Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
“Well the date obviously worked.” Ida shot me a smug look. “But before I continue with my thoughts on Rosie and Aiden’s submission this week, I want to hear everyone else’s.”
Logan raised his hand immediately. I shot him a warning look, but he was very purposely not looking my way. “You two did a great job of creating a romantic atmosphere. The way we got Hunter’s chapter before the date, where he showed his vulnerability, really evoked the feeling of falling for someone.”
Ida hummed from the front of the room.
“It’s falling before you even know it,” Tyler said quietly.
“Exactly,” Jess said. “And the date .” She shot me an apologetic glance before she said, “I think whatever happened on your mock date really worked. Max and Hunter finally opened up to each other. I’m rooting for them now.”
We got plenty of other comments like that, too, and I tried my best to scribble them all down. Since the asshole commanded it, I had finished the chapter without him. And now he wouldn’t meet my gaze, which pissed me off just the tiniest bit.
He was taking notes, but his pencil moved back and forth slowly. I leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of his paper. Part of me thought he wasn’t even taking notes, and I wanted to catch him in the act.
Growing more and more frustrated, I started to bounce my leg. At first, I did it subtly, only hitting the table every other time. I watched him as I did it, but his guarded expression didn’t loosen.
So I sped up.
His jaw tightened and finally, finally , he looked up at me. He glowered at me. His pencil was making sharper movements on his paper, but he was still looking at me.
I smiled sweetly at him and went faster.
“Just like Max and Hunter,” Logan muttered under his breath.
Aiden’s neck snapped toward him. He gave him a death glare that made Logan shrink back and send a panicked glance to Jess. Even though Logan wrote some of the scariest horror I’d ever read, he was still petrified of Aiden.
Aiden’s gaze snapped back toward me, but I wouldn’t back down.
“Knock it off,” he mouthed.
“Never,” I mouthed back.
“This is what we need out of a romance to start with,” Ida said, dragging our attention away from each other. “But I need more . More stolen touches and physicality—the good parts of a romance. You’re close, but it’s not there.”
I shot Aiden a look as an idea popped in my head. What if we went out on another fake date? We’d been so closed off to each other and that night was the closest we’d gotten to opening up.
He must’ve known what I was thinking because he immediately shook his head.
“You’re right,” I spoke up quickly, before Aiden could stop me. “We’ll go on another fake date.”
“But more romance this time,” Ida said, hesitantly. “Are you sure you two are okay with this?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said before Aiden could answer her. “I’ll plan it this time so it’ll definitely be more romantic.”
“I picked a literal candlelit restaurant,” Aiden protested.
“And it was a good start, but we need a little more.”
“What’s more romantic than a candlelit Italian dinner?”
“Look, if you’re in Lady and the Tramp ,” I countered, “it’s plenty romantic—”
Aiden rolled his eyes. “ Lady and the Tramp ? Did I miss the part where we shared the same piece of spaghetti?”
“Oh, you wish we—”
Ida cleared her throat, cutting us off. “Everything okay over there?”
“Of course,” I said quickly.
She tsked. “Regardless of what you two do in your free time, I expect the romance to progress in the next chapters.”
Once we were outside the building, Aiden cornered me the way I’d done to him the other day. Except he used his height to his advantage. My back was against the wall of the building, his hand pressed to it near my ear.
“Ooh so scary,” I teased. My heart was pounding against my chest, which was moving up and down heavily with every breath. He was hovering over me, his eyes boring into mine. I pressed my thighs together as the image of him like this wandered in my mind way farther than I wanted it to. If he hadn’t pissed me off so much, this would’ve been hot.
“What the hell is your problem?” he snapped.
“What’s my problem? What’s yours?” I demanded.
“Why are you proposing fake dates? Wasn’t the first one painful enough?”
“Yes! Which is why we need another one.” I pushed him away from me and glared up at him. “You’re the one who shut down when we were writing the chapter. If you hadn’t, maybe Ida would’ve thought it was romantic enough.”
“I didn’t shut down,” he said tersely. “I had to go, that’s all.”
“Oh please, you deleted half of it.”
“You’re the one who wouldn’t stop shaking the fucking table. You’re the one who said our date wasn’t romantic enough.”
“Well, it wasn’t!” I moved past him and started to make my way toward Union Square. It was rush hour, and I was hoping I’d get lost in the crowd. I walked quickly, my height finally an advantage as I blended into the crowd.
Suddenly a hand wrapped around my wrist. Aiden pulled me out of the throngs of people.
“Don’t walk away,” he growled.
“I’m over it,” I said. “I’m over you . If we can’t have a friendly conversation—”
“A friendly conversation? It felt more like an interrogation—”
“How can I get it through your head? That was Max and Hunter , not Aiden and Rosie.”
“Great!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Then romance me, Rosalinda! You’re the romance expert. Since I did such a shit job at it, plan the perfect second date for Maxine and Hunter.”
He stalked off. I curled my fists at my side and shouted after him, “It’s Max!”
By the time the weekend hit, my plan for our date was falling perfectly into place. Winter in New York was nearly in full force, gusts of wind and rare hints of sunlight made walking outside unbearable. And on a cloudy day like today it was near frigid .
A nice, long walk with Aiden sounded perfect .
I was willing to suffer for the greater good. I had thick tights on under my jeans, an extra sweater on under my coat, and gloves and a hat safely secured in my tote bag. That peacoat alone wouldn’t keep Aiden warm.
I texted him to meet me at one of my favorite parks, Jefferson Market Garden. I had stumbled upon this park in the Village when I first got to New York. It was small, but they always had two food trucks hanging around there at lunch time. It had walkways with hedges surrounding the trees and a fountain. In the summer, there were colorful flowers everywhere, but in the thick of winter, they had hung fairy lights between the trees and fence.
We were supposed to meet around two. The park was just a fifteen minute train ride for me, so I left at five after two to make him suffer just a bit longer in the cold.
Twenty minutes later, because I knew I could rely on the MTA being unreliable, I found Aiden at the entrance of the park, his shoulders pulled to his ears and his chin tucked against his chest. I smiled in victory at the sight of his peacoat. He was blowing air into his bare hands, trying to keep warm in the cold.
“I got here early, just so you know,” he said as I approached him. His breath puffed in a cloud in front of him. “You shouldn’t be late for dates.”
I tsked at him. “Fashionably late.”
“Can we just go to the restaurant? It’s freezing out here.”
“Sure.” I shrugged. I moved to stand between the two trucks sitting outside the park. “Take your pick.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and smiled up at him. He had slicked his hair back again, and I hated how handsome it made him look.
He gave me an incredulous look as he looked between the two trucks. “You can’t be serious.”
“Is something wrong?” I asked innocently.
“It’s freezing, Rosalinda,” he clipped. “I’m not eating outside.”
“Well, I’m hungry. Feel free to leave, but you’ll have to explain that to Ida.” I stepped toward one of the trucks, pushing myself up on my tiptoes to see over the makeshift counter.
“Hey, Rosie.” Mateo smiled down at me from the truck. “Do me a favor and go to hers today?” He nodded toward the second truck. “Business has been sparse.”
“Aw, c’mon, I want tacos, not a burrito,” I whined.
“It’ll be on the house next time. Please.”
“Fine.” I stalked over to Juanita’s truck.
“Rosie!” she said, delighted, standing from the small chair she had in her truck. “In the mood for a burrito?”
“Always.” I smiled. “Any progress with Mateo?”
“None.” She pouted as she dumped food into the tortilla. Aiden stepped forward next to me, observing the menu.
“I told you,” I said to Juanita, “He likes you. Just go talk to him!”
“No way.” She shook her head. “If he likes me so much, he can come over here.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that he’s shy?” I raised an eyebrow, but she only huffed.
“Well, I’m shy, too.” She eyed Aiden. “And for you?”
He shrugged. “Whatever she’s having.”
Juanita’s hands started moving quickly, collecting ingredients.
“It’s nearly a year now that we’ve been working out here together. If he wanted to make a move, he would’ve. Besides, he told me this morning when we were setting up he was thinking of moving his truck to Washington Square.”
“But only for finals at NYU!”
“We all know when he moves his truck and rakes in the money with those college kids, he’s never coming back,” she said sadly. She handed Aiden the burrito wrapped in tinfoil.
I pulled my wallet from my bag, but Aiden held out his hand to stop me.
“I got it.”
I shook my head. “I asked you, I’ll pay.”
“Rosie, it’s okay.”
“Juanita, don’t take his money.”
“Whatever you say, hija.” She smiled affectionately at me as I slid over a twenty and slipped the change in her tip jar.
“Talk to him tonight,” I called out as we walked away.
“Shh.” She widened her eyes in the direction of Mateo’s truck.
I turned to Aiden. “You ready?”
I led him to the semisecluded path and stopped in front of the benches. “You get to make one choice on this very romantic date. Do we sit or do we walk?”
Aiden studied the small walking loop and the benches. Then he peered down at me, watching me carefully.
“What?” I asked, shifting under his gaze. His stare could be really intimidating when he wanted it to be.
“I’m trying to figure out which one you want to do less.”
“Okay, that’s it, we’re walking. Let’s go.”
We unwrapped our burritos, letting the dead, fallen leaves crunch beneath our feet.
“What was that all about?” Aiden asked between bites.
“What do you mean?”
“With the two food trucks? And what you were saying to her.”
I blushed slightly, pulling my lip between my teeth. “My first couple of weeks here, I took a lot of walks. I stumbled upon this park and the two of them are always here. Turns out, they’re both really into each other but won’t say anything. Mateo often sells more than Juanita and when he does, he asks me to go to her truck in exchange for free tacos next time.”
“Why haven’t they said anything?” he asked softly. I could feel the heat of his gaze on the side of my face as we walked.
I sighed. “It’s complicated. They’re both too shy and too scared of rejection so neither of them wants to ask the other out. But Juanita tells me that Mateo always helps her pack up at the end of the night if he finishes first, and he makes sure she leaves safely.”
“Hmm,” Aiden said, eyebrows furrowed.
“I’ll admit, the burritos aren’t that great, but I’m too invested in their relationship to go somewhere else. I’m hoping I’ll be asked to be a bridesmaid or something at their eventual wedding.”
“You really do love romance, huh?” He eyed me, and I could tell he was genuinely curious, not just trying to make fun of me.
I nodded, taking another bite. “In movies, books, food trucks, you name it.”
He hummed and silence fell between us. We walked the loop a few times, eating away. There were a few benches and tables scattered around the park, but they were covered by frost and snow from a few days ago. The flowers that were usually in bloom were hidden beneath the ground. The stretches of green lawn, even covered in snow, were comforting to me. To have a small space with nothing but nature surrounding me felt, even for just a moment, like I was home again.
I wanted to fall into conversation with him like we had in our chapter. It was so easy on paper; why was it so hard in person?
By the time we walked the loop a fourth time, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I can’t take this.”
Aiden slowed, lifting his brows. “Is the burrito too spicy?”
I squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. “What? No. I can’t take this anymore.” I motioned between the two of us. “I’d literally rather do calculus than walk around this circle again without saying anything.” I moved to stand in front of him so he’d stop walking. “I can’t act like we have nothing to say to each other, then vomit it out on our doc.”
Aiden turned away sharply. The tips of his ears were pink, but I didn’t know if it was from the cold or something else. He pulled his lips into a thin line and for a brief moment, I thought he was going to walk away.
He tossed his tin foil wrapper in the nearby trash can. “Tell me more about Tennessee.”
I smiled and said, “You’re not getting out of talking, but okay.”
I told him about my summer days as a kid. When my dad would set the sprinkler up in the front yard, and my mom would bring out a tray of homemade lemonade. How my dad tried so hard to learn Spanish for my mom and made Peruvian Independence Day special for her. He would spend hours stringing up lights in our backyard and curating the perfect playlist for the party.
“What made you decide to move to New York?” Aiden was walking with his hands tucked into the pockets of his peacoat, his head titled just a fraction to hear me.
I tossed my head back and forth, not wanting to dump Simon and my lifelong dreams of New York on him. Simon wanted me to stay, and I thought I loved Simon, so I stayed.
“Enough about me,” I said. “Tell me more about what it was like growing up here.”
“Boring,” he said dismissively. “You’ve asked me this a million times, and I always tell you the same thing. Tell me more about that diner you worked at.”
“Oh no you don’t. You’re not getting out of talking about yourself.” I tugged on his arm.
His eyes roamed my face for a moment before he gave me a small smile, conceding. He tentatively told me stories, and it occurred to me that maybe Aiden was shy. Sure, he was still a raging asshole, but it seemed like he also didn’t really feel comfortable talking about himself. It was only when I would nod or respond to what he said that he would keep going.
When he let it slip that he hadn’t ever visited most of New York’s most famous tourist attractions, I paused and faced him. “You’re telling me that you, Aiden Huntington, native New Yorker since birth have never been to the top of the Empire State Building.”
He shrugged. “Plenty of New Yorkers haven’t.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s not only a historic New York landmark, but a historic romance one.”
He side eyed me. “What sense does that make?”
“Tom Hanks. Meg Ryan. Sleepless in Seattle. Cary Grant. An Affair to Remember. Top of the Empire State building. Supremely romantic.”
“I haven’t seen either.”
“Aiden, I might puke. That’s so horrible.” He wasn’t smiling, but it was as close as Aiden probably got. It hit me, out of nowhere, that I would do anything to keep that shy smile on his face. There was a light blush on his cheeks from the cold, but he wasn’t complaining about the weather like I’d thought he would.
I hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
He spared me a glance. “As if I could stop you.”
I puffed out a quick breath of air, the white showing in front of me. “Why do you hate romance?”
He stiffened. “Rosalinda,” he warned.
“Anytime someone in workshop introduces a romantic plot line, you turn … vicious. How can something so happy make you so mad?”
Suddenly, he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “It breeds unrealistic expectations.”
“Tell me you didn’t just say ‘breed’ in a conversation about romance.”
He ignored me. “It’s unrealistic.”
“So? Isn’t fiction supposed to be an escape?”
“Sometimes, you just need something to relate to.” He paused and finally met my gaze. He took a long, deep breath, swallowing slowly. “My dad cheated on my mom. He was out with his mistress while she was giving birth to me.” Before I could respond, he continued. “My mom had a hard life. She grew up poor and ran away to New York with him. Even after she discovered his affair, she stayed with him. She thought they were destined for a happy ending.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes.
Slowly, he started walking again, and I trailed behind. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I was trying to worm my way into the small opening he gave me, but he said all of this like it was just a story. As if he was speaking about a character he’d created instead of himself.
“She stayed with him for far too long. At first she thought she won the lottery with him, but”—he shrugged—“turns out my dad’s a piece of shit. Those first years where it was just the two of us were rough. Along the way, I think once she accepted not everyone gets their happy ending, everything changed. She fell in love with herself instead.”
“Aiden, I’m—”
“Tell me why you like romance,” he interrupted. I knew he was desperate to get out of this conversation. He finally looked down at me, and his eyebrows creased down the middle.
I gnawed on my lip. “I don’t know. I just do.”
“Oh please, as if you don’t have some elaborate answer already worked out.” He knocked his elbow against mine.
It was my turn to be vulnerable with him, but I found that I didn’t really mind. I kind of wanted to share my life with him.
“My mom was the one who taught me how to read. She was always so patient with me. She’d point out words on billboards or cereal boxes, anything really to help me. Then she started taking me to the library every day, and we’d sit and read forever in the kids’ nook.”
My heart warmed at the memory of my mom’s soft voice in my ear as we read in our town’s small library.
“She reads a lot of romance novels. She moved here, to the US, for college, so she spent a lot of time in airports, going back and forth for the holidays. She loved the Harlequins and had a collection of them back home. She eventually caught me reading her stack when I was way too young to be reading them.”
Aiden hummed, his cheekbones rising just slightly in amusement.
“She took a Sharpie and blacked out … those scenes, but soon enough I was buying my own at the bookstore.”
A wave of homesickness washed over me. I loved being here and having what felt like the whole world in front of me in just a few blocks, but some days I would give just about anything to be back home on the front porch with my family.
“Even though I was probably too young, she still let me read them because she didn’t want me to miss out on one of her favorite things.”
“And so you love romance because …” His voice was like honey, enveloping me despite the cold. It was low and smooth in comparison to his sharpness in class.
“I guess it’s because no two love stories are alike. I mean, sure, most of them get their happy ending. But no one meets the same way and falls in love the same way. Sometimes you know just after an hour with a person. Or it can span decades. The only thing every love story really has in common is that it’s worth it. Love is always worth fighting for. I mean, that’s why there’s all the songs and poems and movies about it. It has to be something spectacular if everyone’s chasing it.”
“You really believe that, don’t you?” There wasn’t any malice in his voice, just pure curiosity.
I nodded. “I don’t think Happily Ever After is an ‘if’ thing. I think it’s ‘when.’ ”
“If I was as bad as you thought, I’d be killing puppies behind dumpsters.” I paused. “You’re not as bad as I thought either.”
— Excerpt from Untitled by Rosie Maxwell and Aiden Huntington