Chapter 31 Aiden
Chapter 31 AIDEN
“ G ood to see you in a better mood,” Becky said as she piled pancakes and bacon on her breakfast plate, right beside a hefty blob of scrambled eggs. How she could eat so much, being so tiny, was beyond him. And she always seemed to enjoy those small luxuries—nice hotels, lavish breakfast buffets, business class seats—she wouldn’t otherwise have. She was right, though—he was in a better mood. “I knew a night out with a woman would be good for you.”
Aiden made a noncommittal sound. His night out was indeed good for him. But not the part he spent with Lydia. After leaving her, he’d gotten the beating of his life on the pool table in a smoky bar by a cackling Fatima. They had stayed late despite Aiden’s early-to-bed tendencies. He’d loved being there. He’d been anonymous, just a man losing game after game to a middle-aged woman. He couldn’t help but think of his time with Nora, how he wasn’t a movie star when he was with her. He was just himself.
“Where’s the cognac bomber I gave you? You look extra handsome in it.”
And, just like that, what little good mood he’d retained from the night before evaporated. He’d forgotten about Nora putting their wet clothes to dry. He didn’t really care about the jacket itself— may Becky never find out —but he did miss his t-shirt, for it reminded him of his niece. They had gone to the circus together and, on the way back, she’d seen a light-gray shirt in a storefront and suggested, in her cute little girl’s voice, that “Uncle Aiden will look pwetty in it.” So of course he bought it, to her utmost delight.
Becky expected a response, so he feigned nonchalance. “You think so? Then I’ll wear it just for you one of these days.”
She kicked his shin under the table. “Save your smooth talk for the set. You better focus today. You’re sure taking your sweet time to get the scenes right.”
After Becky returned to her room to get ready for the day, Aiden slipped out to his balcony to get some fresh air. Then his phone rang. “Maiden!” Gabe and Mel, his wife, said in unison, their smiling faces occupying the whole screen.
Seeing Gabe’s face brought Aiden back to his first day of school in Nashville. He was angry at his parents for making their family leave England, and at his classmates for mocking his accent, but mostly he was angry at himself for being a dork who would never fit in anywhere. When a short, dark-haired kid said, “What’s up, Maiden?” Aiden had wanted to punch him. Literally. He remembered his hands balling into fists, his feet preparing to balance for a good jab, until the kid offered a big smile and said, “You play soccer? We need a defender.”
Defender was not his specialty, but he would take whatever position was available to kick a ball—which would further prevent him from kicking someone’s face. When the kid—Gabe—scored his first goal, Aiden knew he needed to be friends with him. And when he himself scored one, too, he felt Gabe’s eyes on him, and he knew Gabe wanted to be friends as well.
They’d been friends ever since.
“Aiden, what is this? Are we going to be seeing more of you around here?” Mel said, brandishing a magazine. She flipped to the lovely picture of him and Nora, holding hands while she kissed his cheek. Aiden’s stomach lurched.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Then something occurred to him. Aiden could at least get his clothes back. “But I have a favor to ask. Could you arrange to pick my clothes up?”
Mel laughed. “Come again?”
“I forgot some clothes there.”
Gabe wrinkled his nose. “Dude, gross! Please don’t tell me it was in my parents’ bedroom. Or worse, mine.”
“Hey, it’s not what you’re thinking.” Fortunately , he added to himself.
“Then why are your clothes there?” Gabe asked, while Mel hovered behind him with a knowing grin on her face.
“Remember? The storm? She brought me inside when I cut my hand and offered to let me change into dry clothes. Can you retrieve my stuff or not?”
“Why don’t you just call her, smart-ass?”
“She didn’t give me her number.” And whatever self-preservation instincts Aiden had left wouldn’t let him call, anyway.
Mel’s face took over the screen. “A woman resisted Aiden Elliott’s charm? Wow, that’s a first.”
Aiden gave her a half-hearted smile. Nora had indeed resisted his charm, only for a different reason.
“Dude, I’m in a complicated position,” Gabe said, scratching his short dark hair. “She’s a good tenant. Why’d you have to go there and wet your pants, uh?”
Mel guffawed.
“Gabe, you haven’t improved your comedy stylings since you were nine.”
“And you haven’t improved your boringness since then, either.”
“Thanks, mate.”
Gabe’s expression turned serious. “So, that picture . . .”
“It was a mistake.”
Gabe gave Mel a knowing look. “Babe, can you give us a second?”
She kissed his temple, laughing. “As if I would ever stand in the way of your bromance. But I want to hear all about it later. And if you come to this neck of the woods again and don’t visit us, you’re in big trouble, Elliott.” Then she left.
“Maiden, Maiden. I can tell you’re heartbroken, bro. At least this time it isn’t my sister.”
Shite. “You knew?”
“Dude, everyone knew. Even Paola. You can be pretty obvious. I have no idea how you came to be such a talented actor.”
“Gabe, I... do you have some time to talk?”
It would do him good to share the whole situation with someone. If one good thing resulted from that night, it was that he learned how healing it could be to unburden his mind to a friend.
The long talk with Gabe helped a great deal. Gabe didn’t mock his predicament and, even better, he didn’t pass judgment. “Just give it time, Maiden, you’ll see everything will work out for the best.” Aiden wanted his friend’s words to be true.
But as his anger ebbed, he realized that it cleared the space for another ugly emotion to torment him. Guilt. Regardless of how much Aiden insisted that he hadn’t lied to Nora, the torn magazine page in his hoodie pocket proved otherwise. He should have left the page where it belonged, inside a magazine she probably would never open again. Even if she did find the cursed page, the candid photo wasn’t clear enough to identify him at first glance. He hadn’t outright lied, but he had intentionally taken away the possibility of her finding out by herself who he was.
He didn’t have to say, “Hey, I’m a bloody celebrity,” but he should have at least hinted at it. Even when she directly asked about his profession, he used subterfuges to avoid telling the whole truth.
If he had told her, though, would she have treated him the same? Would she have slapped his arm, made fun of his accent, asked for a foot massage, looked right into his eyes, all the things she did that made that night so fantastic? He’d never know.
Aiden sorely regretted hiding that part of himself. Nora didn’t deserve his deceit. Something told him she wouldn’t have thrown him out had he been honest from the start. That night with her had been perfect, and he was glad he had at least the memory of it to keep his heart warm. Even if his own folly had cost him so much.