Chapter Six
I’ve just latched my seat belt when my phone buzzes inside the cup holder, where I’ve just put it down. I reach for it, and my heart stops when I see I have a message from Aiden:
Text me when you get home? I need to know that you got home okay.
Is the man trying to make me cry even more?
I glance up and see Aiden staring at me from his place near the door, and it makes my heart ache inside my chest. I text him back that I will and then put my phone back in the cup holder. I drive off, not looking at Aiden again, because the expression in his eyes haunts me.
Aiden is the perfect man for me. He’s the only man I want. He’s just exceptional, in every way.
Yet he can never ever be mine. Aiden can’t even be mine for a single date.
I blink away the tears and try to pretend my chest isn’t heavy.
I try to focus on the pop song on my playlist, but instead of singing the words, I find myself thinking of the irony of my situation.
I finally meet a man who I have great chemistry with, who can engage in conversation, and who wanted to simply get to know me over coffee—but he plays hockey for my dad.
And Aiden flat out said he would never date the coach’s daughter.
My thoughts stay looped in this track all the way back to my apartment.
I head straight back to my bedroom, where I find Mochi and Matcha waiting for me.
Chinchillas are nocturnal animals, and you would think having their cage in my room would be distracting when trying to sleep, but it’s not.
Probably because I am a heavy sleeper, and once I’m out, I’m out.
Mochi and Matcha can party all night long, and I’m none the wiser.
I’m going to be up thinking for a while this evening, so I let them out of their condo.
Mochi comes right up and sits on my leg, and I stroke his silky fur.
Matcha goes about the room, enjoying his free-roaming time.
I pick up my phone and tap on the last message from Aiden so I can send him a reply:
I’m home! Thank you again for coffee. I really enjoyed hanging out with you tonight.
There. That’s fine for a friend to say, right?
I go back to stroking Mochi for a few minutes before he jumps down off my leg. I’m watching them play when my phone buzzes again. My stupid heart leaps when I see Aiden has messaged me back:
I’m home, too. Are you going to be up for a while?
I text him back:
Yep. I’m up with my chinchillas right now.
Aiden Wentworth is typing …
Can I call you? After I take Milo out?
I bite my lip. GAH, this is dangerous. I should say no and protect my heart from getting anymore entangled than it already is.
But we’ve decided to be friends. Friends talk to each other on the phone or do Connectivity Video Connects.
UGH, I am so full of crap right now.
I ignore that fact, as I obviously love playing with fire when it comes to Aiden, and respond:
Yes. I’ll change and wash my face while you walk Milo and then we can talk. Do you want to do a call or Connectivity Video Connect?
Aiden Wentworth is typing …
Video. Then you can show me your chinchillas.
Okay, the fact that this gorgeous, sexy man wants to see my chinchillas melts my heart.
I type back:
I’ll send you a Connect request, and after you accept, you can call me. And see Mochi and Matcha.
I insert a smiling emoji at the end of my sentence and hit send.
Aiden replies with an “OK,” and I immediately tap open the icon for Connectivity on my phone.
I type in “Aiden Wentworth” and find two things for him: a public page for fans and then a personal account.
I submit a Connect request on his personal account and then pop up from the floor, heading into the bathroom to start my bedtime routine, from taking off my makeup to applying toner …
serum … under-eye moisturizer … nighttime moisturizer…
I twist my lips in thought. I wonder if I truly need all this to keep my skin youthful. I’m just out of college. How much could my face possibly age in one year?
But I know why there’s a stupid amount of my paycheck sitting in these bottles and jars on my marble countertop, and it’s not for the mortal fear of aging skin.
I’m a skin-care junkie.
I love a good skin-care routine. There’s something very soothing about following the steps. My skin feels good after I do it, and I like having it as part of my routine twice a day.
Even if I could get the same results with just a cleanser and moisturizer.
Also, I kind of get a rush when testing a new product. Actually, the whole process of buying skin care. Reading about the products. Deciding if they could be good for my skin. Putting them in my online cart and mulling them over. Then purchasing and waiting for them to come in the mail …
I wrinkle my nose. I’m such a weirdo.
I push that thought aside, go through my skin-care routine, and then remove the ponytail holder and pins from my hair.
I brush it out, then change into a T-shirt and shorts and climb into bed.
I put my phone on my charging stand and angle it toward me, then sit up against my pillows and headboard, and wait for Aiden to call.
I pick up my Kindle and open the book I’m reading, but I can’t concentrate on it to save my life.
Buzz!
My phone lights up, and I see Aiden is trying to make a Video Connect. I answer his call, trying to ignore how excited I am.
I’m about to say “hey” when I’m stunned into silence. Aiden has changed into a white T-shirt that stretches tight across his chest. He’s wearing a black baseball cap backward, sitting in what appears to be his living room.
Oh, he looks so good in that backward baseball hat. And he’s so hot in that white T-shirt that’s hugging his athletic body.
“You look ready for bed,” Aiden says.
“I will be in a bit. I have to go to work tomorrow. But it’s the offseason, so I can go in later, which is nice.”
“Very nice,” he says.
“Is Wyatt not home yet?” I ask.
Aiden furrows his brow. “Wyatt?”
“I assumed you two lived together.”
“Negative. I lived with him when I first arrived in Miami, but there’s no way I could ever live with Wyatt on a permanent basis.”
“Really? How come?”
“How much time do you have?”
“Enough time for you to tell me,” I declare.
Aiden pushes down on his baseball hat. “Let me start by saying Wyatt and I are close. We’d be best friends even if we weren’t brothers.
But we live completely different lifestyles.
He was a mess. Like if he changed his shirt, he dropped it wherever he was and left it there.
It never made it to a laundry hamper. If he drank a coffee in the living room, the cup would stay there until the maid came or I gave up and took it to the kitchen sink. ”
I make a face. “That would drive me crazy.”
“It did drive me crazy. Wyatt is also into hooking up—hey, good for him, but I walked in on more naked women than I care to count.”
I laugh at that. “Oh no.”
“So needless to say, we both needed our privacy. I moved out right before the season started. I got a condo in South Beach, and I have no regrets.”
“Or coffee mugs on your end tables?” I tease.
“Yes,” he says, smiling at me. “And instead of seeing my brother naked and hooking up, I have a great view of the ocean. Let’s just say I’m much happier in my own space.”
Suddenly I see Matcha popcorning across the room and I quickly grab my phone. “Okay, change of subject, but do you want to see my chinchillas popcorning?”
“What?” Aiden asks, looking confused.
“When chinchillas are happy, they jump. It’s called popcorning. Want to see it?”
“Hell yes, I want to see this.”
I turn the phone around so it’s facing Matcha. He suddenly pops up in the air, and I hear Aiden laugh. I keep the phone on Matcha for a bit, catching a few more of his jumps, and then turn it back around on me. “That is popcorning. Isn’t it cute?”
“Popcorning is the right word for it. So that means he’s happy?”
“Yep. Or it can mean they’re excited to see their owner.”
Aiden’s eyes flicker sexily at me. “I can understand that.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!
Wait. Not OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH. We’re friends. I must remember that.
“They also wall surf. That’s when they run and bounce off the walls. That’s also a happy thing. I have a video of it, I’ll have to send that to you.”
“Yeah, do send it to me, I want to see it.”
We continue to talk just like we did at the hotel. It’s so natural and easy between us. We can be silly. We can laugh, but also talk about serious things. I’ve never had a conversation like this with another man.
Aiden is different, my heart once again reminds me.
“Your eyes are starting to look heavy,” he suddenly says. “I should let you go. I know you have to work, and I have a game tomorrow.”
I blink. I’ve been getting tired, but I’m shocked he noticed that.
He really pays attention.
“You’re right. Posting soccer reels on social media waits for no one,” I say. “I’ll just make sure to get caffine before heading into the office.”
“Same,” Aiden says. He clears his throat. “Are you going to the game tomorrow?”
My heart races inside my chest. “I usually go to home games if I can,” I say, wondering where this is going. “During the Real Miami season, I rarely go because I’m working a lot of nights, and I need time to take care of things at home. Or just not have anywhere to be, if that makes sense.”
“It does. When does the season start for Real Miami?”
“They start training again in January. Oh! Do you know where they’re going for training camp this year?”
“No, but I suspect you’re going to tell me,” Aiden teases.
“Smart ass. Yes, I am going to tell you. Portugal! So I get to go to Portugal for two weeks!”
“Portugal? Wow, that’s incredible.”
“I know. I’ve seen the resort we’re going to and it’s gorgeous. I’m so excited.”
“I can tell. But I’d be excited, too, if I got to do training camp in Portugal.”
I’m about to talk some more about the trip, but I remember we’re supposed to be ending the call. “Sorry. I’m keeping you longer on the phone.”
“I don’t mind,” Aiden says softly.
I wish I could control how my heart reacts to his expressions or change in voice. Because it’s fluttering again right now.
I clear my throat. “But yes, I love hockey, I try to go to as many games as I can.”
“So you’ll be there tomorrow night?”
I hadn’t made any definite plans to go to the game, but when I look at Aiden, I already know what I’m doing tomorrow night.
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
Aiden’s eyes meet mine. “Good. It will be nice to have a familiar face in the crowd.”
A shiver races down my spine from the way he’s looking at me.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yeah,” Aiden says. “Good night, Scarlett.”
God, I love the way my name sounds coming from his lips.
I say good night and hang up. I draw a breath of air, my head and heart engaged in a battle over Aiden.
I’m already getting into a dangerous situation. Yes, I’m going to the game as a friend. My head knows that.
But my heart is going as someone who now has a huge crush on Aiden.
UGH. I put my head in my hands. I’m being so stupid right now. Nothing will ever come of this.
Aiden told me that himself tonight. He not only plays for my dad, but he’s the alternate captain. He will never ask me out.
Yet my heart is overruling my head and putting me in these situations that will only hurt me in the end.
Why? Why am I doing this to myself?
I drop my hands from my face. I know why. I’m doing it because I like him.
It’s stupid and reckless. Yet my heart doesn’t care. I want these moments with Aiden.
And I will take them however I can get them.
Starting tomorrow night at the Miami Manatees game.