24. Aaron
24
AARON
N atalie’s kids scampered off to the beach the minute the car parked in the seashell-lined drive.
My aunt and her husband trailed after them while Michelle laughed in delight at the excited children.
Daisy and Reese raced off like a pair of teenagers to Daisy’s parents’ house, where I was sure her mother would greet them with hugs and lemonade and cookies or some equally wholesome snack.
“The kids are always so excited about the beach.” Michelle wrapped her arm around Bill. “I’m going to watch them play in the water.”
“I don’t feel well,” Emily said petulantly.
“Let me see if the chef can fix you something.” Michelle’s attention turned to her daughter.
“She needs some water. You didn’t stay hydrated, did you?” Bill worried.
I should have gone and tried to comfort my mother. Instead, I stole glances to the Coleman house while helping the driver ferry the bags into Bill and Michelle’s living room.
I didn’t know if I wanted Daisy to run to me and beg me to come visit her parents’ house or not.
I was sure she’d worn that outfit just to fuck with me—the top that scooped low and invited me to bury my face in her cleavage, the little cutoff jean shorts that didn’t do enough to cover the dimples under her ass, her hair up in a messy bun that I wanted to release, let the curls veil her face.
I needed a break from her was all.
As much as I despised the Hamptons—always on guard, all the bright sun and hot sand—at least I could sleep on my own.
I paused on the stairs and strangled a curse.
Daisy and I still had to sleep together. No, not like that… well, eventually. But we had to share a bed; the contract demanded it.
This was no vacation from her.
The small blue bedroom on the third floor waited for me. I could barely fit in this bed as it was, and after last night, I wasn’t sleeping that close to her.
There were no hotels on this part of the island. The rich people wanted to keep out the middle-class riffraff. Any boutique bed-and-breakfasts had been booked up six months ago, and the yacht I had borrowed from my brother—because I refused to buy a boat; they were money pits—had already chugged back to Manhattan.
I didn’t dare sleep at her parents’ house.
My mother would flip her shit.
Maybe Emily didn’t have to know. I could sneak over there at night, climb up the trellis, and swing onto the balcony like Romeo.
As if you’re some na?ve, wide-eyed teenage boy.
My life was more like a Shakespearean tragedy than a romance.
I sat down heavily on the bed, rubbing my forehead. Fifteen days. And if I could make it through this weekend, I could make it through the two weeks after that.
Downstairs, a door slammed. Female voices exchanged happy greetings.
If it was Daisy, she’d come up to harass me, and if it wasn’t, I didn’t want to deal with anyone else.
I needed coffee. The stuff on the boat had basically been water with food coloring.
“There you are.”
I stood up abruptly, making my head crash into the low-sloped ceiling of the stuffy attic bedroom.
“Oh no!” Aurora laughed, reaching out and cupping my head. “You’re too tall to stay in here. They won’t give you a different room?”
“It’s fine.” No one had ever offered, and I never asked. “I’m never here that often.”
“I know! I’ve barely seen you all summer,” Aurora remarked, gesturing for me to bend down so she could take a closer look at my head.
“It’s not the first time. You’d think I’d remember the ceiling’s so low.”
“And maybe remember to close the curtains?” she said pointedly.
I glanced up.
There, on her balcony, staring at me from across the shared driveway, was Daisy. Her anger shot like a laser beam through the small dormer window in the bedroom.
“Oh my god,” Aurora murmured, turning back to me. “She doesn’t know, does she?” Her tone was accusatory.
“Know what?” I sat back down on the bed then stood up.
Aurora grabbed my shoulder before I could hit my head again.
“You shouldn’t lead her on, Aaron. You know how emotional Daisy is. You shouldn’t have let her fall in love with you. Poor thing.” Aurora gazed out the window. “It’s sad, really. She was always obsessed with you in school.”
“No, she wasn’t,” I said quickly. “She hated me.”
Daisy disappeared from the balcony once the curtains were drawn, but I knew she was watching me through the crack in the drapes.
“Rumor has it you’re supposed to ‘consummate’ the marriage.” Aurora used air quotes.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from the window.
Aurora sighed.
“Look, I practice family law, and word to the wise—marriage makes people crazy. If you don’t want her to blow up that contract, you better do the deed before she finds out that your mom expects you to ask me to marry you as soon as the divorce papers are filed.”