27
Charlotte
“Can I walk you home?” Aidan asks me at the end of the evening after I let out a long, droning yawn.
We’re sitting on the couch in his living room, the sides of our bodies flush with each other while we sip the last few drops of mint tea Aidan made for me after dinner.
My limbs feel heavy from the ramen and the warmth of his presence.
His arm rests on the back of the cushion behind my head.
“Not to kick you out or anything. But that is the fifth time you’ve yawned. ”
“Sorry,” I fight off another one forming in my throat.
“Thelma had zoomies at two a.m., and I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and started working on some spreadsheets.
” I run a hand over Lloyd, who is curled up beside me and softly snoring.
“Is this part of your evil plan? Give me tea and then walk me home in hopes that I will give you free books as a thank you?”
He lifts one shoulder. “You’ve discovered one part of my evil plan. The tea is definitely part of the plan of increasing my friendship points with you.”
“Friendship points?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “What are friendship points?”
He flashes a little half-smile, and his gaze falls to his feet. “Remember that game I told you about?”
“Stardew Valley? The game where you farm?” I’m tempted to tell him that I went down a rabbit hole a couple of nights ago regarding all the Easter Eggs in the game.
“Yeah, there’s a game mechanic, where if you give an NPC—”
“What does NPC mean? I know it refers to characters you can’t control, but like what does it stand for?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t say I should just go look it up on the internet.
“Non-Playable Character,” he answers without a hint of sarcasm or disdain.
“You’re correct. You interact with NPCs, but you can’t control them.
But anyways, so there’s a game mechanic where if you give an NPC a loved item, like a favorite food or a beverage, you increase their friendship points, which then add up to a heart.
” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose in a gesture that is particularly nerdy, given the subject matter, and yet incredibly attractive at the same time.
“When you get to a certain number of hearts, you get certain cut scenes with those NPCs.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Certain cut scenes?” I parrot. “Like what?”
“It depends on the NPC, and the amount of hearts you have. One of them, Sam, starts a band, and you see his show. Another one, Leah, puts on an art show with your help. When you get to a certain amount of hearts with the bachelor or bachelorette characters, you can give them a bouquet and date them.” He presses his lips together with a close-lipped smile and a blush darkens his features.
“Eventually, you can propose marriage with a mermaid pendant.”
I lean toward him, feeling his warmth through the fabric of my dress. “Really? Are any of those cut scenes naughty?”
He moves his head back and forth. “Not really. Some of them have kissing. Some imply some sexual innuendos, but nothing more explicit.”
“So let me get this straight, you’re giving me tea so you can increase your friendship points, which increases the amount of hearts you have with me?” I blink and shift in my seat. “Which means, you’ve been paying attention to what I like?”
He grimaces and shrinks from me. “Y-y-yes. I have.” He studies me for a few seconds before continuing.
“You like London Fogs and Earl Grey tea the most, but you don’t drink them after four because of the caffeine, and then you switch over to an herbal tea, usually mint or cinnamon tea.
” He licks his lips. “You have a sweet tooth, which explains why you like pineapple on pizza. Your hair is usually up in some sort of braid or ponytail, so I assume that it’s probably a lot to deal with.
” He studies my face. “I mean, those are just my observations so far.”
He’s been paying attention to me.
Of all my relationships, both fleeting and lasting, none of them paid attention to my likes and dislikes as much as Aidan.
None of them knew the tea I liked, let alone that I drink tea on a schedule.
Come to think of it, I’ve had multiple guys bring me pumpkin spice lattes, despite me telling them that, not only do I not like coffee, but I also hate pumpkin.
“Are you mad?” Aidan asks, breaking my thoughts. “Does it feel too stalkerish? Because I can stop if you want—”
“I’m not mad,” I reply quickly, my eyes misting, and I rest a hand on his knee. “I don’t mind at all. It’s just that no one I’ve dated has ever really noticed these things before. I’m not used to it.” My thumb grazes over the hard ridges of his knee and leg.
“I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Don’t stop.” I scooch myself closer to him, wanting more contact with his hard and lean body. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Then I will continue to make a mental note of things.” He taps his temple.
“I was really worried that you would find me creepy, and then I spiraled and second guessed myself. If you haven’t noticed already, I second guess myself and the anxiety gets to me.
” He smiles sheepishly, and my stomach does the flippy thing because he’s so cute. Why is dating so nauseating?
“Really? Because you seem really confident to me.”
He peers at me with a raised eyebrow. “You’re joking right?”
I lift a shoulder. “I mean, I think you’re pretty confident.”
“Your faith might be misguided.” Aidan’s hand curls around my shoulder, and I lean farther into the crook of his elbow. The warmth of his body radiates through my skin. Or is that just the heat of my own desire?
My gaze travels to his lips, and I pray that he notices the gesture.
Through heavy-lidded eyes, we move closer, and his hot breath brushes against my skin.
We sit there for a few seconds, inhaling each other’s air.
I close my eyes and rest a hand on his chest, gripping his shirt and pulling him closer.
Our lips caress, and I swear sparks fly along the corner of my mouth.
Muffled curses and jangling keys ring outside the front door, and we leap to opposite ends of the couch like teenagers.
The door swings open and Xander walks in, with Gromit on his heels. “Hey guys.” He waves nonchalantly at us and flops down in an armchair facing the couch. “Georgie says hi.”
“Cockblock,” Aidan mutters under his breath and runs a hand over his stubble, while scowling at his roommate.
I let out a low chuckle and gesture to the door. “I should get going. I’ve, uh, got an early morning.” Rising from my seat, I grab my purse from the nearby end table. “Thank you, again, for ramen and tea. It was very nice.”
He nods, putting his hands on his knees before standing up. “I’ll, uh, walk you home. Thank you for the cookies.” He strokes his mustache. “Or thank you to Nicole for giving them to you.”
Xander perks up. “Nicole gave you cookies. Where?”
Aidan points to the kitchen before opening the front door for me, and I follow a few steps behind him. As he closes the door, I call out over my shoulder, “Bye cockblock!”
Xander scrambles with a cookie in his hand, his eyes wide and his cheeks reddened. “Wait, what? I’m sorry! I’ll—”
I slam the door and run off, laughing and tossing my head back.
My hair streams behind me. Arms reach around my waist when I reach the street, and I let out a squeal as Aidan pulls me to his chest. He spins me around, and I come face-to-face with him.
His dark hair is messy from our jaunt down the street and his glasses are skewed. He cradles my elbows in his hands.
“You should’ve seen his face,” I say, sticking a finger in his chest. I mimic Xander’s wide eyes and slack jaw.
“I saw.” His thumbs rub against the skin on the inside of my arms.
My stomach does the flippy thing for the fiftieth time that night.
We stand there in the glowing streetlight. The trees framing the sidewalk sparkle with fireflies. My heart hammers in my ribcage and my chest heaves from my breaths.
“Now, where were we?” I ask, my voice low and husky.
Aidan’s mouth drops open. “Right. Right. Right. I-uh, w-w-w we were—”
I peer at him and blink rapidly several times. He stutters for a few more seconds. Did I break him or something?
“Ah, fuck it,” I murmur as I wrap my arms around his neck and our mouths crash together.
He stiffens somewhat, but then envelopes his arms around my body, running a hand along my back and fingering my hair with his other hand.
He presses his lips against mine, and I swallow back a groan in the back of my throat.
He tastes of mint, salt, and there’s a faint dab of coffee.
When we finally part, we rest our foreheads against each other while our breaths come in pants.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, just listening to the sound of the crickets and the hum of an AC unit somewhere nearby.
Finally, I break the silence. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”
“Really?” he says, his eyes widening. “S-s-so, have I!” He twirls a strand of my hair in his fingers and stares intently. “I’ve wanted to touch your hair since I saw you. I always thought it would feel like silk. Although to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what silk feels like.”
A low chuckle escapes me. “I’m not entirely sure either. What does my hair feel like?”
“Better than silk,” he murmurs. He runs strands between his forefinger and thumb. “It’s soft and fluffy and yet firm. I didn’t realize that the curls would just stay that way.” He grins and his white teeth gleam in the twilight.
“Really? Because you have wavy hair too.”
He reaches up and rakes through his own hair. “It’s shorter. I mean, I have thought about growing it out. But then I see Liam and his hair, and it makes me intimidated,” he wonders aloud.
I push a lock of his hair behind his ear, feeling the soft skin under my fingertips. “I think you could pull it off. If you grow it out, you gotta let me braid it.”
A dimple pops. “Done.” He lets out a huff. “Why are we talking about hair again?”
“No idea.” We kiss again. The AC unit has stopped, so now there’s no sound except for the crickets, our inhales and exhales.
“Are those stars? Or fireflies?” I whisper, nodding at the lights floating around us.
“What fireflies?” Aidan breathes.
“You’re not looking at them?” I ask. My fingers play with the ends of his hair as I take in the floating balls of light. I laugh. “They’re beautiful.”
“Why would I look at them when there’s something even more beautiful right here?” His mouth spreads into a wide grin.
My mouth goes dry, and I meet his steady, dark gaze. After a heartbeat, I kiss him again, softer this time, less needy. He’s gentle, despite the hot raging lust coursing through us.
Neither of us are looking at the fireflies.