19. "I'm not responsible for what happens if you don't stop."
(1661 words)
The next evening when I returned to my bedroom after spending time outdoors with Mrs. Ashford, I was caught off guard by the surprise that rested quietly on my table for me.
A giant cake box sitting neatly on the centre of the desk in the room.
I blinked, stepping closer and eyeing it like it was a bomb ready to explode.
As I pulled the box open, my breath stood still at the sight.
It was a round cake, topped with vanilla frosting and glittery pink icing that said:
My heart skipped a beat at the familiarity of the words.
I stared at it.
Then blinked again.
A soft knock sounded on the door before it opened halfway. "Forgot to tell you," came Zayden's voice, casually arrogant as ever. "You have a delivery."
I turned around, eyes narrowed. "Is this your doing?"
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with his usual unreadable expression. "It's not every day someone manages to live through my terrible company and a thunderstorm."
My mouth hung open in shock, a strange warmth spreading through me. "You went out of your way to get me a cake?"
A smirk stretched at his lips. "I didn't go out of my way. I sent someone to get it."
I rolled my eyes. Of course.
Still, I couldn't stop staring at it. It didn't make sense. Zayden Ashford didn't do gestures. He did orders. Transactions. Calculated words with sharper edges than broken glass.
And yet... here was a cake. Something I had joked about. Random words that had spilled out of my mouth that he decided to go through with.
"Glittery pink icing?" I raised an eyebrow, a playful smile playing at my lips.
"I know I should have gone with the colour of your soul: black. My bad." He countered playfully.
I snorted, returning my attention to the cake, struggling to contain the happiness it made me feel. It felt thoughtful and nice... something very unlike Zayden Ashford. And that's what made it all the more special.
"You actually remembered I said that." I murmured, sounding like a kid that had been gifted a boxful of toys.
He averted his gaze as if trying to hide what he was thinking. "Whatever... by the way, you breathe too loud when you sleep."
An eyebrow of mine shot up. "I do not."
"You do," he insisted flatly. "Like a faulty air vent."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "So you willingly slept next to me, huh?"
"I passed out," he corrected. "Next to the heater. Which happened to be you."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the grin tugging at my lips. "Awww, you thought I was warm?"
I swear, I saw the faintest pink tinting his cheeks.
"Don't flatter yourself." He mumbled.
I smirked. "You seem to really enjoy holding on to me."
He cleared his throat. "You're very clingy in your sleep."
I arched a brow. "You were the one clutching onto my waist like you were afraid of losing me."
He snorted. "I was trapped. You roll around like a burrito."
I laughed, shaking my head as I grabbed a fork from the side of the box.
He watched me as I took a bite, slow and curious. "Good?"
"Mmm," I nodded, savouring the taste. "It's good. A little too sweet though."
"Fitting, then." He uttered dryly.
I turned to grin at him after I had swallowed. "Aww because I'm sweet?"
"Because you're a little too much." He replied flatly.
I rolled my eyes, nothing seeming to get rid of the grin on my face.
Walking up to my bed, I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it one-handed, effortlessly, then tossed it back on my bed.
Sighing, I took a forkful of cake and brought it to his lips. "Open up, Zayden. Perhaps the sweetness can help neutralise your unwavering bitterness."
He snorted, wrapping his mouth around the fork.
One simple move, and it sent heat pulsing down to my core like he had wrapped his mouth around me.
Then he took a step back. "There's more cake in the kitchen if you eat like a gremlin and finish that in one sitting."
I gasped, ignoring his remark which clearly meant nothing but to try and get on my nerves. Too bad it wasn't working. "You stocked extra?"
His mouth twitched. "I prepare for disasters. You count."
Then he was gone.
I stared at the empty doorway for a second, then down at the cake again.
It was stupidly adorable and impossibly sweet.
And it was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in weeks.
The nicest thing Zayden Ashford had done for me besides holding me through the storm...
———
She was doing it again.
Lounging in the middle of the living room like it was her goddamn kingdom, legs folded beneath her on the couch, eyes glued to her tablet, and—because fate hated me—wearing clothes that barely qualified as clothes. Yet again.
A thin, silky tank top with straps that looked one tug away from surrender, and shorts that didn't deserve the plural.
I stopped in the hallway and just stared for a second, jaw tight, unable to look away.
It wasn't like I hadn't seen skin before. Hers, even. But there was something about this specific brand of casual recklessness that got under my skin.
I shouldn't have felt so hot and bothered.
But I did. I always did.
I stepped forward, hands in my pockets as I attempted to speak in an unaffected tone. "Trying to give the house a heart attack again?"
Aurelia looked up slowly, her expression one of exaggerated innocence like she didn't know that she looked like a sinful temptation that people could start wars for. "Oh hi there."
I sat on the couch opposite to her, taking a sip of my coffee. "Did you finish the cake?"
She smirked. "You think I liked it that much?"
"I don't really care." I replied nonchalantly.
There was no way she didn't like it. She loved it. I saw it in her eyes.
She swung her legs over the edge of the couch, rising to a stand, and gave me a knowing look. "You could just tell me I look good, you know."
"Huh?"
Her lips lifted up into a smirk. "I can see the way you're admiring me. You can be honest and tell me how good I look."
"You don't look good," I said automatically. "You look inappropriate."
She laughed before arching a brow. "Then why don't you stop staring?"
"I'm not staring, Sinclair. Stop being delusional, and start wearing real clothes."
"Sure you're not. And this"—she gestured to herself—"is just comfortable loungewear. You're just making it weird because my skin makes that thing in your pants stir."
My eyes widened before they narrowed at her.
"Because you're walking around dressed like a damn temptation."
She quirked a brow, slowly stepping toward me. "So you're admitting you're tempted?"
I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to facepalm myself at my idiotic slip of tongue. "I'm annoyed."
"Mm-hmm." Her eyes flicked down to my shirt, then back to my face. "Is that why you're sitting so stiffly?"
"Stop looking at me like that." I warned, my heartbeat picking up pace for some reason.
"Like what?" She teased, voice controlled, eyes shining with mischief.
"Like you're trying to start something you'll regret." I deadpanned, giving her a firm look.
She stepped closer. Bare feet on hardwood. Lips curled up into a smirk.
"Maybe I won't regret anything," she murmured. "Maybe I want to see what happens when Zayden Ashford finally loses that icy little grip of his."
I narrowed my eyes. "You think you want that. You don't."
"No?" She challenged, now standing just inches away. "Why don't you show me?"
There was a beat of silence. My breathing had gone shallow. Her hand grazed my chest—lightly, casually. Like she had every right.
I caught her wrist before it could go any further.
"Don't." I said, voice low, even though my body almost betrayed me.
Almost.
Her lips curved. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not responsible for what happens if you don't stop." I snapped.
Her eyes searched mine for a moment, something electric stretching between us.
Then...
"Aurelia, sweetheart!" Came my mother's enthusiastic voice from the hallway.
We both jolted apart like teenagers caught behind the gym, my hand dropping her wrist.
Aurelia spun around, composure sliding into place. "In here, Mrs. Ashford!" She called out.
I ran a hand over my face and muttered a curse under my breath.
Seconds later, my mother popped her head into the room, cheerful as ever. "Oh good, both of you are here! I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me to a friend's place for dinner."
Aurelia smiled sweetly. "Of course. I'd love to."
I didn't answer. I was too busy pretending I hadn't just almost lost control in my own damn living room.
My mother's eyes flicked between us, suspicious. "Everything alright?"
Aurelia beamed. "Yup."
"Fantastic." I gritted out, avoiding her eyes completely.
"Well then," Mom said slowly, "you'll come to the dinner, right, Zayden?"
I shook my head. "Sorry, mom. I have meetings."
"Oh okay then." She replied. "You both carry on with whatever you were doing... Aurelia, be ready at eight."
"Okay." Aurelia gave her an energetic reply.
As soon as mom turned and walked off, Aurelia glanced over her shoulder at me, that infuriating glint back in her eyes.
I didn't move. Just met her gaze, silently warning her.
She winked.
And walked away.
I stared after her, trying to remember when exactly I lost control of this situation.
Oh right probably the moment I silently gave in to my parents letting her move in.
And now?
Now I was completely, undeniably fucked.