Chapter 6
6
Holly
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
As I lie back and sink into the tub, the steaming pomegranate-scented water laps just under my chin. I have to give it to Aaron; the guy knows how to draw a bath. I sink lower in the deep tub until the water covers my hair. I’ll regret it later when I have to remove the bath oils and dried flowers from my hair, but future Holly can deal with it. Present Holly is going to enjoy it.
I close my eyes and let my mind wander. Honestly, I would never have figured Aaron to be the type to run a bubble bath. I mean, sure, he’s a nice guy—he’s always been nice—and he is taking care of his mum. I just never thought he’d put effort into something like this. Unless he learned how to run decadent baths from a girlfriend. My stomach sinks at the thought, and that all-too-familiar jealousy creeps into the back of my mind. I’d rather believe he gained his experience from his mum. The way I’m carrying on, you’d think Aaron set a diamond ring on top of the bubbles and asked me to marry him in the steamed-up mirror.
I probably should rein in my imagination. Aaron is likely only trying to suck up for earlier and maybe staying out of shit with Mary.
The longer I soak, the more I relax. My muscles practically turn to jelly. My phone buzzes next to me, and it takes tremendous effort for me to turn my head to look at the screen. When I see Celine’s name, I dry my hands on the towel hanging off the towel stand and hit the speaker.
“How’s the family?” I ask by way of greeting.
“Loud, chaotic, amazing. How’s Aaron?” I don’t have to see her to know she’s wiggling her eyebrows.
“Well, for a start, I’m lying in a luxuriously scented bath that he ran for me.”
“Say what now?”
I can’t resist the urge to mess with her. “Oh my god, Cece, you were right. The minute we were alone, Aaron told me he’s been in love with me for years and needed to be with me.”
“What?” she screeches, and I swear the sound causes ripples in the water. “Are you serious?”
“No, I’m not serious, Cece. If there was ever any doubt about Aaron being the one I finally lose my V-card to, you best believe those doubts were finally expelled. I can tell you completely and unequivocally that it is never going to happen.”
I hear rustling on her end. It sounds like she’s unpacking. “What happened? Tell me everything. Is he a giant dick?”
“No, he’s amazing as always. Well…except when he let Basil butt me into the mud.” I fill her in about what went down and by the time I’m done, it sounds like she’s having an asthma attack, she’s laughing so hard.
“Please tell me Aaron recorded that.”
“Ha ha, very funny. No, he didn’t. And if he had, his phone would’ve gone off a cliff.”
“This is just classic.” Cece wheezes. “Only you can get yourself into these kinds of situations.”
“Yeah, well, I think we can put to bed that I am in fact not going to bed with Aaron ever.”
“I mean I don’t know. He did draw you a ridiculously romantic bath.”
“Mary made him do it.”
“Mary told him to run you a bath. She didn’t tell him to draw you a bath fit for a fifth-year anniversary.”
“Guilt will do that to you,” I murmur.
My skin is all pruned up and I’m nice and warm, so while Celine fills me in on her time with her family, I step out of the bath. As soon as I towel myself dry, I remember I don’t have any clothes. Damn it, so much for recycling my clothes until my suitcase gets delivered.
“Ah crap,” I moan and pick up my phone.
“What?”
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I—”
“Celine, so help me God if you so much as even think about saying ‘I told you so,’ I will end this call right now.”
“I need to finish unpacking and go down for lunch anyway, so your threats do not scare me.”
Ignoring her, I bring the phone to my ear as I search the bathroom. “Maybe there’s one of those luxurious bathrobes you see people have in the movies.”
“You’re in a three-star inn in Scotland. Not the Ritz.”
I step out of the bathroom in the hopes that there will be something I can wear in the closet, when I spot a maroon quilted coat with a note attached. “Kill me now.”
“What? It’s the truth.”
“No, not that. Mary left me something to wear.”
I pick up the note.
Holly,
I’m sorry I don’t have anything else that will fit you, so one of my housecoats will have to do.
The last time I was anywhere near your size was before I had Aaron.
I’ve got your clothes in the wash and will bring them up as soon as they’re ready.
Mary xxx
“Well, that’s good.”
“Not so much. It’s a housecoat.” I groan. “Today could not get any worse.”
Celine snorts. “I didn’t know they still made those. My granny had a navy-blue one and an emerald-green one when I was growing up. Put it on and send me a pic.”
“As if I’m going to give you photographic evidence.”
“Worth a try. Listen, I’ve got to go. Keep it sexy,” she teases.
I laugh and stare at the housecoat, hoping I can manifest sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. When the universe keeps mocking me, I put it on.
When I turn to the full-length mirror, it’s so much worse than I thought. So, so much worse, but I’ll be the only one who sees me in it until I get my clothes back from Mary, so I’ll just wear it and be grateful.
I’ve been so wrapped up in getting clean and warm that I haven’t really taken the time to look around my suite. It’s beautiful. The room is decorated in pale yellows and white. There’s a seating area with two single chairs and an oak table. A bronze standing lamp sits next to one of the chairs, and I can already imagine myself plotting or planning my book in the warm glow of the lamp and a cosy fire going.
On the table is a small bowl of cola cubes and pineapple chunks. I grin. Mary must have put them in here especially for me because she knows how much I love them. I pop a cola cube into my mouth and spin around the room when the familiar flavour hits my tongue, bringing with it all the excitement I’ve felt since my parents gave me the airplane ticket.
I did it! I’m in Scotland.
A knock on the door interrupts my happy dance. Whoo-hoo, Mary must have a turbo tumble-dryer or something, but I’m not complaining.
“Mary, you’re a saint. Thank you for the housecoat, but it’s not really my sty?—”
My words cut off when I find Aaron holding a tray of food. He gives me a once-over, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Nice outfit.”
Fuck my life right down a bowling alley. I have no doubt my face is turning the same shade of maroon as the housecoat. And while I’m sure the red glow might be an attempt for my body to camouflage itself, when I go to slam the door in Aaron’s face—as if that’s going to erase his memory—I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and yeah, I’m no chameleon. I am a delightful shade of red that does in fact match what I’m wearing but makes me look like a flashing beacon. Great!
Aaron catches the door with his foot and gently kicks it open. “Now is that any way to treat someone bearing gifts?”
He pushes past me and into my room, where he sets the tray on the desk.
“Did I say you could come in?”
Ignoring me, he inclines his head to the tray. “You should eat.” He leans against the wall and crosses his arms.
Damn, he looks fine. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me eat?”
He nods. “I don’t have anything better to do.”
“That’s just weird.”
“Why?”
“Why do you want to watch me eat?” I counter, mirroring his pose. “Do you have a weird food kink or something?”
His smirk deepens. “Trouble, I have a lot of kinks, but a food fetish is not one of them.”
“Then leave.”
“I’d rather stay and hope you’ll take pity on me and share.”
I frown. “No, get your own.”
“I can’t, Mam’ll belt me. She made that specially for you and I was warned off with a wooden spoon.”
“What are you, eight and scared of Mummy?”
“You would be too.”
I nod. Yeah, I get his point. Mary was known in the neighbourhood as being strict. She was a typical Scottish mum using phrases like “Cry and I’ll give you something to cry about.” I’d also heard her tell Aaron they were having shit with sugar when he asked what dinner was going to be. And her strictness didn’t only stay with Aaron. She was not afraid to swat anyone for being disrespectful. I’d even heard rumours that some of the families in the cul-de-sac would threaten to call Mary on their own kids if they didn’t listen. But she’d always been kind with me. Of course, I never gave her any reason to use her Mary voice on me. I couldn’t when my parents told everyone who would listen that I was the perfect daughter and kept me on such a short leash.
“Are you going to take pity on me or what?”
“You don’t have a spoon.”
He pulls one from his jeans pocket. A surprise, considering how tightly his jeans fit his cowboy ass (yes, I said cowboy ass. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t fight me).
“Mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He looks pointedly at me. “I usually get what I want.”
Hmmm, is that innuendo? I give myself a mental shake. One fancy bath, and a girl starts imagining things. “Fine,” I huff.
From the way he grins, you’d think he’d just won the lottery. He takes the food to the lounge area and sits down, staring pointedly at the other chair. I sit, and in these close quarters, his incredible scent wraps around me like a warm blanket. Damn, that punches straight in the gut.
“Eat,” he commands.
Funny that. I’ve read a bunch of alpha male books, and every time the guy orders the woman to do something—like eat—I roll my eyes and swear I’ll never let a man tell me what to do. But something happens to me when Aaron orders me to eat, and I wonder if I perhaps got a concussion when I fell in the mud. The very sloppy, very soft mud.
Tearing off a piece of bread, I dunk it in my potato soup.
I groan around the mouthful, and Aaron’s eyes go wide. He stares at my mouth for a long beat, then shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
Unable to help myself, my gaze flicks down to those tight jeans of his. Wait, is that a bulge?
He clears his throat, and I quickly avert my gaze.
Oh God, why am I like this?
He smirks and reaches for the bread.
“Hey! Break a piece off from the back.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re double dipping.”
He scratches his lip, but I don’t miss the twitch at the corner of his lips. “And why’s that a problem?”
“It’s gross. I don’t want your germs in my soup.”
He raises a brow. “You didn’t seem to mind my germs two years ago when I kissed you.”
And just like that, he addresses the elephant in the room. I try not to let my surprise show. I honestly didn’t think Aaron would bring it up. Hell, it was such a brief kiss, I wasn’t even sure if he remembered. I’m torn between asking him what that kiss meant and acting nonchalant.
“Cat got your tongue, Trouble?”
I rest my spoon against the bowl. All right, if he wants to play it this way, game on. “Why did you kiss me?”
Aaron places his own spoon on the tray and leans forward on the chair, intertwining his fingers as he chews on his lip. I hold my breath, waiting for him to speak, fearful that anything I do might stop me from finally getting the answer to the question that’s plagued me for the last two years.
He turns his head. “What are the chances of you letting this go?”
“You brought it up.”
He sits up straight, regret etched on his face. “I shouldn’t have. Nothing has changed.”
My heart sinks. I want to point out that a lot has changed. For one, I’m no longer seventeen. But I don’t want to come across as desperate, either. I have my pride.
Before I can think of what to say, a knock on the door gives me an excuse to stand up and walk away so Aaron doesn’t see the disappointment on my face.