Ink and Ice, Erin McRae [primary phonics .txt] 📗

apartment. He’d barely picked up pantry staples in the time he’d been in the Twin Cities, relying far too much on takeout and convenience food. And, while he could tidy the basement apartment he rented from Marie, it was not a space that could impress anyone. In a way, Zack was relieved. Whatever was happening with him and Aaron, it was progressing entirely on their own merits as people rather than any metric of American material success.

Aaron arrived punctually at six, ringing the bell as Zack finished chopping the vegetables for a stir fry.

“Hi!” he said brightly when Zack opened the door. He was holding a small bouquet of flowers and a bottle of sparkling water, both of which he pressed into Zack’s hands. “These are for you! And also, us. Since I don’t really drink, and I don’t know if you do.”

“Thank you.” Zack said, touched. He stepped back to let Aaron in. When was the last time anyone had brought him flowers? It was such an unnecessary gesture, and yet one that was so very Aaron in its concern for detail. What an absurd and lovely creature he was.

“You know, I’ve never been in here before.” Aaron toed off his shoes, looking around. “It’s nice. In that skater kitsch way.”

“I’d say thank you, but I’m not sure you’re being nice,” Zack said, amused. He moved into the kitchen to find something to use as a vase.

“I am being nice! I’m a skater; I’m kitschy.” Aaron said.

From the back of one of the shelves Zack pulled out on a giant ceramic mug emblazoned with a cartoon dog wearing figure skates.

“Like this?” He held up the mug so Aaron could see.

Aaron’s face lit up. “Oh my God, yes. That’s great!”

“Marie deserves the credit.” Zack filled the mug at the sink and put in the flowers.

“Tell her I said so, then.”

“Are you hungry?” Zack asked, returning to the piles of vegetables and meat on his cutting boards.

“Starving.”

There was something effortless about having Aaron in his space. As he cooked, Zack watched him walk around the living room taking in the art on the walls and the few of Zack’s own possessions scattered around. He touched things and picked them up to see them closer without any kind of self-consciousness or embarrassment.

“You didn’t tell me you were a photographer too,” Aaron said, running his fingertips over Zack’s Nikon where it was sitting on the TV stand.

“It’s a hobby more than work. It lines up sometimes though. Sometimes, I can get pictures no one else can get.”

“Show me?” Aaron asked.

“Maybe.” That was going to be another potentially fraught conversation, and Zack thought he deserved at least a week of enjoying Aaron before that needed to happen. He wanted to pick him up, set him on the kitchen counter, and make out with him.

Aaron caught Zack staring as he ran his fingers across the spine of a spiral notebook next to the camera. He flushed, but didn’t retract his hand.

“Is this weird?” he asked. “Am I being weird?”

“You don’t normally date people who aren’t skaters, do you?”

Aaron paused a moment, his gaze a little distant, like he was calculating. “Uh. No. Not dated, anyway. But mostly skaters either way, yeah.” He drifted over to the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

“Sit there and look pretty?”

Aaron gave him an exaggerated show smile and laughed. “No, really. You know I work at my parents’ restaurant, I’m good at this kind of stuff.”

“I thought you did accounts for them? Not the chopping and cooking.”

Aaron shrugged. “I’m doing accounting now because it’s one of the things I can do remotely, and I need to help out somehow. But no, it’s usually messier. Lots of fish. Peeling, slicing, dicing, cleaning, bouncing....” he trailed off to steal a bite of pepper out of Zack’s skillet. “Hey, that’s good.”

“Thank you. Wait. Bouncing?” Zack asked. He was sure he’d heard wrong.

“Yeah. Lots of drunk and rowdy patrons on a summer island.”

“But, you’re....” Zack didn’t know if it was all right to say, but Aaron tiny, at least compared with the size and stature of the bouncers he typically associated with venues and bars.

“Not all bouncers are huge. And I’ve been keeping you on your feet for weeks.” Aaron stole another piece of vegetable out of the skillet. “When I skate I have to fill the entire rink with my ‘presence.’” He licked a bit of sauce off his thumb and then made the air quotes. “Up close and personal, it tends to grab people’s attention. After that I just have to talk them into chilling out and doing what I want.”

“Which you’re good at, I’ve noticed,” Zack said. Aaron did, indeed, seem to have a distinct talent for getting what he wanted.

Without invitation, Aaron started opening cupboards and taking out dishes. “Mmm. Ari’s better at it, though.”

“Who’s Ari?” Zack asked.

“My sister.”

Zack rapidly searched his memory for any conversation they’d had about Aaron’s home or family where he’d mentioned any siblings. He came up blank. “You have a sister?”

“Yeah?” Aaron sounded surprised the question had ever been in doubt.

“Older or younger?” Zack asked, in lieu of saying why have you never mentioned her? It wasn’t that Aaron owed him any information, but Aaron always seemed so open about everything the omission seemed odd.

Aaron was now laying plates on the table. “Older. Technically. By a few minutes.”

Zack stared at him.

Aaron stared back. “We’re twins?” he said, as if Zack were missing something quite obvious. Which apparently he was.

“You have a twin and you never mentioned her to me? I wrote a whole article about you!”

“About my skating. Ari doesn’t skate competitively. And she doesn’t like it when I talk about her to outsiders.”

“Outsiders?” Zack was confused again.

“People not from the islands,” Aaron explained. He returned to the little kitchen corner and started opening drawers.

“Silverware’s to the left of the sink. And why?” Zack asked.

“Because people who aren’t from there don’t know what life there is like.”

“I thought it was a massive vacation destination.”

Aaron