Chapter 71 Aslan
Aslan
I’m not going to lie. Having Garrett interrupt us—again—and then stand there in front of both of us so openly jealous, demanding answers, hearing me say to his face that what we had meant nothing… it did something to me.
Not just to me. To both of us.
Aitor had asked him to leave after revealing to him—to us both, actually—that he was my boyfriend.
God, that had hurt him.
And watching him become vulnerable in front of me and his best friend in that desperate, raw way broke my heart to an extent I couldn't even explain or hide.
My hands were shaking so badly afterward that I could barely hold the door handle when I left Aitor’s room. My heart wouldn’t slow down either, pounding so hard in my chest it felt like it might break through my ribs.
The mood was ruined. So was the night.
Aitor understood that immediately. Of course he did. He always seemed to understand the things I didn’t even say out loud. He didn’t try to convince me to stay or push me to calm down. He just held me for a moment at the door, brushing his fingers along my arm like he was trying to steady both of us.
I was pretty sure he had been shaken too.
The thing about Aitor and Garrett was that their relationship was… complicated in ways I didn’t think I fully understood.
Aitor carried Garrett on his shoulders like some personal responsibility. Not in a dramatic way, but in that quiet, stubborn way he had of loving people completely. Garrett’s happiness, Garrett’s stability, Garrett’s wellbeing—it all seemed to matter to him deeply.
And Garrett… Garrett depended on him just as much.
For support. For company. For affection. For grounding. For things I suspected ran deeper than even I knew.
They had grown up together. Survived things together. That kind of history didn’t disappear just because feelings got messy. That love they had for each other was right there, bleeding.
Watching them collide tonight had made one thing painfully clear.
If Aitor and I weren’t careful, that strange triangle between the three of us could become a very dangerous road.
One where someone would inevitably get hurt.
Probably all three of us.
I didn’t sleep much that night.
The next morning James found me sitting at our desk, staring at my phone like it might suddenly explain life to me.
“You look like you lost a fight with a ghost,” he said, dropping his bag on the floor.
“There was… a confrontation last night.”
James froze halfway through opening his energy drink. “With who?”
“With Garrett.”
His eyes widened. “Holy shit.”
I rubbed my face. “Yeah.”
“What happened?”
I told him the entire incident. He stared at me for a second before letting out a low whistle.
“That must’ve been… intense.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
He leaned back against the bed frame, studying me carefully.
“You know,” he added after a moment, “I had someone over last night too. Another complication. I guess we all like to fuck ourselves up.”
I frowned slightly. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Closeted,” James continued casually. “Big time. He’s been panicking all week because someone thinks they saw him at a club in Boston.”
Crownwell had secrets everywhere.
I exhaled slowly and leaned back in my chair.
“I was thinking… I wanna do something for Aitor.”
James blinked. “Romantic panic make-up-for-liking-another gift or actual thoughtful plan?”
“Thoughtful plan,” I said, ignoring the annoying but fair sarcasm. “He’s been… dealing with a lot. Garrett, rehearsals, everything, including my drama.”
“So you want to reward him with mind-blowing sex?”
“I was thinking maybe something nice,” I said, ignoring him again.
“Nicer than sex? You’re delusional, dude.” He rolled his eyes.
“Thanksgiving is coming up, and he doesn’t really have anyone to spend it with.”
James nodded slightly. “So?”
“So I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere. Just for a night. A little cabin or something. Cook a chicken maybe, and make it kinda special. You know? I could get some cheap but cozy place for Thursday.”
James stared at me. Then slowly smiled.
“Or…” he said dramatically, “you could spend the entire weekend at my family’s lake cabin.”
I blinked. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
“You have a lake cabin?”
“We own like five vacation homes.” He shrugged, sounding as casual as he could.
“But your parents—”
“That one is only used during the summer,” he interrupted. “It’s completely empty right now.”
My brain was trying to process the image.
“Lake,” he continued, clearly enjoying my confusion. “Fireplace. Trees. Secluded. Cute. Very romantic. Very Hallmark movie.”
Hallmark… the magical word.
“James…”
“We could drive up early,” he went on. “Set everything up. Food, candles, whatever weird Thanksgiving chicken situation you’re planning.”
I stood up and pulled him into a tight hug before he could finish.
“You’re incredible. I could kiss you right now!”
“I know,” he said smugly. “You’re lucky I’m currently trying to seduce that football jock. Otherwise I’d be all over that offer.”
I shoved him away, laughing. “Idiot.”
The weekend moved fast.
Aitor and I spent most of the time rehearsing, the music room slowly becoming our little bubble away from everything else happening at Crownwell. We practiced until his fingers hurt and my throat was sore, until the notes felt effortless, until the performance stopped feeling like an exam and started feeling like something magical, personal, and emotional we were creating together.
Outside of that, the beginning of the week fell into a strange rhythm of studying, training, and stolen quiet moments.
I kept unsuccessfully trying to tame Tempest while perfecting my jumps and watched Garrett struggle with his horse. More than once, though, I noticed him in the distance trying to follow my instructions while Trisha stood by the fence cheering him on and making out with him between attempts.
They made out all the time—kissing, touching, laughing in every corner, and holding hands in the hallways.
I was happy for him.
I think.
By Wednesday afternoon, I called my mom before our recital. I was freaking out inside and needed to hear her voice.
She tried to sound cheerful when she answered, but I could hear the tiredness in her voice immediately.
“You’re missing Thanksgiving this year,” she said softly.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she replied quickly. “We’ll video call. That’s the modern way, anyway.”
We talked for a while about school, about the weather, about the library she still worked at. Then, about my recital.
“Baby, I’m so proud of you… I wish I was there to see you!”
“You’ll see me. I promise. I’ll record it for you, Mom. I wish you were here too.” I tried to contain the tremor in my voice.
“Next time, love. Next time. I’m getting better every day, you know?” She insisted, which usually meant she wasn’t.
When I hung up, Aitor was watching me from the couch.
“You’re worried,” he said gently.
“A little.”
“About her health?”
I nodded. “I think I should visit her during Christmas.”
He stood and walked over, sliding his arms around me.
“We could go together, I could stay at a hotel,” he said quietly.
I looked up at him. “My place is… small,” I admitted. “Like, very small, but if you wanted to come, you'd be at my house. As long as you don't mind—”
“I don’t care at all, babe.”
“It’s basically a modular house.”
“Still don’t care.”
“And I only have a small room.”
He smiled. “Perfect.”
I laughed softly, pulling him closer. “You’d have to sleep in my full-size bed.”
He kissed me lightly. “Oh, bummer… extra close to you? I don’t know if I can handle that.”
For the first time in days, he made an attempt to seduce me again, pulling me closer and kissing me with a new kind of intensity.
My body reacted to that, and despite the mental chaos, my cock twitched against his.
There had been no more attempts at sex since that night in the tub. No pressure. No rushing. Which, considering everything we were both carrying right now, was probably the right decision.
There would be time for that later—on Thanksgiving.
For now, we had a recital to attend.
“We should probably get going soon.” He pulled away reluctantly.
I kissed him once more and took a step back. “I know. I’m ready.”