Chapter 7
7
Daniel
D aniel couldn’t explain why he felt so on edge.
Perhaps it had something to do with the events of last night and how he’d come between Aria and Brett without a second thought. Or maybe it was the fact that she’d come to thank him earlier today.
He watched her from across the small table before he took another bite of the pasta she’d brought for dinner. She really was a good cook. She was also beautiful—no mistaking that. Intelligence and a willingness to help were also ideal qualities in a potential partner. He couldn’t help but wonder if the real Aria had yet to reveal herself. Maybe her flirtatiousness was just a cover. Something told him she didn’t trust easily, and for some reason he could appreciate that, too.
Unfortunately, she talked too much. Since his arrival, that was all she did during the dinners they shared.
Talk, talk, talk.
She couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was the most irritating thing when all he wanted was some peace and quiet.
Except now, he had it.
She hadn’t taken her eyes off her food since she’d dished up their plates.
The silence between them was deafening, and it was putting him on edge. A couple days ago, the quiet would have been a welcome addition to their meals together. Now, he couldn’t help but feel this was the calm before the storm.
Earlier when she’d thanked him for helping her, he’d figured she was trying to get a rise out of him—to get him talking about how she’d made several mistakes. Well, she had. But that didn’t mean he was the kind of guy to point them out. She didn’t belong to him. He had no reason to lecture her on a situation where she might have become a true victim.
The situation still had his blood boiling. He almost wished Brett had gone a little further so he would have had the excuse to break the man’s nose.
Aria looked up at that moment. Her brows lifted before her features smoothed, and she arched a single brow. “Are you angry with me? Is that what this is?”
His own brows shot up at the realization he’d been scowling at her. He shook his head and dropped his focus to his food. “I’m not angry.”
“Those lines between your brows beg to differ.”
“I’m not angry,” he said, more measured this time.
She snorted, but he refused to meet her gaze. Aria leaned back in her seat, her fork abandoned on her plate. She tapped her fingers on the table and let out a sigh. Her voice shifted from the fake tone he hated so much to something gentler. “I heard about your family.”
Daniel stiffened. What exactly was she referring to? The gossips in town had varying stories about their family. While most of it was right, there was plenty that made him out to be someone he wasn’t. He grimaced inwardly.
Aria tapped her fingers some more. “About your parents leaving your family when you were kids…”
His irritation grew. It didn’t make sense. Everyone in town knew that story. They were the poor kids from the other side of the tracks, and they’d clawed themselves out of that situation to become something more. His jaw worked, and he focused on remaining calm. She didn’t sound like she was judging him—simply musing about his origins.
“You didn’t go to college, did you?” she asked.
His eyes lifted. “Of course not,” he ground out. “When would I have time for that?” Maybe it was the pity in her eyes, but he felt like a fuse ready to blow. Instead of losing his temper with her, he left his chair, plate in hand and moved toward the kitchen sink.
The sound of her chair moving across the wood flooring and her padded footsteps had his muscles growing taut. “I think it’s a shame you couldn’t. You have real talent.” She placed her plate in the sink, her arm brushing up against his. Every nerve in his body woke up with the unintentional touch.
She didn’t pull away, though. Instead, she kept talking, her voice thoughtful. “I realized something earlier today. I thought you were closed off because you had something to hide.”
He barely had the strength to refrain from whirling on her and telling her she didn’t know what she was talking about. He kept his jaw tight and flipped on the water to start on the dishes. He didn’t owe her anything. Besides, she was hiding as much as he was. Anyone with eyes could see it. He couldn’t figure out why those in her life hadn’t pointed it out already.
Aria’s hand touched his forearm, and he froze. It wasn’t like the way she’d touched him before. This one was more gentle, less fake. Tension crackled in the air. She was so close, and warmth emanated from her in waves. Her low voice danced along the nerves in his body. “I know what it’s like to close yourself off from people—because it’s the only way you feel safe.”
Daniel jerked away from her and shut off the water. “Is that what you’re doing?”
She startled when he pulled away. Her wide eyes showed him the first genuine response he’d noticed since they’d met. “I beg your pardon?”
He shook the water from his hands, dried them, and then crossed his arms as he leaned his hip against the counter. “You can’t honestly believe you’re fooling anyone. I suppose you put on a decent show, but anyone with eyes can tell you don’t let anyone in. There’s something festering beneath the surface.”
The shock he read there was quickly shoved aside and replaced with genuine disdain. Those gorgeous green eyes narrowed into slits and her lips pressed together. She’d forgotten to hide behind her happy-go-lucky mask. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. You’re the one who said you could relate to me. I’m not the one hiding anything. I may be quiet, but at least I won’t deny it when someone asks me about my past.” Daniel had expected her to return the happy mask to her face, laugh at him, and leave. That was the Aria he’d gotten to know.
This time she surprised him.
Aria moved closer to him so that their bodies almost touched. In coming so close, she had to lift her chin to meet his gaze. Her annoyed whisper raked along his skin with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for. “You want to know what I’m hiding? Fine, I’ll tell you. Right now, Mateo and Sophia are in Georgia to make sure my father doesn’t make parole.”
He lifted his brows but didn’t dare ask any questions. From the looks of it, she might have even wanted to get this off her chest.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and a solitary tear slid down her cheek. “He was abusive. Emotionally. Mentally. And yes, physically. So, the next time you want to judge me on the way I present myself to the world, maybe ignore that temptation.” She turned to leave, but he was faster.
His hand reached out and grasped her wrist. When she gasped, he immediately released her, realizing his mistake. Her eyes fluttered several times, and she looked at him with that surprise again. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.
Fury rose like bile in the back of his throat. He hadn’t experienced the heat of it since he’d been in middle school—before he’d gone through his growth spurt.
The younger version of himself had been scrawny and a target for those bigger than he was. Countless times he’d been shoved into mud puddles, pushed into lockers or thrown into garbage cans. Daniel shut his eyes, but it did nothing to relieve himself of those bad memories.
“Daniel?”
His eyes opened at her quiet voice.
Gone was the fury, the shock, the pain she’d allowed him to see.
Aria hadn’t run from him or even taken another step away so she could put distance between them. In fact, it appeared as though she’d inched closer to him. Her hand was lifted as if she’d felt the desire to touch him again, only this time she didn’t. It hovered in the air and then dropped to her side. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” he muttered again, shaking his head.
“It’s fine,” she offered.
Daniel shook his head. It wasn’t. He knew better. People who dealt with abuse could be triggered by anything—losing the progress they’d made in their healing. “I shouldn’t have touched you without asking.”
She was quiet for too long, causing him to find her gaze. When he did, she shrugged. “I wasn’t hurt as much as my mother.”
“Still doesn’t make it okay.” He looked down at her wrist where he’d grabbed her. Embarrassment and guilt roared like a storm inside him, made worse when she brought her wrist to her other hand and rubbed it. Daniel worked his jaw. “It won’t happen again.”
Aria nodded, her eyes dropping to her feet.
He promised himself he would never touch her again. Of course she hid her past. He couldn’t see a woman like Aria being happy about being called a victim. She didn’t look like a victim. It had to take a great deal of strength to live each day like the new opportunity it was.
Before he reached out to take her hand, he shoved his own in his back pockets. He rocked back on his heels. “Aria?”
When she didn’t look up right away, that guilt wrapped around his throat once more.
“Aria, I’m sorry you went through that.”
She did meet his gaze then. Moisture filled her eyes, but she blinked it away and those walls he was familiar with were shoved back into place. She offered him a smile and shrugged. “I survived.”
“Yes, you did.” He blew out a sharp breath. “And that means you’re probably much stronger for it.”
His words hit her in a way that caused her to stare at him with a strange expression he couldn’t decipher. There was surprise in those green depths, but there was also a bit of relief along with something else.
Aria’s expression smoothed out and she flashed him a smile, ending the conversation. “Let’s get these dishes washed so I can head back home.”
She might not have felt it, but he did. There was a new kind of connection between them—a new kind of kinship. They’d both been hurt by people who thought that being bigger gave them the right to cause pain. Those people thought they could break people like Aria.
They were wrong.