4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Charlotte
‘ C harlotte! Hey,’ came the warm greeting from the other end of the line. ‘How are you? I’ve missed you!’
Ignoring the way my blood still thrummed through my veins, I felt my face relax into a smile, my heart squeezing with affection at the sound of Becky’s voice. I wrapped my free arm around my shins, drawing my knees closer to my chest and did my best to ignore the man beside me.
Aiden had barely moved when he caught me gawking at him. Even now, his head was still leaning back against the wall and his arm was still resting on his bent knee. That arm had been what had drawn my attention in the first place. Well, the forearm bit of his arm, not that his biceps weren’t nice, but he’d done that thing with his jumper where he’d pushed up the sleeves to his elbows and all of that honey-hued, corded goodness on display had just been too much to ignore. And he didn’t even seem to care. All that had changed was the smirk that now tugged at the corner of his mouth. The fact that I’d been eyeing him up and down like my next meal hadn’t seemed to faze him at all.
‘I’m okay.’ I shrugged noncommittally. I was not about to have a conversation about my Performance Appraisal with Aiden Walsh within earshot. I’d embarrassed myself enough at this stage, thanks. ‘You know, same old, same old. But how are you? How was the exhibition?’
Becky was the closest thing I had to a sister, and she was also my hero. After five years of study, a gruelling two-year training contract, and a year as an associate, Becky had left… Packed up her life, moved to Scotland, and enrolled in a Master’s programme of photography.
We’d been part of the same trainee intake, and we were virtually polar opposites. Where I was quiet and measured, Becky was loud and unrestrained. Where I muted myself in grey, Becky drenched herself in colour.
She was a shock of sunlight in the grey walls of Jones Aiden Walsh had heard me snort. He leaned forward, his interest clearly piqued as he tried to hear what Becky was saying. I turned away, in part to hide the blush that burned my cheeks, but also to hide whatever else may come out of Becky’s mouth.
‘It’s my downstairs neighbour,’ I told her. ‘2C.’
‘You mean, Mr Cold-Stares-And-Chiselled-Cheekbones?’ I winced as Becky’s shrill squeal of excitement drives down the line. ‘ That 2C?’
‘Why do you even remember that?’ I hissed, cupping my hand over the receiver and praying that Aiden hadn’t been able to hear what Becky had just said. But judging from the low chuckle that had come from that corner of the compartment, the odds weren’t in my favour.
Becky’s cackle echoed off of the metal walls. She was laughing so hard that she’d barely been able to form a goodbye before I ended the call and flung my phone down atop my briefcase.
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my hands to my face, soothing the heat of my cheeks with my cool fingertips, consciously ignoring the man behind me. My gaze lifted to the ceiling in silent prayer—please… please let the elevator plummet me to my death.
‘So,’ came Aiden’s voice from behind me, ‘you’ve told your friends about me.’
It was his teasing tone that had me turning in confusion. He’d sounded almost playful. But that couldn’t be right. I scrutinised his face, searching his features for any hint of annoyance, but all I could see was the self-satisfied smirk that softened the corner of the typically grim line of his mouth.
‘That wasn’t…’ I opened my mouth to explain, but my words trailed off into nothing at the sight of his lips spreading into a smile.
‘That’s not…’ I tried again, blinking in confusion. God, he should smile more. Before I could try again, the elevator gave a subtle lurch, taking my stomach with it. A ripple of fear sent my pulse into high gear and my eyes darted around the compartment, instantly regretting my earlier plea for the ground to swallow me whole.
The sound of muffled voices only fuelled my panic, and my gaze shot to the ceiling. I was not ready to meet my maker. I worked on taking slow, deep breaths, blinking back the dread that had crept up my throat and clouded my vision. It was only then that I could focus on the voices, and I realised they were coming from the other side of the elevator doors, their voices muffled by the layers of metal that separated us from the outside world.
When I turned back to face him, Aiden was already on his feet and dusting off his coat. Once he’d folded it over an arm, he held his free hand out towards me, offering to help me up. I stared at his hand, hovering in front of my face. I was a sucker for a well-kept cuticle bed and strong-looking hands and, well, Aiden Walsh had nice hands.
The sound of a throat clearing had me blinking out of my hand vein induced daze. I frowned at the hand in front of me, tempted to ignore the offer of help, and to stand up on my own. But my stupid skirt would complicate things and I wanted—no, I needed— to leave this interaction with what little dignity I could scrape together.
I shook my head once to clear it, ignoring Aiden’s calloused palm and muscled forearm and focusing instead on his face. All traces of humour and teasing were gone. His mouth settled back into its customary straight line.
His hand stuttered in the space between us, a silent instruction for me to take it. Sheepishly, I placed my palm in his, my fingers skimming over his rough callouses. His grip was firm and warm. My eyes wandered to our hands, coupled in contrast, milky-white in golden-caramel. The corner of my mouth spasmed with a smile as he tightened his grip.
With a small tug, Aiden yanked me upright, pulling me up and into the space directly in front of him. Our clasped hands were pressed between our chests, and my knuckles grazed the soft fabric of his jumper. This close, I was enveloped in a haze of leather and smokiness, the scent of his cologne curling against my skin. The peppery undertones of his exhalation danced across my lips, pulling my gaze from his collarbone to his face.
My mouth popped open in surprise when I met his burning gaze. With his chin dipped towards me, his dark hair flopped forward, feathering across his brow. Thankfully, my hand was still clasped tightly in his, or I may just have reached up to touch it.
Blinking up at him, I sucked in a breath in some feeble attempt to clear the fog from my thoughts. Aiden’s eyes dropped to my mouth, the warm brown of his irises nearly obscured by the black of his dilated pupils. I swallowed, my tongue darting out to lick my lips. Aiden tracked the movement of my tongue, his nostrils flaring as he leaned forward, his mouth hardening into a determined line.
Something in my chest tightened and my eyes fluttered closed.
I felt the brush of his body against my shoulder as he moved past me, letting go of my hand and letting it drop into the space between us. The cool, stale air of the compartment clung to my over-heated skin as I blinked at the now empty space in front of me.
I turned to find Aiden stooping to pick up my coat, retrieving it from where it lay forgotten on the floor.
‘Here,’ he said, his tone clipped. He held out my coat, his face an unreadable mask as he looked past me.
My fingers folded around the fabric of my coat and the sour tang of rejection coated my tongue. My gaze lowered from his face to the floor and silence hung heavy in the air between us, broken only by a loud grinding sound a few moments later when the elevator doors were pried open by a pair of smiling technicians.
We quietly assured the men that we were fine and thanked them for working so quickly. Although in that moment, I couldn’t tell how long they’d taken, only that I wanted to be home and away from whatever had just happened—or not happened.
The elevator had got stuck between the first and second floors, and while the technicians had managed to get the compartment most of the way to the second floor, there was still a large lip that we had to climb up in order to reach the second floor.
I moved towards the door, doing my best to ignore the man beside me, choosing to focus only on the step in front of me. Taking a steadying breath, more than prepared to leave this night behind me, I was just about to step onto the lip of the second floor when I felt a hand press gently against the small of my back. I started, but didn’t allow myself to look back and stepped up and out into the hallway of the second floor.
No sooner had I stepped out of the elevator than Aiden had removed his hand from my back, leaving my skin tingling and acutely aware of the loss.
‘Well—’ I began, trying to keep my tone light.
‘Goodnight, Charlotte,’ Aiden cut in.
My eyes darted to his face—searching for what, I couldn’t be sure. But the soft yellow lights of the hallway behind him cast harsh shadows over Aiden’s face, making it impossible to read.
‘Goodnight Aiden,’ I whispered, confused by the stab of disappointment that I felt as I watched him walk away.