Role Playing(61)

Aiden drank some more, emptying his pilsner glass and gesturing to the bartender to get him another. “No.”

“I’m telling you: ask Patience,” Riley said. “Sheryl’s eyes will bug out, and it would serve her right.”

“I’m not trying to get revenge on Sheryl,” Aiden said, his irritation bleeding out. “I’m just trying to prevent gossip and bullshit. I don’t know Patience very well, but from what I’ve seen? Nothing about her screams ‘There’s a woman who knows how to defuse a situation.’”

Riley laughed. “All right, you’ve got a point there.” He munched some of the cheese fries he’d ordered from the bar. “How about Deb, then?”

“You’re the one that warned me off of Deb, remember? Because she wants to get married?”

“True,” Riley said. “But you’re kind of running out of time for Tinder. Hell, even for hiring someone on Craigslist . . .”

“I am not doing that,” Aiden snapped, then sighed over another sip of beer.

“Look at it this way,” Riley said matter-of-factly. “You want a date. Deb won’t stir up shit, she’s good in a crowd, and your mom likes her. Hell, your mom would be over the moon. Wouldn’t it be good to get her off your back? You’re going to be stressed out enough with Davy and Sheryl there.”

Aiden took a deep breath. He has a point.

“Lucky for you, she just walked in.” Riley smirked, nodding his head at the door.

“What?” Aiden swung his head around. Sure enough—Deb and her cousin had just walked in, surveying the place. He hadn’t talked to Deb since the disastrous “surprise” party at his house. He felt his stomach turn into a ball of ice. “Fuck.” He quickly turned back to the bar.

Riley looked surprised. “Do you hate her or something?”

“What? No!” Aiden grimaced. “I don’t even really know her. She’s Davy’s age, maybe a little younger, and it’s not like we ever hung out since I moved back, other than seeing her with my mom’s church group, and going to her party.”

“And her throwing you a party,” Riley teased.

“I don’t know her,” Aiden repeated.

“Yeah, well, now’s your chance,” Riley said, his tone surprisingly serious. “Because it is going to suck if you’re at Jason’s wedding alone. You know people are going to talk. They’re going to say that you still haven’t gotten over Sheryl. Hell, they might say worse.”

“Worse like what?”

“I dunno. Like you’re gay, or something.” Riley shrugged, then narrowed his eyes. “You’re not, are you?”

“No.” Aiden took a deep breath. “Not exactly. I’m not particularly straight either.”

And he waited for that bomb to detonate.

Riley’s eyes widened as the gears in his head whirred. “So . . . you’re . . .”

“I don’t know what my particular label is, but yeah. I’m interested in guys as well as girls—when I’m interested. Which isn’t often.”

Another moment of quiet. Apparently, when he decided to come out, he came all the way out. But ever since he figured out that what he was—whatever he was—was something that other people were too . . . it had been hard to walk back. He didn’t want to. It was like he’d known for years that there was something wrong with him—and now he knew there wasn’t, that this was a valid thing.

It was still blowing his mind.

“Okay, first things first.” Riley looked grim. “You’re not into me, are you?”

Aiden couldn’t help it. He laughed. Hard.

“Not with a gun to my head,” he said honestly, and Riley looked both relieved and insulted.

“All right. Shit.” Riley frowned. “Should you maybe be asking a guy, then?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How the fuck have you not been dating left and right?” Riley then asked, completely serious.

Bisexual misunderstanding for the win. Aiden shook his head. He’d read about the stereotypes, the erasure. He wasn’t about to have that conversation with Riley. “That’s part of the complication. I’m not interested in people.” Aiden squirmed uncomfortably. It’s not like anyone was listening in to their conversation at the bar—there was some kind of sports commentary show on the multitude of screens, and it was busy enough that there was a wall of conversation. Fortunately, Deb and Patience had not made their way over, and since he hadn’t spoken to Deb since the disastrous surprise party, he hoped she’d continue to avoid him. He wasn’t ashamed, per se. He just didn’t want it to be public. Especially since the small town’s commentary would make the sports show look like amateur hour. He didn’t need all of Fool’s Falls weighing in and armchair quarterbacking what he was, why he was, and how it might have happened.

Riley looked like his brain was still wrestling with the information he’d just been presented with. “You’re . . . okay, I still don’t get it.”

“You don’t need to,” Aiden said. “You’re taking it better than I’d expected, though.”

Now Riley looked affronted. “You’re still my bro. I mean, I’m an asshole, but I’m not that much of an asshole.”