Chapter 3 Aiden
Chapter 3 AIDEN
T he house brought back so many memories from his years in Nashville, when he was in middle school. Never would he have imagined being there again—especially without Gabe, who had long since moved to Memphis. It was the same house, and yet it was so different. It seemed much smaller than he remembered.
He had loved this house when he was a kid. It was completely different from his own home growing up. The layout was similar; everything else, however... a whole new universe. Aiden’s mother was a neat freak. Heaven forbid there was a speck of dust on the mantel or a knick-knack out of place. The Márquez house was cozier, more lived-in, despite being a tad messy, or maybe because of that. Aiden loved how homey and welcoming it felt, both then and now.
“Aiden, right?” His host’s voice brought him back from his walk down memory lane.
How long had it been since someone had asked his name? “Yes. You?”
In the dusk outside—and under the circumstances of their encounter—he hadn’t given her eyes much attention. Under proper light, though, he noticed their unusual hue. Were they green? Brown? Amber? The color was mysterious. Alluring.
“Hey, are you all right?” she asked, concern in her voice.
Aiden shook his head, only then realizing he had been staring at her. Had she told him her name yet? Bollocks. He needed to pay attention. “I’m all right, yes. Thank you very much. Delighted to make your acquaintance.”
His host struggled not to laugh. “Are you always so formal?”
“Only when I’m meeting someone for the first time.”
Falling on the sidewalk was fully in character, but talking with her was a challenge to his poor social skills.
Strangely enough, he felt calm. Normally, after recovering from an episode of seeing his own blood, he’d fall into a state of relaxation—it had something to do with noradrenaline, his doctor had explained. It could be what helped him relax around her. She seemed to be a good person, one who had treated him as Aiden, the man, and not Aiden Elliott, the actor. Or at least that’s how his still-fuzzy mind interpreted the scene.
Hadn’t she recognized him? If not, Aiden was somewhat relieved—and intrigued. Granted, not everyone knew of every single celebrity out there, and while his career had taken off, he wasn’t as big of a star as the A-listers. Still, it’d been a long time since he encountered someone who didn’t know who he was. A long, long time. And this could mean she wouldn’t know or mention anything about Consequat .
He then remembered what she’d said earlier. “Speaking of introductions, do I get to meet your jujitsu black belt father? I’d like to thank him for his hospitality.” Aiden kept as straight a face as he could manage.
She threw her head back and stared at the ceiling for a second. “I lied, okay? I thought you were a creep and were, like... hitting on me.”
She thought he’d been flirting with her? The mere idea made blood rush to his cheeks.
Aiden scratched the back of his head. “I’m honestly sorry for that. I most definitely was not hitting on you. Not at all.” At the tilt of her head, Aiden backtracked. “N-n-not that you don’t deserve it. You do, of course... Though I’d never flirt with anyone by asking for directions... possibly. But you deserve all the hitting in the world. Hitting on , I mean. Oh, God.”
So much for being at ease. He sounded like a babbling teenager, struggling to form coherent phrases in front of a beautiful woman.
She shook her head, her lips betraying amusement as she gathered up the first-aid supplies on the table.
Glancing down at the clean gauze secured over the cut—no more blood in sight—Aiden let out a deep sigh of relief. At that she giggled. He found the way her lips unfurled beyond cute, and the sound was enticing, almost sexy in its spontaneity. His breath caught in his chest.
“So... you weren’t flirting with me, though I am flirt-worthy,” she said.
Aiden nodded effusively. “Oh yes, absolutely.”
Damn it. His bloody mouth kept responding before he could think. Still, he didn’t regret his answer—it was true. Had they met in another situation, Aiden would have done his best to find the courage to flirt with her. It would surely be refreshing to be involved with someone—for lack of a better word—normal.
Aiden couldn’t remember the last time he’d held eye contact with a stranger for such a long period. But soon she dropped the surgical tape on the floor, breaking the moment. She crouched to pick it up.
Aiden stood and extended his hand, which she took without hesitation. Her skin had a pleasant softness and felt a little cool—he found himself wishing he could hold her hand long enough to warm it up. “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness.”
She seemed tense as he slowly let go.
“I can’t count how many times I slipped on that same spot when I was a kid. And somehow it seemed to only happen to me.” He gave a tentative flex to his hand, wincing at the dull pain. At least it was his left hand. And with luck, it wouldn’t scar.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Maybe this house holds a grudge against you.”
Aiden pondered this. “Maybe. Who knows? I had my fair share of mischief here. But Gabe is just as guilty, and nothing ever happened to him.”
“Me neither,” she said with a cock of her brow.
“So you’ve also had your share of mischief in this house? Interesting.”
A smile bloomed on her lips, and Aiden couldn’t help but mirror it. Maybe she felt as comfortable around him as he did around her. Still, he wouldn’t prolong his stay more than necessary. He had to get to the airport hotel Becky had booked for that night; he couldn’t miss his morning flight to LA.
“I thank you dearly for your kindness and hospitality, but I’ve overstayed my welcome here. I think I see a taxi on the street,” he said, giving the first cheap excuse he could come up with. “So I’ll be on my way. Stay safe.” He got up to get his duffel bag and soaked jacket.
She beat him to the door, though. Was she that eager to get rid of him? “Here, let me open it for you. So you’ll come back.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Ah... it’s a superstition we Brazilians have. The host should always open the door, to make sure the guest will return.” With that, she opened the door to the raging storm. “Gosh, this weather!”
“What’s the first thing an actor learns? ‘Come snow and rain, come sun and storm, the show must go on!’ Or something like that.”
She laughed. “Are you an actor? Is that what they teach?”
Aiden really needed to work on thinking before speaking. “It’s a—” his voice caught. He cleared his throat. “It’s a quote from Singing in the Rain .” At her confused face, he continued. “The movie Singing in the Rain ?”
Nora shrugged. “Never seen it. The only classics worth watching are in the Star Wars saga.”
Star Wars? Seriously?
But this time he kept his mouth shut—though he could well have launched into a whole speech in response to such an atrocious statement. “Right. Thank you, for everything...” Aiden trailed off, realizing he still didn’t know her name. In the back of his mind, he had a hazy memory of Gabe calling her “hen ink” or something. But he wasn’t about to embarrass himself further, so he started out the door, then stopped. “Hey, will you let me know if you need anything? You know, because of the storm.”
If she needed anything? Bloody hell, Aiden, could you find a worse way to ask for her number? He needed a lesson or two on how to flirt with a stranger, after all.
“Sure, I’ll send you a smoke signal.”
He knew a dismissal when he heard one.
As he was about to apologize, she handed him her phone. “Just put your number in there.”
Surprised and pleased, he pondered whether to use his full name, but ended up saving his contact under “Aiden on the storm.” Maybe she would get the reference to The Doors song. Aiden gave her back the phone and seized the moment to give her a peck on the cheek. In a bold impulse, he allowed his lips to remain in contact with her soft skin for a fraction of a second longer than he normally would. “Thank you,” he repeated and stared for one last time into her beautiful eyes before stepping outside. “Farewell, valiant lady.”
Would he ever see this woman again?
“Hey, I don’t see a cab around,” she yelled against the rain. “We should call for one to pick you up.”
Before he even made it down one stair he was soaked. Then the storm sirens started blaring into the darkness, warning residents to take cover, and muffling her last few words. Oh shite . Aiden turned his head back towards the door. She still stood there, her face mirroring his own astonishment.
She grinned. “See? The Brazilian superstition works. You came back!” Her face lit up and he stood like a fool in the rain, watching her watch him from her doorstep. She made a full-body flourish towards the door. “Get back inside, mister.”