21. Minji
MINJI
Night one with Aaron was everything I’d secretly hoped for. I’m wrapped around him like a vine, my leg thrown across his hip, my face pressed against the warm curve of his neck. Aaron’s arm tightens around me when I stir awake.
“Good morning, beautiful,” his voice thick with sleep. His hand traces lazy patterns up and down my spine, sending shivers through me.
“Mmm.” I burrow closer, not ready to face the world yet. “What time is it?”
“Early enough that we don’t have to move for another hour.” His lips press against the top of my head. “How did you sleep?”
“Great.” I yawn. “And you?”
He shifts slightly, rolling us so I’m halfway lying on top of him, my chin propped on his chest. His eyes are soft with sleep and something deeper that makes my heart skip.
“I could get used to this,” he says quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Singleton. You still have five more nights to prove yourself.”
His laugh rumbles through his chest beneath me. “Is that a challenge, Counselor?”
“Maybe.” I lean down to kiss him, slow and sweet. “Think you’re up for it?”
His hands slide down to grip my hips, moving me to straddle him and I can feel exactly how up for it he is. “I’ve never backed down from a challenge in my life.”
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I groan against his lips.
“Ignore it.” His mouth moves to my neck.
But it vibrates again, then again. With a sigh, I reach for it, squinting at the screen.
“Shit.” I sit up abruptly. “Eliza’s been trying to reach me. There’s an emergency with the Morrison case.”
Aaron’s hands slide up my back, his touch still distracting even as I try to focus on the messages. “How much of an emergency?”
“The kind that requires me to be in the office in an hour.” I start to climb off him, but his arms tighten around me.
“Five more minutes,” he pulls me back down for another kiss. “The legal world won’t collapse without you for five more minutes.”
Despite the urgency of Eliza’s messages, I find myself melting into him. Maybe the world can wait just a little longer. His hands slide beneath the sheets, finding the sensitive spot on my inner thigh that makes me gasp.
“Aaron,” I whisper, torn between responsibility and desire. “I really should—”
His fingers move higher, and my protest dissolves into a moan. “Should what?” he asks innocently, his eyes dark with want.
“You’re impossible,” I breathe, already grinding on his fingers.
“And you’re irresistible. Especially when you’re trying to be responsible.”
I should pull away. I should shower, dress, and rush to the office, where Eliza is waiting with a crisis that requires my expertise. Instead, I find myself straddling him, the sheet falling away as I press my palms against his chest. He reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom.
“Five minutes,” I say, taking the condom from him. “Not a second more.”
He groans. “I can work with that.”
Five minutes, my ass.
Twenty minutes later, I’m rushing to get ready while Aaron makes coffee. I emerge from the bathroom in a towel, my hair dripping as I rummage through my overnight bag for something suitable to wear, when Aaron appears in the doorway with a steaming mug.
“I made it extra strong,” he hands me the mug. “Figured you’d need the boost.”
“My hero.” I take a grateful sip before placing it down on the nightstand.
“I ordered you a car,” he adds. “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
I pause in the middle of pulling out my blouse. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. I know you don’t want me driving you to work.” He crosses the room and presses a kiss on my shoulder. “Consider it part of the six-night package deal. Incredible sex, home-cooked meals, and door-to-door service.”
I laugh despite myself. “Quite the bargain.”
“The best deal in town.” His arms slip around my waist from behind, and I lean back against him for just a moment, allowing myself this brief indulgence before the day pulls me away.
“I need to get dressed,” I say reluctantly.
“Need any help with that?” His voice is playful, but his hands are already moving to release my towel.
I step away while shooting him a warning look. “That’s exactly how I ended up running late in the first place.”
He holds up his hands in surrender, backing toward the door. “Fine, fine. I’ll go make you something to eat while you finish getting ready.”
“I don’t have time for breakfast,” I call after him.
“You’ll eat something,” he calls back, his tone brooking no argument. “Even if it’s just toast.”
Shaking my head, I turn back to my bag. The man is impossible, but I can’t help but smile at his insistence on taking care of me. It’s been a long time since someone worried about whether I’d eaten breakfast.
When I walk out of the bedroom fully clothed and ready to take on the day, Aaron has indeed made toast, along with a small container of yogurt and berries.
“To go,” he hands me a paper bag. “Since I know you won’t sit down to eat it.”
“You’re going to make me late,” I protest, even as I take the bag.
“Text me when you’re done with your emergency,” he says, leaning down to kiss me briefly.
The car arrives with a text notification, and I gather my things, suddenly reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of Aaron’s apartment. At the door, I pause, turning back to find him watching me with an expression that makes my chest tighten.
“Thank you. For everything.”
He understands what I can’t quite articulate. “Anytime, Counselor. See you tonight?”
“Of course.” I offer him a small smile and slip out the door, the memory of his touch still lingering on my skin as I ride the elevator down to the waiting car.
The Morrison emergency turns out to be a legitimate crisis—opposing counsel has uncovered financial records we weren’t aware existed, potentially undermining our entire strategy.
By the time I’ve put out that fire and restructured our approach, it’s nearly three in the afternoon, and I haven’t stopped moving since I arrived.
“You look different today,” Jasmyn comments as she drops another stack of files on my desk. “Like glowy.”
I glance up from my computer, narrowing my eyes at her. “It’s just a new moisturizer.”
“Uh-huh.” She perches on the edge of my desk, completely ignoring the mountain of work awaiting my attention.
“And does this new moisturizer happen to be named Aaron Singleton? I caught you two coming down from the rooftop that day. Didn’t want to bring it up then, but it’s been almost two weeks now, so I guess I can. ”
“Jasmyn,” I warn, glancing toward my open door.
She leans closer, lowering her voice. “Girl, I’m just saying, whatever he’s doing, it’s working for you. I haven’t seen you this relaxed in… well, ever. And I just know in the bedroom—”
My phone buzzes, and I try to ignore it, but Jasmyn’s grin widens.
“Is that him?”
I sigh, picking up my phone. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“This is much more interesting.” She stands, heading for the door. “But I’ll leave you to your sexting.”
“We aren’t sexting,” I whisper-yell, but she is already closing the door behind her.
Aaron
How’s the legal emergency? Need me to send reinforcements? Or maybe just coffee and a sandwich, since I’m guessing you haven’t eaten since that toast.
I can’t help but smile. How does he already know me so well?
Me
Crisis averted for now. And I did eat. Sort of.
His response is immediate.
Aaron
‘Sort of’ doesn’t count. I’m ordering delivery to your office. No arguments.
Me
You can’t just send food to my office. People will talk.
Aaron
Let them. I don’t work there or will ever be back there. Besides, you need to keep your strength up for tonight.
Heat rushes to my cheeks. Even through text, he manages to make me blush.
Me
I still have the partners’ dinner tonight.
Aaron
I remember. But after, you’re mine. Night two of six, remember?
Mine. The possessiveness in that simple word shouldn’t send a thrill through me, but it does. I’m typing a response when another text comes through.
Aaron
Food will be there in 20. Eat it. Doctor’s orders.
Me
You’re not a doctor.
Aaron
No, but I play one in bed.
I laugh out loud. This man is ridiculous, yet exactly what I need right now.
Me
You’re insane.
Aaron
Yet you’re spending the next five nights with me anyway. What does that say about you, Counselor?
Me
That I’ve temporarily lost my mind. Back to work now.
Aaron
Eat your lunch when it arrives. I mean it.
I set my phone down, the smile lingering on my face. Twenty minutes later, right on cue, Eliza appears in my doorway, balancing a delivery bag that wafts the unmistakable scent of star anise and cilantro.
“Special delivery,” she announces, her eyebrows arching toward her hairline. “Apparently, from someone who thinks the great Minji Lee needs reminding to eat lunch.”
I accept the bag with as much dignity as possible. “I appreciate you bringing this in.”
Eliza hovers, practically vibrating with curiosity. “Anything you’d like to share with the class?”
“Just lunch,” I say, already peeking inside to find steaming pho with a separate container of bean sprouts—he remembered. “That will be all, Eliza.”
She retreats with the satisfied look of someone filing away information for later use.
When the last drop of broth is gone, I snap a photo of the empty container and send it.
Me
Evidence of compliance, Your Honor.
Aaron
Case dismissed. The court looks forward to seeing you tonight.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of meetings, a few depositions, and client calls.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m excited to get off work.
These next few days are going to be heaven, but I must remind myself not to let my heart dictate how this will go.
Do not get ahead of yourself. This isn’t love.
This is just me finally taking what I want for once without overthinking every single consequence.
Aaron pulls me inside his apartment before I can knock, pulling me against his chest. His mouth finds mine instantly, and I let myself dissolve into him, my bag thudding forgotten to the floor.
My shoulders, which have been hovering near my ears all day, finally drop.
The woman who never relinquishes control is nowhere to be found when he holds me like this.
“How was your day?” His hands are already working to remove my blazer.
“It went well, surprisingly with all the chaos.” I kick off my heels with a grateful sigh. “The partners’ dinner is in two hours.”
“Plenty of time,” he says. “I’ve run you a bath.”
I blink in surprise. “You what?”
He takes my hand, leading me toward the bathroom. “You mentioned yesterday that you love baths but never take them because you’re always too busy or too tired. I figured you might appreciate one.”
Do not cave. Do not fold. Minji, hold it together. Don’t take this as something it is not. We’re just friends.
The bathroom door opens to reveal a steaming tub, its surface scattered with what appear to be rose petals.
Candles flicker around the edges, casting the room in a warm, golden glow.
The scent of lavender and something citrusy fills the air.
I’m genuinely speechless. This man knows how to lay it on thick.
“Too much?” He suddenly looks uncertain, and I realize I’ve been staring.
“No,” I say quickly, squeezing his hand. “It’s perfect. I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
His smile returns, relieved. “Good. There’s wine on the side if you want it. Take your time. I’ll be working on my laptop if you need anything.”
As he turns to leave, I catch his wrist. “Stay. Join me?”
His pupils dilate, but he shakes his head. “This is for you. To relax before your partners’ dinner. If I join you…” He trails off, the implication clear. I would not make it to that dinner at all.
“Fair point.” I laugh, releasing him. “Rain check for later?”
“Absolutely.” He presses a kiss on my forehead. “Enjoy.”
I strip off my work clothes and sink into the bath with a moan that borders on indecent.
The water is the perfect temperature, and whatever bath salts or oils he’s added make my skin feel like silk.
I close my eyes, letting my head rest against the edge of the tub, and try to remember the last time I felt this cared for.
Never, my mind supplies. Not even with William.
What was I even thinking when I was dating William?
I guess when you love someone, you tend to overlook the obvious signs and all the red flags.
William never once ran me a bath or noticed when I skipped meals.
He was too focused on himself, on what I could do for his image, his career.
This—Aaron paying attention to my smallest needs—feels like being seen for the first time.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
I sink deeper into the water, letting the warmth seep into my bones as my mind churns.
Six nights. That’s what I agreed to. Six nights of letting Aaron take care of me, of pretending this bubble we’ve created can last beyond his departure for the book tour.
But what happens after? Do we text occasionally?
Awkward phone calls that fade into nothing?
I was never good at long-distance anything.
Two weeks without anyone in my presence, I forget.
The thought makes my chest tight. I take a sip of wine, trying to wash away the bitter taste of inevitable disappointment.
This is exactly why I don’t do this. Why I don’t let people in, don’t get attached.
Because caring about someone means giving them the power to hurt you, and I’ve had enough hurt to last several lifetimes.
But even as I try to build my walls back up, Aaron’s voice drifts from the living room.
He’s on a phone call with what sounds like his publicist, discussing tour details.
His laugh carries through the apartment, warm and genuine, and my resolve weakens.
How can I protect myself from someone who makes me feel this safe?