5. Aiden
5
AIDEN
“ I ’m assuming you’d like to RSVP yes to the fundraiser, right?” Rory asks without looking up from her phone. She came by this morning to review upcoming events, and I’d be lying if I said these work sessions weren’t the highlight of my days. Even when we’re just going through schedules and contracts, having her here in my space makes everything feel…well, so much fucking better.
“Yeah,” I say. “Definitely RSVP yes.”
The fundraiser isn’t just another event. Making sure kids can access baseball programs, getting them proper equipment, offering scholarships—it’s about opening doors that would otherwise stay closed. I grew up watching other kids show up to practice with brand new gloves while I played with my cousin’s old hand-me-downs. Now I get to help make sure other kids don’t face those same barriers.
Rory nods, typing. “And should I mark you down for a plus one?”
There’s only one person I want to bring, and she’s standing right here in my kitchen. Ever since she came back into my life, my feelings for her have been spiraling like crazy, demanding more attention every day. But I can’t ask her. It wouldn’t be appropriate—she works for me. The lines have to stay clear.
Except...it’s not actually a date. Just a work event.
“Would you come with me?”
She looks up from her phone, startled. “What?”
“To the fundraiser. Would you like to be my plus one?”
“I don’t understand.” Her fingers still on the screen.
“I think it’d be nice to have you there.” I keep my voice even, but my heart is pounding so goddamn hard, like I’m asking her on a date.
“As your assistant?”
“No.” I meet her eyes. “Just as you, Rory.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “It’s black tie. I don’t have anything to wear.”
“There’s plenty of time to shop. I know a great place that rents formal wear. I’ll give them a call, set everything up. You can pick whatever you want—it’s covered.”
She hesitates, working her bottom lip between her teeth. “If you really want me there, I can come.”
I want to tell her how badly I want it. How I’ve barely been able to think about anything but her. How I’ve pictured a thousand different ways to cross this line between us, consequences be damned. If she wasn’t my assistant, I’d confess it all in a heartbeat.
But all I can say to her is this: “I really want you there.”
Three weeks later, I’m knocking on Rory’s door, feeling giddier than I should for the evening ahead. When she answers, I’m rendered speechless. The long silky black dress she’s wearing fits her perfectly, hugging her thick hips like the silhouette was made for her. Her hair is pulled back in a low bun, and her lips are cherry-red with lipstick. But none of it is more beautiful than her eyes. Jesus, she’s gorgeous. I knew she’d look good, but this is almost more than I can take.
“You look amazing,” I croak out.
Rory smiles. “Thanks. You look nice, too.”
“I feel like I should’ve brought you a corsage or something.”
She laughs. “What, like it’s prom?”
We head toward the waiting car, our footsteps falling into rhythm. “Yeah. I never went to prom. At the time, I thought I was too cool for it. Looking back, I wish I’d gone.”
“I didn’t go, either.”
The car is waiting for us at the curb. I open the back door for her, and she slides in, the silk of her dress slipping over the leather seats. I get in beside her.
“You didn’t, huh?” I say. “Did you feel too cool for it, too?”
“No.” She smooths her dress over her knees, keeping her eyes down. “No one asked me.”
I feel a pang of guilt, as if it was all my fault. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“It’s okay. Really not a big deal, in the grand scheme of things.”
“Well, maybe tonight will sort of make up for it.”
She smiles, but then her eyes widen. “Wait, there’s dancing at this thing, isn’t there? Oh, God. I need to warn you that I’m a terrible dancer.”
I laugh. “Define terrible.”
“Terrible as in you’ll regret inviting me as your plus one.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“I’m not kidding. I have no sense of rhythm whatsoever. Please tell me we don’t have to dance.”
Now I’m really intrigued. “Tell you what. You give me one dance, I won’t ask for anything else.”
“Are you serious?”
“Rory,” I say in a very solemn voice, “it’s for a good cause.”
She gives me an unamused look in return. But then, shaking her head, she says, “Fine. One dance. But I’m only saying yes because you’re my boss.”
When we arrive at the venue, it’s decked out for the occasion—white flowers everywhere, champagne fountains, the works. But I can barely focus on any of it because of Rory. Her black dress hugs every curve, and she’s radiating beauty in every possible way. My hand hovers near the small of her back as we navigate through the crowd, but I stop myself from actually touching her, knowing that would cross a line I shouldn’t cross.
At our assigned table, I spot my former Stallions teammate Luke and his wife—my sister Thora. They both know exactly how complicated things are with Rory. When they spot us approaching, I catch their quick exchange of glances, but they both stand and introduce themselves to Rory warmly. I’m grateful they’re acting like it’s totally normal that I brought her as my plus one, even though I know I’ll be getting an earful about it later.
Dinner feels dangerously natural. Watching Rory laugh at Luke’s stories about our playing days, seeing her and Thora make easy smalltalk—it all feels right in a way that makes my chest ache. When Luke casually feeds Thora a bite of his steak, telling her she has to try it, I catch myself imagining doing the same with Rory. The thought of that kind of easy intimacy with her, of being able to reach for her hand whenever I want, of having her here not as my assistant but as my date…it’s torture.
Sweet, exquisite torture that I shouldn’t be letting myself think about.
The auction starts after dinner, and Luke and I immediately fall into our old competitive ways. When a dinner for two at an exclusive restaurant comes up, we start driving up the price, grinning at each other across the table like idiots.
“Come on, man,” Luke calls out as I raise my paddle again. “You know Thora’s been dying to try that place.”
I just shrug and raise my bid higher. Back and forth we go until we’ve pushed the dinner package well past $10,000. It’s worth every penny—it’s all going to the kids’ program, and the look on Luke’s face when I win is priceless.
Later, when the DJ starts playing dance music and people begin filling the floor, I turn to Rory with a grin. “Time to pay up on that dance you promised.”
“Oh God,” she mutters, but lets me lead her out there. The bass thrums through us as we start to move, and she wasn’t kidding about having no rhythm—but watching her try to find the beat, her face scrunched in concentration, might be the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen.
“Here,” I say, placing my hands lightly on her hips. Christ, it feels good to touch her. “Just follow the beat like this.” I guide her movements, and after a few moments, she actually starts to get it.
Until I let go, and she loses the rhythm again.
“See?” she says, laughing. “I’m hopeless.”
“No, you’re adorable.”
She flushes, her eyes darting away before meeting my gaze again. As she continues to dance out of sync, she leans in so I can hear her above the music. “That was really amazing, what you did during the auction.”
“It’s for a great cause.” I shrug. “When I was a kid, my parents struggled to pay for extra-curricular stuff. I almost had to quit the team at one point. Now that I can help make sure other kids don’t have to face those same struggles…well, it’s the least I can do.”
She looks up at me then, really looks at me, and the way her expression softens makes my heart bang violently against my ribs.
“I had no idea you grew up like that,” she says. “It’s really good of you to give back.”
The music shifts to something slower, more intimate, and I feel her start to pull away.
“Wait,” I say. “This is a good song.”
“I can’t.” She smiles at me, but there’s something else in her eyes, too. “I gave you one dance, that was the deal.”
Before I can convince her to stay, she moves away. Suddenly she’s moving through the crowd like she can’t get away fast enough.
“Rory!” I push past other couples, trying to keep sight of her black dress in the sea of people. By the time I make it outside, she’s standing at the edge of the valet area, arms wrapped around herself as she stares up at the night sky.
“Are you okay?” I ask, though I can see she’s not.
She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have come tonight.”
“Why not?”
When she meets my eyes, the raw emotion there steals my breath. “You know why.”
And I do. Of course I fucking do. The attraction that’s been simmering between us is impossible to ignore, crackling in the space between us like lightning about to strike.
“You know how fucking badly I want to kiss you right now?” The words come out of my mouth rough and desperate. I shouldn’t say it. But I can’t hold back anymore.
“Aiden, I—” Her voice breaks. “We can’t.”
“I know.” I drag a hand through my hair, probably ruining whatever styling product was in it, but I couldn’t care less. I stare up at the stars, trying to get my racing pulse under control, trying to remember all the reasons this can’t happen.
Finally, I look back at her. “I’ll call the car. Let me take you home.”
The ride back is excruciating. Neither of us speaks, but I’m acutely aware of every breath she takes, every slight movement of her dress against the seats. When we pull up to her building, the driver announces, “We’re here, miss.”
Rory is out of the car before I can even move to open her door for her. I watch her walk away, my hands clenched into fists in my lap. Then something in me snaps.
“Wait,” I bark at the driver.
And then I’m out of the car and running after her before I can think better of it.
I catch her just as she’s unlocking her front door. She gasps as I come up behind her, spinning to face me, and Christ, the way she looks up at me with those big beautiful eyes—it takes everything in me not to kiss her.
Instead, I say, “You need to find another job.” My voice comes out rough, almost angry, but I can’t help it. The need to touch her, to taste her, is driving me crazy.
She gapes at me. “Are you firing me?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
Several heated seconds pass as she stares into my eyes. “I want you to.”
A growl of frustration tears from my throat. “I need a justifiable reason to fire you, Rory.”
“I’m sure there’s something I haven’t been doing well.”
“No, that’s the goddamn problem—you do everything perfect.”
“That can’t be true.”
“For fuck’s sake, Rory.” I’m breathing hard now, my control hanging by a thread. All I can think about is how goddamn gorgeous she is, how badly I want her, how impossibly complicated this whole situation is. “I’m going crazy. Tell me what to do. Either tell me to do the right thing and walk away, or tell me to kiss you.”