the letter back in the envelope. No big

deal. One school out of three. He hadn’t really expected

to get in. But a second later, his chest tightened and he

had to fight back tears. No one would want him. He’d be

stuck in this town forever, tossing pizza dough at

Zippy’s, appearing in the occasional community theater

production.

At least he’d have Keaton.

But was that enough? There was more to life than

being in love. What about his own future, his own goals?

He opened his car and threw the letter inside, then

decided to go for a quick walk around the block to clear

his head. There was still a cold anxiety gnawing his

stomach as he returned to the house and found Keaton

putting together a salad.

“Hey,” Keaton said. “How’s your ass?”

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,” Aiden

said. “I already slept in this morning.”

“You needed a nap after what we did.”

“You always know best,” Aiden muttered.

“You okay?”

“Perfect. I’m gonna go shower.”

Aiden went upstairs and showered. His butt was

still bright red. He rubbed it, trying to take some comfort

from the pain. His cargo pants had been folded neatly

and placed on the bed, but he ignored them, putting on a

pair of jeans and a nice button-down.

He spent most of dinner angry at himself for not

being in a better mood. It was hard to hold up his end of

the conversation with his mind on Irvine’s rejection and

Scott’s invitation – and the promise that he’d show up at

Keaton’s to pick Aiden up.

“Yoo-hoo. Aiden.”

He looked up.

Hera waved at him. “I was just saying how Rim

Job”—she glanced at Keaton—“sorry, Rima said she

liked my hair.” Hera had buzzed one side of her head

and shaved the initials
FU
into the fuzz. “I thought she’d

freak. Maybe she’s edgier than we gave her credit for. Or

she just doesn’t get it.”

Aiden tried to smile. “Yeah.” He picked at his

shrimp curry. Hera had cooked tonight instead of Kim,

and the quality of the fare was disappointing. But Aiden

had a feeling that even if he had one of Kim’s vegan

dishes in front of him, he wouldn’t have been able to eat.

“Come on, it’s not
that
bad,” Hera said, watching

him.

“It’s fine,” Aiden said. “I’m just not that hungry.”

The conversation continued around him, and Aiden

suddenly wanted to scream. Wasn’t anyone else in this

room confused, lost, or worried? How were they all

blissfully enjoying this silly dinner when the future was

so unstable? You could love somebody and lose them.

You could want something and never get it. You could

work hard and still end up miserable. Who cared about a

new haircut, or shrimp curry, or eating three meals a day

and sleeping eight hours? No matter what precautions

you took, what defenses you put up, what friends you

surrounded yourself with, life would find a way to hurt

you.

He glanced at his phone. Eight o’clock. In another

hour, Scott would pull up in front of Keaton’s house.

“It’s already dead,” Keaton said, watching him stab

a piece of shrimp with his fork. “Just eat it.”

“I don’t want to,” Aiden replied.

“Are you sick?”

“No, I just don’t fucking
want
to! How hard is that

to understand?”

Hera and Sloane looked up. Only Kim continued

eating her salad as though nothing was happening.

Keaton put a discreet hand on Aiden’s back,

rubbing small circles. “I hear you,” he said quietly. “But

we have a rule.”

“I don’t care. I’m a grown-up. I’m a guest here. I

don’t feel like eating, and what the hell are you going to

do about it?”

It felt good to make a scene, at least for a few

seconds. Then shame flared in him, and the anxiety in his

stomach turned to pure dread. Whatever was going on in

his mind, he couldn’t handle it.

Hera nudged Keaton. “We have a spare room if

you need to take him somewhere and beat his ass.”

Sloane laughed.

Aiden fled the table.

He went to the front bathroom and shut himself

inside, locking the door. He took a deep breath, trying to

steady himself.

I need you, Keaton. I don’t want to, but I do. I need you to

help me, even though you don’t know what’s going on.

But right now, Keaton was the problem. His

levelheadedness that made it impossible to do what

Aiden wanted to do—fight. Aiden didn’t need kindness

right now; he didn’t need patience, understanding,

guidance. He needed humiliation, pain. Resistance.

And he knew where he could get that.

* * * *

pushed back his chair. “I apologize,” he said. “I’ll just go

see… ”

“No apology necessary,” Hera said. “Aiden has

always been… passionate.”

“You mean a total drama queen,” Sloane muttered.

Keaton managed a weak smile. “Be back in a few

minutes,” he said. “I wouldn’t miss dessert for the

world.”

He walked out into the foyer and knocked softly on

the door to the bathroom. “Aiden?” No answer. He tried

the knob. Locked. “Aiden. Open up, please.”

“I’m in the bathroom!” Aiden shouted. “Can’t I get

some privacy?”

“Afraid not.” Keaton waited. “You can’t hide in

there all night.”

“Watch me.”

Keaton leaned against the door. “You’re not being

very polite.”

“Neither are you.”

Keaton went back to the kitchen. “Do you have a

key to the bathroom?” he asked Hera quietly.

“Sure.” She went into the hall and returned with a

key, then made herself scarce. Keaton unlocked the

bathroom door. He started to open it, but Aiden pushed

it shut from the other side. It was no contest; Keaton was

larger and stronger, and he forced his way in. Aiden

retreated to the corner and huddled by the shower,

eyeing Keaton warily.

Keaton shut the door behind him. “What’s all this

about?”

“Why does it always have to be ‘about’ something?

Why can’t I just be in a bad mood without you picking

apart my brain trying to figure out what’s wrong?”

“Because I’m in charge, and it’s my job to pick apart

your brain. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Aiden scowled. “Now you want to talk.”

Keaton waited, confused.

“You want to talk about how I’m fucking up. You

want to talk about what I’m doing wrong. But you don’t

ever want to talk about what’s important.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“No. Why would it matter to you what happens if I

go off to school somewhere, or you get a job somewhere

else? I must be the only one stupid enough to worry

about that.”

“Ah,” Keaton said, something clicking.

“Ah?

You

think

you

fucking

understand

everything?”

Aiden was as furious as Keaton had ever seen him.

If they’d been at home, Keaton would have let the boy

shout himself out. But they were guests, and it seemed

wrong to be having this discussion in their hosts’

bathroom.

“I think I understand,” Keaton said. “But I don’t

think this is the time or the place to talk about it.”

“When are we going to talk about it?” Aiden

demanded. “Ever since we said we loved each other, I

haven’t heard anything from you about what that means.

How long we’ll stay together. You tricked me into

needing you, and now I’m this fucking codependent

wimp… ”

His brat was spiraling. Keaton needed to put the

brakes on this fast, get Aiden through dessert, and then

they could talk things over at home. Keaton put out his

hand. “You’re not. Come on, let’s go have dessert. Enjoy

the rest of our night. We’ll talk later.”

“Fuck you,” Aiden said quietly.

“You’re not going to goad me into spanking you

here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Why not? Hera offered the spare room.” Aiden’s

eyes were dark with fury, his face bright red.

“Last warning. I won’t spank you here, but I’ll sure

as hell load you into the car, take you home, and make

sure you don’t sit down until next month.”

“That solves everything, doesn’t it?” Aiden wiped

his eyes. “Is this what our life’s gonna be like if we do

stay together? Our friends offering you their spare rooms

so you can punish me when I’m bad? Laughing behind

my back? I’m not a brat. I have my own ideas and

feelings and things I want. They might not always be

right, but they’re
mine
.”

Keaton was a little shocked. He truly hadn’t known

Aiden felt this way. He thought their relationship had

been going well, the discipline providing Aiden with

much-needed guidance. “I have never, nor will I ever

expect you to put aside your feelings or desires to please

me. We make choices together about behaviors you want

to change—things that will benefit you, your health, or

our relationship. I enforce the rules we decide on. That’s

it.”

Aiden’s body was tense, trembling with emotion. “I

don’t know. The discipline thing worked at first—it

really did. I was out of control, and I needed help. But

now I feel like I have my life back on track, and I don’t

know if I want to do it anymore. I like being submissive,

but I’m an adult. I don’t want to get spanked when I do

something you think is wrong.”

Keaton nodded. “Then we need to decide whether

the discipline relationship is something we want to

continue.”

“You think it’s that simple?” Aiden demanded.

“I know it’s that simple.”

“It’s not! This is what you fucking want—it’s what

you need!”

“I want you. I need you. I don’t care if we have a

discipline relationship or not.”

“Don’t fucking lie, Keaton.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Aiden’s eyes narrowed. “How many partners have

you had?”

“Why does that matter?”

“A lot?”

“Play partners? Or lovers?”

“Both,” Aiden said.

“Quite a few.”

Aiden nodded, stroking the shower curtain as

though it might offer him some comfort. “Because you

were looking for someone you could have this with,

right? That’s what you’ve been looking for your whole

life. And now you have it—or you thought you had it.

Why would you keep me if I can’t give you what you

want?”

“Because you can. You already do.”

“And what if I go away to school? Or move

somewhere else?”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

“Jesus. Does anything ever freak you out? Do you

ever
worry about
anything
?”

“I worry that the women will eat all the dessert if

we don’t get back in there.”

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sorry. I just think this is a conversation we

should have later, at home.” Keaton had the unsettling

sense that he was handling this situation all wrong, but

he didn’t know what else to do. His suspicions were

confirmed when Aiden didn’t come to him but remained

in his corner.

“Can you just go?” Aiden asked. “Can I be alone

here for a little while? Please?”

“Are you sure?” Keaton hated the idea of leaving

him. Hated that he’d failed to make things better.

“Yes. Just a few minutes. Please.”

“All right. I’m here if you need me.”

“I know.” He offered Keaton a slight nod that was

at least somewhat comforting.

The boy did trust Keaton, did know he could come

to him. He was choosing not to, for reasons Keaton didn’t

quite understand.

Keaton returned to the kitchen.

“You get things sorted out?” Hera asked.

“He just needs a few minutes alone.” Keaton was

surprised to hear anger in his own voice. “Can I help

with anything?”

“Kim’s getting ready to serve dessert.”

“Vegan pralines,” Kim said, putting the tray and a

small bowl on the table, “with chocolate dipping sauce.”

“Wow,” Keaton said. “These look amazing.” They

did look amazing, but Keaton was suddenly disgusted

by his own words. This was his job, wasn’t it? To

compliment, encourage, reassure? To always know what

to say?

“Every dessert she makes is amazing,” Hera said.

“You’d never know her stuff’s vegan.”