With how easily Allie let Trent off the hook when he called to wish his daughter good night, he expected inquisition-level questions the following morning when he came to pick Alice up. Face-to-face interrogation was preferred by the Crimm siblings, as body language told just as much of a story as spoken word and tone, so it was a surprise to both Trent and his sister how comfortable he was relaying to her all that had happened on his and Ted's date without much prodding.

He didn't realize how much he needed to tell her about what happened—as if saying it all out loud to someone solidified for him that it was real. Out of respect to Ted, Trent kept most of the more personal details about what he shared out of the conversation, but Trent told Allie everything—how easily they talked about not so easy topics, the odd intimacy of baking something together, the kiss, the panic attack, and that Trent thought he had screwed things up when he called them both out on their insecurities from their past relationships.

"I'm really liking this side of you," Allie said as she handed Trent back his phone after looking at the picture of their finished pie.

"And what side's that?" Trent asked, pocketing the phone. "The one where someone I fancy shows remote interest in me back and I nearly muck it up?"

Allie rolled her eyes. "Come on—he is more than remotely interested in you. That was a wildly specific and thoughtful date he planned. Like something out of a Hallmark movie." She took a sip of her tea. "I like that you want both of you to give the other one a real chance. Neither of you wanted your marriages to end like they did, yeah? But learning from that and trying to be there for the next person—but also for yourself—is a lot. I'm proud of you, is all."

"Thank you," Trent said, shifting around in his seat, unable to fully accept the compliment from his older sister.

"So what's next?" Allie asked, wholly intrigued.

Trent shrugged. "I don't know. I asked if I could plan the next date, but I haven't gotten further than that. I'm not going to try and one-up him or anything, but it's got to mean something." He took a sip of his own tea and stared past his sister, lost in thought.

"Wait—are we makin' doughnuts?!" Ted asked quietly, but wholly enthusiastically, as he grabbed Trent's arm when he and Trent walked through the doors of a classroom at a local baking/pastry institution and saw a huge doughnut decoration displayed in the front of the room, along with several rows of baking stations set up with fryers and ingredients.

Trent smiled, pleased that Ted was already so happy. The thought had come to him while he and Alice were eating leftover pie. Trent remembered Ted said he had mastered pretty much everything baking-wise except for doughnuts because of the whole fryer situation. And while Trent didn't know how to make doughnuts either, he figured someone could show them how. He shouldn't have been surprised at how many adult cooking and baking classes there were to choose from, what with all the various classes he had signed Alice up for over the past couple years, but he had never done anything like this for himself.

There was a choice between baking lessons for couples or for individuals. This was something he wanted to do with Ted together, but he didn't know how together in public Ted was ready to be. The publicity for the panic attack had only just disappeared and Trent didn't want to be the reason Ted was all over the news yet again. Even with as something as innocent as a doughnut making class, Ted was a public figure, so Trent signed them both up for individual baking lessons for the same class and hoped for the best.

They grabbed the last open stations next to each other in the last row. Ted eagerly put on the provided apron while Trent tied his hair back and adjusted his glasses. The class started soon after and everyone was asked to come to the front of the room for a demonstration. Ted's complete attention was on the woman running the course and it looked like he was trying to memorize everything she was doing once she got to the fryer. Trent was mostly listening, but he also observed the other attendees. There were obvious couples, but also some people who looked like they were there by themselves and ready to learn.

After the demonstration, the attendees were all sent back to their stations where they had everything they needed to make a dozen no-yeast doughnuts, which they could either glaze or dip in chocolate and top with sprinkles.

"You wanna each do a different kind so we can split 'em after class?" Ted asked in a loud whisper.

Trent nodded as he looked over the recipe. It didn't look impossible. "Which would you like to do?"

Ted chewed on his lip as he thought, taking the question genuinely very seriously. "I think I gotta go with the chocolate and sprinkles. You okay doin' the glaze?"

"I will do my best," Trent said. "And Ted…" Ted raised his eyebrows. "Metric units of measure."

Ted grinned. "Thank you kindly for the reminder."

They worked in relative quiet, each concentrating on the task at hand. This was obviously going to be more of a challenge for Trent than Ted, but Trent was good at following instructions and knew not to rush through anything. He would sometimes have to go back and reread a step because any time he looked up at Ted, he'd forget what he was doing. The distracting combination of determination and elation on Ted's face was far more rewarding than the thought of walking out of there with edible baked goods.

Ted's joy slipped a bit when it came time for him to start frying his dough. Trent had just finished forming the last of his circles, so he approached Ted's station.

"Is everything all right?" Trent asked quietly, making sure not to get too close to the other man.

Ted nodded. "Just thinkin' about my plan of attack, sir."

"The instructor said she would help if needed," Trent looked around the room trying to locate her. "Would you like me to track her down?"

"Nah, I got this," Ted said with a firm nod. "I guess I've always been scared of either undercookin' it or overcookin' it. And burnin' myself, obviously."

"Do you have any extra dough left? You could try frying a bit of that," Trent suggested. "It wouldn't matter if it turned out perfect or not. But you'd get some practice putting something into the oil, flipping it, and taking it out."

"Trent Crimm, comin' in clutch with a solid idea. You're as smart as you are handsome," Ted muttered as he went about tearing pieces of his extra dough and rolling them into balls. Though flustered from Ted's offhand comment, Trent stayed put for moral support while Ted gently lowered one of the balls into the fryer using a skimmer spoon. "If each of the doughnuts is supposed to be two minutes a side, then this should be done in about a minute a side, right?" Though it was a question, Trent didn't answer because he knew Ted was talking to himself and he didn't want to break his concentration.

After Ted flipped the dough ball, he waited another minute before he fished it out and put it on a paper towel on an unused baking sheet. It was fairly dark and Trent hoped for Ted's sake that it was cooked through.

Ted grabbed a knife and cut it in half, sighing with relief that the inside wasn't raw. It looked a bit overdone, but nowhere near burnt.

"Do you feel better?" Trent asked.

"Better than better," Ted replied. "Thank you for your help."

Trent shook his head. "That was all you, Ted."

"I assure you, it was not," Ted said. "But I appreciate ya all the same."

Trent went back to his station, himself feeling slightly more confident about his own doughnuts having watched Ted.

In the end, out of a possible 12 doughnuts apiece, Ted made 11 that looked edible and Trent had 9 that might pass muster. The last few minutes of class were spent sampling their wares. Ted sat on his work station, facing the back of the room, while Trent stood next to him, leaning against the station, his side all but touching Ted's leg. They each had halves of the two different doughnuts on small plates. Trent's glazed doughnut looked more uniform, but Ted's slightly lopsided chocolate dipped doughnut with rainbow sprinkles tasted just a tad better.

"It's the chocolate," Ted said, after Trent admitted Ted's doughnuts were superior to his own. "You can hide so many bakin' mistakes with chocolate. Yours all look the same. That's mighty impressive for someone who doesn't bake a whole lot."

"You know… I think my sister has a fryer," Trent said as he took another bite of his glazed half. "We could probably borrow that and try again at some point."

"Man, I sure like hearin' you say we," Ted said softly as he shook his head and smiled to himself. "I know it's the not the first time you've said it, but it's a hug to the heart every time you do." He looked around the room at the other folks chatting among each other, either in pairs or small groups. "This was really fun. Thank you for settin' this up tonight."

Trent followed Ted's eyes to what appeared to be a couple near the front of the classroom. A young woman was wiping something off of another young woman's face and they were both laughing. "It was my pleasure, Ted. They do have other baking classes here, if you're interested."

"There's all sorts of classes, right?" Ted asked, looking at Trent. "I mean, not just here. Like, cookin' and dancin' and paintin' and whatnot?" Trent nodded. "Cool… I love learnin' new things." Ted's face shifted into an open look of hope that also begged for understanding. "Maybe we could learn some more new things together?"

Trent leaned his side into Ted's leg. "I would like that."

The car ride back to Trent's parking garage after the doughnut making class was fairly quiet, which Trent thought was odd since Ted was such a talker. There was music on, but it was low. Trent didn't know if he should ask if something was wrong. When he was interviewing people and needed answers, he was the one who would go silent and people would usually start opening up to him. With Ted, though, it seemed like maybe he needed prompting.

It was only after Trent parked when he finally asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Everything? No. But most things, yes," Ted said with a sigh. He didn't remove his seatbelt, but he did shift around in his seat so he could sort of face Trent better, even with two boxes of doughnuts in his lap. "There's couples classes, right? Like the one we just took, but ones for people to take together. Like, two people per work station sorta thing."

"There are, yes," Trent said. "I didn't know how comfortable you would be in that kind of scenario in public. I apologize for not asking before I signed us up for a class for individual participants. I didn't meant to offend you or anything, I just wanted tonight to be a surprise. I meant no harm by it and am sorry if I've caused any."

"No harm done, sir, honest. And certainly no apology necessary," Ted said with a sad smile. "Thank you for thinkin' of me. That's kinder than what I deserve."

"You deserve every kindness, Ted," Trent said. "I didn't what to put you in a situation you might not have been prepared for. And, selfishly, I couldn't be the reason you could potentially be in the papers again. You being seen with me like that would be news," he said gently. "You're the one who should be in control your narrative. Not me. Not anyone else."

Ted chewed on his lip and nodded. "I don't want you thinkin' I'd be anything less than pleased as Punch to be spotted out on the town with you, but I'd like to tell my family in person first, if you can hang on just a few more weeks. I know that's a lot to ask, but I need to look my mama in the eyes when I tell her about you."

"Have you told anyone yet?" Trent asked.

Ted winced. "I may have floated the notion by Boss last week."

Trent's eyebrows flew up in shock. "You told Rebecca Welton about us?"

"I mean… she asked what I got up to after the big win and I mighta told her we went for coffee and that I was plannin' an actual date. She's the one who asked what kinda apples I was gonna use, so you should have actually thanked her for that." Ted looked apologetic. "Me and her have an understandin' about relationship stuff. We're kinda soundin' boards for each other."

"And she's okay with it?"

"Wouldn't matter if she wasn't, but she seemed supportive," Ted said with a shrug. "Honestly, I think she's just happy that the person I'm seein' isn't her best friend, as I am a hundred percent sure she wishes she could un-know some things about me. But, in my defense, that was all Sassy. I didn't say nothin' to Boss about any of it."

"Hang on—you dated Rebecca Welton's best friend? And her name is Sassy?" Trent tried to make it make sense in his head, but he could not.

"We didn't date, per se… but we spent some time together. Um… twice," Ted admitted. Trent froze while a woozy mix of shame and jealously swirled around inside of him and it must have shown on his face because Ted was quick to ask, albeit a bit surprised, "Is somethin' wrong?"

"No, of course not," Trent replied immediately.

"Look, bein' with her was a no-strings thing, okay? Her number ain't even in my phone," Ted said.

Trent shook his head. "You don't owe me an explanation, Ted. Who you've been with is your business."

"I know I don't owe you an explanation, but let me be clear about somethin'," Ted said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and positioned himself fully toward Trent, taking both of Trent's hands in his. "Sassy's a great gal and all, don't get me wrong… but I'm not even remotely interested in takin' couples classes with her." Ted's eyes silently asked Trent to understand.

"Do you want to rethink wanting to take them with me?" Trent asked quietly, staring at his hands in Ted's.

"I do not," Ted said confidently. "Want or need to rethink anything, that is. I checked in with my heart on the way to a conference with my gut instincts and everyone's still tellin' me that I am all in on Trent Crimm."

"Well, then." Trent's cheeks warmed. "Would you like to come up for a drink?"

Ted smiled. "I would like that very much."

Boxes of doughnuts in hand, they made their way to Trent's flat. Trent pointed Ted to the kitchen while he paid the sitter and got the rundown of what happened with Alice that evening. Everything was fine—they played safari with her stuffed toys, she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed with no fuss, and it only took three stories for her to fall asleep. Trent locked the door behind the sitter as she left and found Ted in the kitchen, admiring the artwork on the fridge.

"Now, either some of these are yours, or Little Miss Giant Alice is the most talented 4-year-old when it comes to shading via the medium of colored pencils and coloring book," Ted said.

"I have been known to dabble in the visual arts," Trent said as he opened a cabinet and surveyed the various types of glassware. "Do you want wine, beer, whiskey, water…"

"I'll have a whiskey if you are too. Neat, please," Ted said. "And thank you for not suggestin' tea."

"There's no way you can hate all tea, Ted," Trent said as he pulled two tumblers off the shelf.

"That's probably true," Ted replied. "But I can say that I've disliked every tea that I've tried in my entire life thus far."

Trent poured them both drinks and handed one of the glasses to Ted, which Ted accepted with a small nod and Thank you.

"You're the first person I've had here besides family and sitters," Trent said softly as he looked down at his drink and swirled the amber liquid around. He hoped Ted would pick up on how weighted that statement was without him having to say the words, out loud, that there hasn't been a Sassy-equivalent for him.

"An honor I do not take lightly," Ted replied as he took a sip of his drink and then put his glass down.

Trent looked up and Ted motioned with his head for Trent to come closer. When Trent did, Ted wrapped the other man in his arms and held him.

Trent wasn't much of a hugger. He hugged his daughter often and his sister on occasion, but he hadn't been an excessive hugger with Thomas or any of the other men he had been with over the years. His mom hugged him when he would leave family dinners. He couldn't really remember his dad ever hugging him. But Ted hugged like it was something he did regularly. His arms felt strong and sure around Trent, like their sole purpose was to channel Ted's assurance into him that they were in whatever this was—whatever this might become—together.

"How come every time I'm in a kitchen now, I wanna kiss you into tomorrow?" Ted asked, murmuring gently into Trent's ear.

"Just when you're in a kitchen?" Trent replied, pulling slowly out of the hug.

"You know, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I'd want to kiss you in any room," Ted replied with a straight face.

"Would you care to test that theory?" Trent asked.

"Sure would."

They both grabbed their tumblers and headed for the living room. Ted's eye was immediately caught by something on one of Trent's bookshelves and he went over to get a closer look.

"I'm sorry, I know we're supposed to be testin' that kissin' theory, but, shit… seein' this picture takes me back 20 years," Ted said with reverence. "I don't think I've seen it since that fall, but I remember this bein' everywhere. I mean, that's not somethin' you can ever forget. Why do you have—"

"—Thomas took that," Trent said reservedly as he came to stand by Ted's side. "He was there for a photoshoot he was never supposed to be at. One of the scariest days of my life, for sure, though infinitely worse for him and everyone in New York City and elsewhere. That photo launched his career. He got asked to stay and I could never have stood in the way of that because was doing work that meant something to him."

"So you let him go." Trent nodded. "But he came back." Trent nodded again. Ted nodded too, but looked lost in thought.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!"

Trent and Ted looked at each other and Ted held out his hand for Trent's drink.

"I'll wait in here," Ted said with an understanding look in his eye.

Trent handed his glass to Ted and went to Alice's room. Her nightlight was on and she was still in bed, but she was sitting up and crying, hugging one of her stuffed dinosaurs—a triceratops she named Tops.

"Oh, Al," Trent said softly as he crossed the room to her bed and sat down next to her, turning on her lamp. "What happened, my love?" Alice leaned into her dad, her small frame shaking from being upset. "Was it the shark again?" She nodded.

Trent closed his eyes and shook his head as he wrapped an arm around his daughter and gave her a half-hug/half reassuring pat on her arm as she continued to squeeze her toy. The last time Alice stayed overnight at his parent's house, she woke up in the middle of the night and when she went to find a grandparent, she walked in on Gerald Crimm watching the end of Jaws. Trent couldn't fault his dad for watching the movie after Alice was tucked in, but this was the third nightmare Alice had in two weeks. He already talked with her about how she was safe from sharks, especially in bed, but it hadn't sunk in yet.

He went to offer her some water from the cup on her nightstand, but it was empty. Either Alice had already drank it or the sitter forgot to give her some before bed. Either way, he needed to get more for her.

"Would you like some water?" She nodded into his side, his shirt dotted with damp spots from her tears. He moved to stand, but she tried to wrap him into a hug with Tops. Trent couldn't help but smile because he was needed. "I'll be right back, I promise."

"Stay," Alice grumbled sadly.

"But your water is in the other room, Al," Trent said softly, trying to reason with her as he kissed her on the top of her head.

Alice shook her head and held onto her dad tighter.

Trent sighed. "Coach Ted is here. Would it be all right if I asked Coach Ted to bring you water?" As soon as the question was out of his mouth, he wondered if it was all right to ask that of Ted. He knew Ted would probably do anything for Alice, but they were still on a date and tending to a 4-year-old was not part of it. (Plus, what if Alice asked why Ted was there?)

Alice looked up at her dad at the mention of Coach Ted and nodded as enthusiastically as a tired crying child could.

Trent nodded back, dug out his phone, and texted quickly:

I'm trapped. Would you mind bringing water for Al?

Plastic cups cabinet next to sink.

Trent felt a surge of gratitude in his heart for Ted when the other man liked both messages and responded:

Be right there!

"He'll be here soon, okay?" Trent said as he held Alice close. She nodded into him.

Moments later, Ted was at the door, nudging it open with a foot as he had plastic cups of water in both hands.

"Hey there," Ted said quietly as he stood in the doorway, looking both very ready to help and quite hesitant. "I didn't know if she preferred cold water or room temperature, so we've got both."

That surge of gratitude in Trent's chest increased tenfold.

"Did you hear that, Al? Coach Ted brought options." Trent smiled at Ted and mouthed Thank you before leaning down and addressing Alice directly. "Would you like cold water or regular water?"

"Regular, please," Alice said, her voice muffled a bit from being so curled up into Trent and Tops.

Trent looked up to find Ted still at the door. He gestured his head toward the bed, silently giving Ted permission to fully enter the room and approach the father and daughter.

Though the cups in Ted's hands were identical, he immediately held his right hand one out. "Regular water," Ted said quietly.

Before Trent could take the cup from Ted, Alice sat up and looked at him. Eyes glassy and hair askew, she sniffled and unlatched herself from her dad and dinosaur. With two hands, she held the half-full cup.

"Thanks, Coach," Alice said unprompted, her little voice still shaky a bit from all the crying.

Ted smiled fondly at the child. "You are very welcome, Miss Crimm."

While Alice slowly sipper her water, Trent looked up at Ted, his own eyes glassy from thanks and adoration. "Thanks, Coach," he whispered.

Ted transferred the leftover cup to his other hand and then rested his newly freed hand on Trent's back. "You are very welcome, Mr. Crimm," he whispered in return.

Trent leaned his head against Ted's side as Alice finished her drink. She handed the empty cup to her dad.

"May I tuck you back in?" Trent asked her as she snuggled down into her bed with her dinosaur toy on her own accord.

"One story?" Alice asked with such sad eyes that there was no way Trent would say no (even though he would never deny his child the opportunity to be read to).

"Which one?" Trent asked. Ted took a couple steps to the side so Trent could crane his neck and see the contents of Alice's bookshelf.

"Digging one," Alice said as she rubbed her eyes. "Please and thank you."

Trent caught Ted ducking his head and smiling to himself.

"I'll get out of your hair," Ted whispered as he held out a hand for Alice's empty cup.

"No, Coach can listen too," Alice said with a yawn. "I can share."

Looking conflicted, Ted still took Alice's empty cup from Trent and stacked it with the other empty one on her nightstand. He set the half-full cup of cold water next to it.

"That's very nice of you to share, Al," Trent said, addressing his daughter but directing his gaze at Ted. "Coach Ted can stay and listen if he wants to."

"I'll stay," Ted said softly. "Thank you for the invitation." He turned to the bookshelf. "Which one does she want?"

"Digging for Dinosaurs," Trent replied. "Should be on the top shelf. Near the left."

Even in the dimness with only the nightlight on, Ted found the book easily and handed it to Trent. He smiled as he sat on the floor. "Excellent choice, Miss Crimm. This is one of my most favorite stories." Alice reached under her blankets and yanked out another stuffed dinosaur toy—this one a stegosaurus. She sat up and held it out for Ted. His face screwed up into a mix of joy and heartbreak as he accepted the offering. "Is this for me to hold onto during the story?" She nodded. "Thank you."

Alice settled back down and Trent opened the book. He was very aware of Ted's eyes on him and it made him a bit self-conscious, but he powered through and started to read with the same level of enthusiasm he'd normally do when it was just his daughter and him.

Though Alice drifted off with a couple pages left, Trent finished the story, still aiming his words toward his child, albeit quieter. He closed the book and traded it for Ted's stegosaurus. Ted stood up and re-shelved the book while Trent tucked the dinosaur in next to his daughter. Trent went to grab the empty cups from the nightstand but Ted already had, so he turned off the lamp instead. They left Alice's room as quietly as they could, with Trent shutting the door behind him.

Trent took the cups from Ted and went to the kitchen to put them in the sink. He was not surprised when Ted followed.

"Thanks for all your help," Trent said.

"It was my pleasure," Ted said. "And thank you for the story. Man, I remember that one from Readin' Rainbow when I was a kid. It was a real treat hearin' you read it. Your kid really loves dinosaurs, huh?"

"She does," Trent said. "And somehow they don't give her nightmares."

"Is that what happened? She had nightmare?" Trent nodded. "She okay?"

Trent set his glasses on the counter and scrubbed a hand across his face as he nodded. "She saw the end of Jaws at my parents' house and this has happened a few times since. I'm taking her to the aquarium this weekend. I'm hoping she'll see that real sharks aren't a threat and that what granddad was watching was a fake shark in a movie. That it was all pretend."

Ted's eyebrows raised in confusion. "But she's okay with dinosaurs?"

Trent shrugged. "She knows they're extinct."

"Can't fault that logic," Ted said with a chuckle. He looked down at his hands and then back up at Trent. His hands were steady; his face concerned. "Was that a lot for you? Me bein' in there with you and your kid like that?"

"I should ask the same of you," Trent replied. "I think it would have been worse if she didn't already know you. If you didn't have a child of your own. The truth is…" Trent sighed through his nose. "I knew you would help if I asked, and I knew you wouldn't fault me for it… but it was still a lot in that tonight was a date. Is still a date. And you having to fetch water for my daughter and then sit through a story because she asked you to wasn't part of the intended agenda."

"From one dad to another, kids come first," Ted said. "As far as this date is goin'—well, heck, I'd just about follow you blindly on any detour. Seein' you in dad-mode tonight… it's a real honor, you lettin' me in the way you do. You're a man of many facets, sir, and I'm tickled pink when I get to see one of 'em that weren't heavily featured in the press room while you were busy bein' Trent Crimm, The Independent. Spendin' time with you is one thing. Gettin' to know ya, though… all of ya…" Ted's cheeks flushed as he shook his head, his eyes hungry with want.

Trent took Ted by the hand and silently led him out of the kitchen, across the living room, and into his office. After shutting the door, Trent backed Ted into it. "We're not in a kitchen," Trent murmured low as Ted's eyes locked on Trent's. "Do you still want to kiss me?"

Ted answered definitively, but not with words.

Later on when Trent would think back and remember the time when he and Ted made out in his office that night, he'd find himself blushing. Pairs of words like assertively complaisant and comprehensibly consensual and intoxicatingly magnetic would come to him and he'd instantly feel Ted's hands between his shirt and skin and Ted's lips under his own—moving together as puzzle pieces destined to fit only each other.

They parted, not because they wanted to, but because they needed to, as both were all too aware of Alice sleeping down the hall. Shirts untucked, hair disheveled, and Trent's face and neck red from Ted's mustache repeatedly brushing against him, the two men slouched down onto the office couch, fingers entwined.

While his breathing settled, Ted looked around the room. Shelves upon shelves of books, photos, and awards lined almost an entire wall. In addition to a laptop that looked several years old, Trent's desk housed jars of black and red pens, a stack of reference books, and piles of notebooks and papers. Ted nudged Trent's leg and pointed with both their hands toward the pegboard above Trent's desk.

"Is that my business card?" Ted asked, a bit shocked.

Trent cocked his head. "Why does that surprise you? You gave it to me."

"Yeah, but usually folks stick those in their wallet," Ted pointed out.

Trent rolled his eyes. "I wasn't going to carry your business card around."

"Why not?" Ted asked.

"Because I was never going to call you," Trent said.

"You have called me."

"After I stopped working with you."

"Yeah, but you texted me before you stopped working with me."

"Yes, but I was planning on writing up my letter of resignation that night anyway, so it didn't matter anymore."

"Wait—I thought you said you got fired?"

"I did," Trent said. "While holding my letter. It was oddly poetic."

"You didn't try to quit because of me, did you?"

"Not just because of you, but you were part of it, yes," Trent said. "My experience at The Independent had been going downhill for years and everything surrounding the article about you was the final straw. I hated that I was the one approached to write it. And it should never have gone to print without giving you a chance to tell your story in your own words." Trent sighed. "My feelings for you were why I wrote it, though. I thought if I could control how it was written then perhaps it would be less disastrous for you in the long run."

"Man, that was quite the romantic gesture for someone who wasn't even aware you were gesturin'—or hopin' for romance—to begin with," Ted said with quiet chuckle. "Even though I was hopin' for it too."

"If you did know about the article before it was printed, would you have tried to stop it?" Trent asked.

"Well, the truth is, I don't think there woulda even been one if I had any idea about what was goin' on with Nate," Ted said, his tone turning somber.

"I'm so sorry he didn't come talk to you about it before he came to me," Trent said. "Because it was he who should have told you something was wrong, Ted. You can't be expected to read peoples' minds."

"I know." Trent knocked his knee against Ted's and Ted laughed quietly. "I know." Ted leaned his head on Trent's shoulder. "Beard figured it out right away, you know."

"Figured what out?" Trent asked.

"That is was Nate," Ted said. "I probably woulda too after the initial shock wore off. Only five people knew about what happened at the Spurs game, includin' Doc. Beard's my best friend, so he wouldn't have told you. Higgins wasn't gonna rat me out and neither would Roy. Nate was the only one who had beef with me."

"Have you talked to him at all?"

"I tried to at halftime durin' the Brentford game." Ted said. "His stuff was out of his office last week when I was in for meetings. Boss told me he's with West Ham now." Ted shook his head. "I sure hope he finds what he's lookin' for." Trent briefly leaned his head against Ted's in a show of solidarity. "I should probably head home, huh?"

Neither of them moved for a while, too content to be near each other.

"I have your pie tin and pie case thing for you. They're in the kitchen," Trent said as Ted sat up first. Their hands were still wrapped up in each other's.

Ted smiled. "Why don't you hang onto those for now?"

"To return eventually?"

"Yeah," Ted said with an impish grin.

After getting his box of doughnuts from the kitchen, Trent walked Ted to the front door of his flat.

"Well, sir… thank you for a fun evenin'," Ted said. "Can we get together again before I head to Kansas?"

"I'd like that," Trent replied, leaning in to give Ted a kiss far more innocent than any they shared in his office earlier.

"Yep… I was right," Ted said.

"About what?" Trent asked as he opened the door.

"Wantin' to kiss you in every room."