Chapter 23 #3
“Of course it’s Aaron!” she whisper-hisses. “What do we do? Should I hide?”
I shoot her a look. “Why would you hide?”
“In case, you know—he wants to have sex?”
“He is not here to have sex with me!” I hiss some more.
“Want to make a bet?”
Oh my god, she can be so obnoxious sometimes.
I take one steadying breath, smooth down the front of my jersey again—why am I nervous? I’ve already slept with this man—and open the door.
Aaron’s eyes lift to mine.
He smiles. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I say all breathy…
Behind me, Blaire makes a strangled noise that sounds suspiciously like a suppressed laugh.
Suddenly, I want to choke her.
He studies me for half a second, then glances down at the number on my jersey again. “You wore that on purpose.”
“It’s laundry day.” I laugh.
“Sure it is.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then another as I stand in the doorway, not letting him in.
He clears his throat. “Should I come back later? I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
Oh my god. “You’re not! Come in, I’m so sorry.” I pull the door open and step aside. “Blaire is here, she was—”
“Leaving!” Blaire announces. “Blaire was leaving.”
But then, since they’ve never met face to face, my best friend unfolds herself and walks toward Aaron with her hand extended. “Hi, we haven’t met. I’m the bestie.”
Aaron looks mildly amused as he takes her hand. His grip is firm but polite. “Aaron.”
“Oh, we know,” Blaire says sweetly. “We’ve been discussing you extensively.”
Why is she like this?!
“Blaire,” I warn.
“What?” Her lashes flutter innocently. “It’s true.”
Aaron’s mouth twitches into a half smile. “Good or bad?”
She narrows her eyes. “Jury is still out.”
That’s mostly true.
Aaron glances at me. “Should I be concerned?”
“Probably,” Blaire answers for me, gathering up her purse and cell phone, then kisses me on the cheek. “Relax. He doesn’t look like a flight risk.”
His brows rise. “Flight risk?”
“Yes. You don’t look like the type of guy who’s going to ghost.”
His brows frown. “I’m not going to ghost her.”
Blaire studies him for a long few seconds, then nods, satisfied. “Good answer.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur to him, color staining my cheeks as my friend grills him.
“For what?” he asks, stuffing both hands in his pockets, giving Blaire a wide berth to fuss and orbit around us.
“For…” What exactly am I apologizing for? Because my best friend is being protective ? That she has my best interests at heart and doesn’t want me to get burned? Am I embarrassed she’s loud and boisterous?
“I like her,” he says, and I’m not entirely sure if he’s being sincere.
Hard to say.
I give her a nudge toward the door. “Time for you to go.”
Having them both in the same room is stressing me out. Not that I didn’t want them to meet, but this spontaneous pop-in has my nerves pinging all over the place. One wrong word and I’m going to self-combust.
Blaire slips on her shoes at a glacial pace. “Text me when he leaves.”
“Oh my god.”
Aaron laughs quietly at my misery.
She straightens and waggles a warning finger at him. “I mean it. Don’t mess with her head.”
“I’m not,” he says levelly. “Scout’s honor.”
“Oh please.” She snorts. “We both know you didn’t have time for Boy Scouts.” She studies him again, then nods once. “Alright, alright, I’m going.”
Finally.
The door closes behind her, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Silence settles in.
Aaron shifts his weight, eyes scanning the space briefly before landing back on me. “She always like that?”
“That was her on her absolute best behavior,” I croak out. “Sorry, that was a lot.”
He nods like “that’s fair.”
“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” he says. “But tonight was rough and I know you bailed because that thing between your brother and I… don’t blame you for coming home.”
I drop my gaze to the floor, pressing my lips, hoping to contain my ridiculous smile as joy blossoms in my chest.
A pool of literal euphoria melting to the floor.
“Come in. Take your shoes off and get settled.”
He glances down at his sneakers like he needs the instruction repeated, then bends to untie them. The entire thing is domestic in a way that makes something inside me melt.
I melt further when he lines them up neatly by the door.
His eyes drift toward the coffee table.
The open pad thai containers.
Two sets of chopsticks.
The napkins.
He smirks. “Was I interrupting dinner?”
“You are not interrupting dinner,” I say quickly. “We were having girl talk about boys.”
“Any boys in particular?” He winks at me, sliding his hands around my waist and pulling me gently against him. Nuzzles my neck.
The scratch of his stubble sends a ripple straight down my spine.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “Have you eaten?”
“I haven’t.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like it.”
Because he came here instead.
“I have more than enough to feed you if you want something.”
He pulls back so he can see my face, the dimple in his cheek making him look younger and devilish as he grins down at me. “That’s a loaded sentence if I’ve ever heard one.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “I meant noodles.”
“Noodles.” He nibbles at my ear. “Cookies. I’m no longer thinking about food.”