Chapter Ten #2
Aiden lowers his mouth and brushes his lips against mine.
I open for him, but he doesn’t take advantage of it, straightening up instead, sliding one hand underneath my hair, caressing the back of my head gently with his fingertips while the other hand remains firmly planted on my waist. I feel the heat and roughness of his hand, yet the gentleness of his touch, and I think I’m going to be undone by this man.
“Hi,” Aiden says, staring at me through the inky fringe of his lashes.
“Hi,” I say, losing myself in his beautiful eyes.
“You look gorgeous,” he says, his fingers still working magic in my hair. I don’t think he has any idea of what he is doing to me right now with such a simple move.
“You’re ruining me, you know,” I say playfully.
A quizzical look appears on his face. “What?”
“You’re completely relaxing me by playing with my hair. I love the way that feels.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Then I promise I’ll make note of that.”
With that promise, all the feelings about this being wrong, all the guilt over what we’re doing, dissipate. Aiden is the kind of man who pays attention. Things that make me happy matter to him, and he wants to remember them.
And if I had any lingering guilt over dating Aiden, it’s completely gone now.
“Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes,” I say. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“A glass of water would be fine,” he says, continuing to caress the back of my head with his fingers. “And can I see the chinchillas?”
I think I fell a little bit in love with Aiden right now.
“Of course.” I head into the kitchen, and Aiden picks up his baseball cap, setting it on the breakfast bar.
“Nice apartment,” he says, looking around.
It’s different from Aiden’s minimalistic Scandinavian decor. Yes, I have floor-to-ceiling windows like he does, and I have views of the glittering high rises surrounding me and the Intercoastal Waterway.
But my decor has more warmth to it. My sofa is white linen, very cushy, with lots of coral and white throw pillows on it.
Over the back of the sofa, I have three framed art prints of coral hanging on the wall.
The round coffee table is made of brown woven rope for a beachy vibe.
I have a leafy palm planted in the corner of the room, bringing green into the space.
There’s one rattan barrel chair with a white cushion.
The white bookshelves around the TV hold a few things—coral sculptures, framed photographs, and some candles and vases.
“Thank you,” I say. “I wanted that beachy feel.”
“Appropriate, because you live on Biscayne Bay,” Aiden says.
“I completely fell in love with the location. I have everything nearby and I can look at the ocean every night.”
I open the sleek greige-colored cupboard door and retrieve a glass. “Ice?”
“Lots.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Aiden’s eyes meet mine. “Good.”
It’s not said, but an understanding passes between us. We’re remembering these little things about each other because this is going to go somewhere.
I fill the glass with ice and then water, setting it in front of Aiden. He thanks me and takes a sip, then sets the glass down. “It smells really good in here,” he says.
“Thank you. It’s one of the few things I can make well. I’m not a great cook. But enchiladas I can do.” Then I laugh. “Unfortunately, my whole apartment smells like a Mexican restaurant as a result.”
His mouth curves up in a smile. “I’m not going to lie to you. It kind of does.”
I smile back at him. “I was thinking earlier I should ask you if you would like a booth or a table and if you’d like to start your meal with chips and salsa.”
Aiden laughs at that, and I feel a warmth running through me because I made him laugh.
“Is the wait longer for a patio table?” he teases.
I giggle.
“Where are the chinchillas?” he asks, looking around.
“In my bedroom. I’ll show you.”
As I move past him, his hand brushes against mine. My heart leaps as Aiden’s fingers entwine with mine, and I hold his hand as I lead him back to my bedroom. I turn on the light and take Aiden over to Mochi and Matcha’s cage.
“Here they are,” I say. “I think they are the cutest things ever.”
“Oh my God, they’re so fluffy!” Aiden says.
“Yes. They’re angoras.”
“I didn’t know there are different types.” He flashes me a sheepish look. “I actually don’t know anything about them.”
“We’ll talk to them for a bit, then I’ll take them out into the living room. I try to let them out as much as I can for playtime.”
I point out Mochi and Matcha to him, explaining that Mochi is the tan one and Matcha is the gray one, and Aiden talks softly to each of them. After a bit, I open the cage door and put my arm in, and Mochi immediately climbs on top of it.
“That’s so cool,” Aiden says.
“Right? They’re unusual pets, but they’re perfect for me. I’m going to take him into the living room, and then I’ll come back and get Matcha.”
I take Mochi and put him down on the hardwood floor. I return for Matcha, and Aiden follows me into the living room.
“We can sit on the floor,” I say. “I’m going to get out their toys first.”
Aiden nods and drops down on the floor, stretching his long legs out in front of him as Mochi and Matcha run around the room.
I open the cabinet underneath my wall-mounted TV and begin removing the toys: a tunnel for them to run through, some chew toys, their exercise wheel, and some chewable sticks.
I sit down next to Aiden, our legs brushing against each other.
Matcha stops to pick up a chew stick, nibbling on it, and I watch Aiden’s face light up as he watches him.
Suddenly Mochi runs up against the breakfast bar counter and leaps off it, and Aiden bursts out laughing. “Wall surfing! Like the video you sent me!”
Okay, the fact that he’s enjoying my babies so much is literally melting me into the floor. “I love how they react to things,” I say.
Mochi comes up and hops up onto my leg. “Look at that!” Aiden says excitedly.
I stroke Mochi under the chin. “Right? They can be affectionate. Would you like to pet him?”
“Can I?”
My heart swells when I hear the eagerness in his voice. “Yeah, just stroke him under the chin. That’s his favorite spot.”
Aiden reaches out his long fingers and softly strokes Mochi’s chest. “He’s so soft.”
“I know. And if you come over here enough, he might even come and sit on your leg.”
Then I realize what I said and my heart sinks.
“What?” Aiden asks, reaching up and tucking some of my hair behind my ear.
“I don’t know how often you can come over,” I say matter-of-factly. “I was thinking about this right before you got here, Aiden. How you have to walk through my lobby. People might spot you here. Maybe it’s easier if I just go to your place.”
“No,” he says firmly.
“No?”
He shakes his head. “I won’t ask that of you. And I don’t want to.”
“But Aiden, we have to keep this under wraps. It’s easier if I go to you, in your building, where people won’t recognize me.”
“Scarlett. We’re already sacrificing a lot the way it is. I can’t take you out to dinner or for a coffee. I can’t touch you in public, let alone be seen with you. But give up coming to your place? Your home? No. I will take the risk.”
“But why?”
“Because this is where your heart is. And I want to get to know it.”