Chapter 17 Aiden
Chapter 17 AIDEN
F or someone who’d had some starring roles in rom-coms, Aiden was having his fair share of trouble reading Nora. He wasn’t that daft—he felt an unmistakable attraction between them. But things with Nora seemed touch and go, maybe due to her trust issues. She would startle him with her blunt honesty—calling him “hot” to his face, which surprised him, more from its spontaneity than its boldness—only to shy away from his flirty comments after reveling in them moments before. If friendship was all she was willing to offer, he would settle for that. It was getting late, and he would soon be gone forever. But he couldn’t fathom why she kept teasing him.
At least she hadn’t flat-out rejected him. Yet.
Nora got up suddenly, went to the emergency box, and retrieved the small radio. Fumbling with the dial, she soon found an oldies station. “Music makes everything better and we’ll hear any storm updates and tornado news,” she said.
Aiden nodded. Music was more than fine with him. “Let’s move on. If a news report comes on, we’ll pause the questions.”
Nora agreed. Maybe some music would help disguise the downpour.
Aiden read question twenty-four. “‘How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?’ What a Freudian question.”
“I suppose our relationship is good,” Nora said. “I mean, it’s great and awful at the same time. She’s a piece of work, and she’s also the one I love the most. You know that friend you fight with all the time, but you can’t stay away from? That’s my mom.”
“Perhaps because you’re too alike?”
“The two of us? Not at all. Only in the smile and the dark hair,” Nora said, and he remembered the pictures on her mantelpiece. “Oh, and my first family name.”
“First? Did you change it?” Aiden had assumed that she hadn’t been married. But had she?
“No; in Brazil, kids traditionally carry family names from both sides—the first one from the mother, the last one from the father. My dad wasn’t pleased. He wanted to follow the German tradition of only one family name, but Mom was adamant. I come from a long line of opinionated women,” Nora laughed. “The Oliveiras.”
“Oh, that’s a family name? I thought it was your middle name.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
Aiden blanched. Shite . He’d almost let it slip he had snooped in her mail to find out her name. Hopefully, in the hazy candlelight she wouldn’t notice him blushing.
“It is my middle name,” she continued. “But it’s not a given name, if that’s what you mean. You know, the funniest thing about Oliveira is that it means olive tree. And I hate, hate olives.”
“What? You heathen! How can you not fancy olives?”
Nora made a gurgling sound, which echoed the rumble outside. “Anything an olive touches tastes like olives and nothing else. It’s overpowering. I just can’t.”
“How can someone so nice have such hatred in her heart?”
“I have nothing but love in my heart, I promise. Just not for olives.” She winked, and Aiden—for his own sake—decided not to read too much into it. “What about you and your mother?”
“We both fancy olives, thank you very much.”
Nora slapped his arm on reflex. “Okay, comedian, now tell me about your relationship with her.”
“The Force is strong with this one,” he said, rubbing the spot she slapped. Fortunately, the Star Wars quote earned him a full smile. “About her... We have a great relationship, now that I’m an adult. My poor mum had three kids within a few years. She did her best. Now I see it. As a child, though, I always thought she was too strict. After the accident, I moved back home to be with her. Celina had already married, and Sean moved out until things cooled off with my father. It was then that she started to treat me like a grown man. Of course, if I don’t pick my phone up at her first ring, she’ll fret, thinking I’m dying, dead, or kidnapped. It’s how she shows she cares. She’s the same with my siblings. Thank goodness, I’m not the baby. That honor falls on Sean, and oh does he suffer it, even after all these years. He takes it with way more grace than I ever would, though.”
Nora grinned. “My mom always gave me more freedom than I probably deserved,” she said. “No curfew, parties were no big deal—I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I told her about it. But for some time that made me doubt her love—I saw all my friends’ moms tracking them all the time, wanting to know what they were doing, when they’d be back home and... well, maybe mine didn’t care about me so much? Over time, I learned she has her own ways of showing her love. To her, love is freedom. She didn’t want me to feel that she was forcing me to be with her. I understand it now, but I don’t think that’s how I’ll raise my kids, if I ever have any. I’ll find my own way to wreck them.”
“Wait a minute. I believe you said your mother was as warm as a Rio de Janeiro summer?”
Nora nodded. “She is, when she feels like it. When she doesn’t, she pretty much forgets about me.”
An absent father and a peculiar mother. Yet Nora seemed to have overcome these childhood challenges, growing into this sweet, assertive, self-sufficient woman.
Nora’s phone started ringing. Who could be calling at this hour? She had a strange expression on her face. “Sorry, Aiden, I have to take this.”
Aiden grabbed his own phone and stood up, going to the other side of the basement, trying to give her some semblance of privacy. Although, besides the bemused “Papa?”, there was no way he would have understood anything she was saying, anyway.
The way Nora spoke German with her father fascinated him. Her voice changed somewhat, and so did her posture—a lower pitch, a raised chin, as if defying the man on the other side of the call. He doubted she was aware of it. It was hard to discern if they were fighting, having a heated conversation, or just talking about inconsequential things.
After a few minutes—by then Aiden had given up on pretending he wasn’t paying attention to her—Nora hung up, a haunted look in her eyes.
In no time, he was by her side. She stood facing the wall, yet not really looking at it, if her vacant stare was any hint. He didn’t want to intrude, but she’d been unresponsive for quite a few moments. “What—”
“It was my father.”
“Yes, I figured as much. Are you quite all right?”
“It’s been three years since we last spoke.” She looked up at Aiden and chortled. “It’s funny that it took a fucking tornado for him to remember I exist.”
Nora picked on her fingernails. For as much as her voice sounded confident, Aiden could feel the discomfort the call had caused her. Before he realized what he was doing, he gently pulled Nora to the sofa and put his arms around her. She nestled her head on his chest, breathing deeply. His hand stroked her back, and she relaxed in his embrace. To have her so close, snuggled against him, made him selfishly content. But she seemed to take comfort from him, too, so perhaps he was doing something right, for a change.
Nora’s floral, heady scent once again surrounded him, clouded his mind, and warmed his stomach. He wanted this woman; oh God, he wanted her—and it felt so good to admit it to himself—but he would never, never take advantage of her in a moment of vulnerability. Before he could stop himself, though, his hand cupped the back of her head, and his lips found the line of her hair in a feathery touch. Aiden wished the moment would last forever.
Something crashed against the house, and that broke the spell. He gave her a tender squeeze then let her go, moving back to his spot. Words were unnecessary—he saw the affection and the gratitude in her face. They stared for a moment, and a single tear made its path down her cheek. Nora rushed to wipe it, then hid her face behind her hands.
“Damn, sorry for the scene. I don’t know what came over me,” Nora said in a small, muffled voice.
“Don’t worry. Now I know you’re human like the rest of us. I was beginning to wonder.”
Nora let out a light chuckle and peeked through her splayed fingers. “Don’t be so sure about that.”
“You could have me fooled.” He gave her knee a friendly pat. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Nora uncovered her face and looked at Aiden’s hand on her knee. He removed it in case she was uncomfortable with his touching. Then her eyes found his. “Nah. It was nothing, to be honest. He just asked me if I was okay and told me to be safe. I grew up without my father’s affection, it’s not like I expected it now.”
“Every human being wants to feel cherished, loved,” Aiden said. “And, as we have just established that you are indeed human...”
“It’s sweet of you to try to lift my spirit.”
“That’s my magic talent. I can make everything better.” This was a blatant lie and, before she even tried to slap his arm, he corrected himself. “I can try, at least.”
Nora’s plump lips unfurled in a luminous smile. God, those lips . Should he take a chance? Cross the line to a point of no return? But, before Aiden could take the initiative, she turned her face away from him and took the magazine again.
“Look at us, two-thirds into this questionnaire! I didn’t even notice the time passing.”
“Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana,” Aiden said, with as straight a face as he could manage. He was an actor, for crying out loud, but perhaps not a very good one, because he couldn’t help laughing at the bewildered look on her face. “I’ll leave you to figure it out by yourself. So, what does question twenty-five bring?”
Nora cocked her head. “We should make three true ‘we’ statements each. For instance, ‘We are both in this room feeling...’ Okay, this is kinda random.”
“Better than the gloomy questions. I’ll start. We survived the tornado.”
“Aiden! Don’t jinx it! It’s not over yet.”
She didn’t laugh. Aiden wasn’t sure whether she was joking. Perhaps it was one of those Brazilian superstitions.
“Should we take turns? The question didn’t specify.”
Nora shrugged. “We took turns already; let’s do it differently this time. You keep talking.”
“We are both single, but hopefully not for long...?” he asked tentatively.
“What?” Her eyes shone with something he interpreted as alarm.
Touch and go. “I mean, I’m single, but I don’t want to be single forever. Forgive me for making assumptions on your behalf, though. It’s perfectly fine to want to remain single.” Too bad she didn’t—or wouldn’t—get the real meaning behind his statement.
“Thank you for that.” Nora’s face relaxed. “Yes, I could be a super-independent woman who wants nothing to do with men.”
“Nora, you are a super-independent woman. As for wanting nothing to do with men...” Could this stem from the scars brought on by her past relationships? That would explain her pattern of teasing and retreating.
Nora stared at the candles flickering; her lips pursed. “Yeah, that’s the problem.”
“What is?”
She then looked straight into his soul. “That I do want something to do with men.”
Despite the tension he felt, Aiden couldn’t hold back a chortle. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“It is, sometimes! And sometimes it’s not. I mean, when you say that ‘we are single, but hopefully not for long...’ of course I want a relationship. Who doesn’t? And that’s the problem. The ‘hopefully.’ We are always hoping. Love is such a ruthless game, some people try it and fail many times, and some people get it right the first time. It’s a matter of meeting the right person—being in the right place at the right time—and then doing the right thing. And the right thing is not the same for everyone. I don’t think a couple has to be perfect for each other, but they have to be willing to do their best to stay together. So, in summary, love is complicated. And that’s why it’s a problem. Sorry, what was the question again?”
Love wasn’t complicated. Love was simple, and wholesome, and perfect. It was people who were complicated. But Aiden didn’t want to dwell on that. “We’re saying ‘we’ statements.”
“Oh, yes. I think you only said two.”
“Indeed.” He scoured his brain for something silly to lighten the mood. “We’re both terrible singers.”
The mandatory slap stung his arm. “You’re using that against me?”
“Of course not. Don’t you remember? You are the most beautiful dying pig, my dear. And I believe it’s your turn now.”
She averted her eyes, probably thinking about her answers. “We,” she looked at the wine bottle, “are both getting tipsy.”
“Is that a polite way to say you’re trying to get me drunk?”
Her long eyelashes cast shadows as she turned her face to him, revealing her twinkling irises. “Afraid of the big bad she-wolf, Little Red Riding Hood?”
“Why, are you going to eat me?”
Nora flashed him a sideways glance. “Why? You taste any good?”
For once he kept his mouth shut. He wouldn’t ruin that perfect moment. Aiden answered with a crooked smile and a suggestive brow raise instead.
Even in the dim candlelight, he saw her cheeks flame. Nora coughed, as if to dispel the pretty blush. “We... met today, but it strangely feels like we’ve known each other for a long, long time.”
He nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes. I know things about you I don’t know about many friends. And I’ve shared things with you I never have with anyone else.” And he didn’t mean only the answers to the questions. Maybe it was because she was a stranger, or it could be because she didn’t know who he was, or maybe it was destiny. Would he have shared so much about himself if he thought he’d see her again?
Thunder crashed dangerously close to the house, leading him to a grim realization. Their time was running out. She had her life in Nashville, and God knew he had his all over the world, here and there, as the next film demanded. And life wasn’t a rom-com, where he would at the last minute abandon his flight to Los Angeles tomorrow and run back to her arms. He had his contract to honor, he must attend the premiere, the next round of filming couldn’t start without him, and he couldn’t help but think that, after the storm ended and the novelty of the situation had faded, it was possible Nora wouldn’t want him around anymore. Sooner or later, she would discover his public identity—he didn’t want to say “true identity,” because he’d shown her his true self—and who knew how she would take it when she found out he was a celebrity.
Nora’s voice interrupted his reverie. “We are having fun answering these questions, and neither of us really expected it.”
“See? You said yourself it was a rollercoaster, and here you are, having fun. How brave you are.”
“Hey!” Nora threw the magazine at him, and because he had been paying more attention to her lips than anything else, the magazine hit him square in the face. She gave him a bright smile.
Aiden opened to the wrinkled quiz page. “Twenty-six says to complete this sentence: ‘I wish I had someone with whom I could share...’”
“A bank account.” She answered right away with a straight face. He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.
“Really, Nora, all that talk about being an independent woman—”
“Wait! Shh!” She flailed her arms, trying to silence him.
He looked at her in confusion. A song started playing on the radio, a jazzy tune he’d never heard. She turned the volume up and rose from the sofa. “I love this song!” Nora closed her eyes and twirled across the basement, swaying with the notes, a sweet smile on her lips. She may not be able to sing, but she could certainly dance. She moved with poise, her elegant moves hypnotizing him.
Then he knew his answer to the question.
Aiden stood up, offering his hand to her. “Will you give me the honor, fair lady?”
Uncertainty flashed in her eyes but was soon replaced by pure delight.
“Baby, look/ It’s another dawn, my love/ And the day is ours, you know/ It’s just me and you,” the male voice sang.
Aiden offered Nora his hand and took her for a spin. It’s just me and you . He intended to keep a respectful distance—he really did—but between the warmth of her hand and her breath against his neck, the scent of her skin and the softness of her cheek on his, he found his undoing. Propriety be damned. He placed his hand on her lower back, pulling her flush against his body.
Having Nora in his arms was like walking on clouds, bringing him a happiness he didn’t know he sought until he found it. The lyrics of the song faintly reached his ears, but all he registered was her .
“Baby, look/ The sun shines outside, for us/ But we were up all night, so/ Stay, it’s still too soon.”
“It’s kinda talking about you, huh? Here you are, pulling an all-nighter like a grownup.” Nora’s voice, so close to his ear, came out in a velvety whisper, and it took him a few seconds to realize she was talking about the lyrics.
He closed his eyes and, in an unrushed, deliberate movement—giving her plenty of time to escape if she so wished—turned his face and put his lips right by the shell of her ear. “I guess I’ve never had a good enough reason to.” Then he nuzzled her temple, pressing his mouth against her hair. Her breath hitched, and he was almost sure she was smiling.
“Baby, look/ Let’s stay in bed all day, again/ Then we can do or say, darling/ Whatever we want to.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, Aiden slid his nose across her right cheek, his eyes now opening to gaze into the depths of hers, and he decided to take the plunge. Then we can do whatever we want to . He leaned in, her breath mingling with his own. He parted his lips; she tilted her head—
Without warning, the lights came back on at that very second, making Nora jump, shattering the moment. One more stupid interruption and this night would be the perfect script for a movie. Aiden felt blood rushing to his cheeks. He tried to salvage what was left of his dignity, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on its back.
Play it again, Sam , Aiden wanted to say, but Nora wouldn’t get the Casablanca reference and would scold him for yet another attempt at an old film quote even though those words were never really said in the movie. Instead, he said, “Thank you for this most delightful dance, Nora, and for fulfilling my wish.”
“. . . what?” she asked, her voice somewhat shaken.
“That was the question, wasn’t it? ‘I wish I had someone to share so-and-so’ or something along those lines.”
“Oh, uh, yes. Right.” She sat back on the sofa, and he followed, spreading the blanket over their legs. As if they needed any more warmth.
“And you want someone to share a bank account with. How interesting.”
That brought her from her daze. “No, that was a joke! I guess what I want to share would be a life, right? I’m comfortable being by myself, but I don’t particularly like the idea of growing old alone. I’m picky and I have my quirks, and I may not be the easiest person to be with, although I try to believe that one day I’ll find someone who will somehow accept me or adapt to my ways—either by matching them or tolerating them. I hope it’s by matching. Like, I always leave my bed unmade, and you don’t mind making it. I mean, the person I find to be with.”
For all Aiden’s worries about making things awkward, there she went again, with her so-carelessly-thrown flirty words. If Nora thought she could raise the stakes, he would call her bet. “I can be in charge of the bed-making as long as you wash the dishes.” Aiden looked down for dramatic effect, then looked straight at her. “And provided that the bed is duly unmade each night.”