“What he did that night was unacceptable, and he didn’t call me for two weeks. It’s like what happened meant nothing.”
“Babe, you said yourself that he was open that he had commitment issues.”
“That was before he asked for more than just that night.” I gulp down my wine and pour another.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you really like him, and he obviously wants you around. He said he missed you. That counts for something, right?” She shrugs.
“I don’t know anything when it comes to that man. I panicked when I heard he was hurt. I barely slept those two days. And now, I don’t know. I just feel like being around him is just confusing me more than anything. He looks like he wants to kiss me, then he pulls away. He wants to talk, and then he shuts down.”
“He’s giving you whiplash.” She smirks. “But he’s hot as fuck.”
“Trust you to say shit like that. What about you? Things with Josh still tense?”
“He’s an asshole. I’ve come to terms with that. Can we not bring up douchebag tonight? I’d much rather talk about hot firefighters that you and Moira seem to have bagged. Isn’t there one for me?”
I roll my eyes. “Trust me, I have bagged nothing. Bedded yeah, bagged, no way.”
“I’ll settle for anything right about now. My vagina is growing cobwebs.”
That throws us into a fit of laughter. Tamara was there for me when I lost my aunt Sam. I like this, just chilling with her and chatting, complaining about guys. Darren and Kiran are my best friends, but this girl right here is proof that not all women are bitches.
A knock on the door startles us both. She stands. “I’ll get it. Pour me more wine.”
She makes a show of modeling over to the front door, and I giggle.
“Well, hello there,” she purrs, and I know instantly it’s a man. It must be a delivery. I look at the time. It’s dinner time, hardly likely.
I walk over to the door, and I’m taken aback to see Aidan on my doorstep. He looks like sex on two legs with his white button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves and dark jeans. His hair is freshly washed and hangs over his eyes.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt. I didn’t know you had company.”
“Oh, I was just leaving,” Tam, the traitor announces and disappears inside the house. I stand with my arms across my chest, glaring at him, not saying a word. She returns a few minutes later with her bag and keys.
“You two have fun now.” Kissing my cheek, she brushes past Aidan with a wave.
God, this man smells like heaven. “Can I come in?” His voice is pensive, and I narrow my eyes at him. He’s grown a few days of stubble, which makes him even more of a hazard. My fucking traitorous hormones.
“Sure,” I say, turning and walking inside. The door clicks behind me.
“Wow,” he says. “It’s strange being here.”
I remember he said he lived on this property. My aunt purchased the land and built this house about fifteen years ago.
“Is it anything like your home?”
He smiles in that lost-in-thought kind of way. “Not really, but it’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I notice the bags in his hands. The smell is sinfully good.
“Oh, I thought I’d bring us dinner. I wasn’t sure what to get, so I asked Darren for some help.” He smiles sheepishly.
“We can eat in the kitchen,” I say, leading the way. I remove plates from the cupboard and set them on the table. “Beer?”
“Sure.” He sets the food down and opens up containers. Garden burgers, fries, wings, ribs, chicken, and a few sides.
“What did you buy? Everything on the menu?” My stomach growls.
“Just what Darren said you like.” I shake my head. He sits opposite me, and I hand him a beer. We eat in silence, casting glances at each other over the food. It isn’t awkward, and some of my annoyance dissipates. We clean up when we’re done; he washes, I dry.
When we’re in the living room, I offer him a seat on the couch.
“I should have called.”
“No shit,” I bite.
“I deserve your anger. I couldn’t believe you were there in the hospital after the accident.”
“I work there.” I fold my arms and refuse to meet his gaze. He chuckles.
“Still, it was nice of you. And that you visited me after.”
“I get it. You’re thankful.”
He lets out a sigh. “I fucking suck at this.”
“Pretty much,” I hiss.
“I haven’t had a serious relationship, not ever. In fact, I can’t say I’ve actually dated anyone.” I look over at him, and I can tell this is hard for him.
“Why not?” I ask more gently.
“Until you, I never thought I needed to.” My heart rate picks up at that admission.
“My mother died when I was eight years old, in our house.” He looks around the room thoughtfully. “She was pregnant with my brother.”
“Oh, Aidan,” I say, turning toward him. My heart aches for the strong man in front of me who looks like a little boy in this moment.
“I survived the fire. She didn’t. Died right out there on that lawn.” He sniffs, and I realize he’s crying. There is nothing more beautiful than a man in touch with his feelings.
“My father was out. My grandmother said he was with his mistress. I don’t know how true that is, but he took his life shortly after.”
I move closer to him. I don’t attempt to touch him. His hand rests on my thigh, and he squeezes it. “I carried that night with me. I refused to let it go, refused to stop blaming myself.”
“You were a boy . . .,” I say softly.
“I know. But I spent my life replaying what I could have done. Maybe if I’d reminded her to blow out the candles, or if I hadn’t complained that I wanted a story.”
“I get that.” I press my lips together. “It’s the kind of thing I tortured myself with after my parents died.”
He turns to me, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I don’t want to live that way anymore. I want to actually live, not just float through life the way I have been. I don’t know what tomorrow brings, and I know that being with me will give you more stress than peace, but if you'll have me—”
I don’t let him finish. Instead, I press my lips to his. This kiss is different from the others. I pour all the empathy I feel for the boy whose world was torn from him, and all the love I know I feel for the man in front of me into it.
“Let’s just start with tonight,” I whisper when we break our kiss.
“I’d like a lot more than that.” He smiles at me, cupping my face with his hands. “I’d like a whole lot more.”
THE END
Acknowledgments
As a writer, I am not alone in my journey to hitting publish. Being full-time employed in the corporate world does not give me enough time to be Jo, the Author. I have to find the time for now, and I am so blessed to have a family behind me every step of the way as I create these words. I have excellent editors (Kim BookJunkie and Candice Royer), proofreaders, cover designers, my review and street teams, bloggers, other authors, promo companies, and a godsend of a PA, Zulfa. They give me so much love and support. I cannot put into words how deeply grateful I am to have you all in my world. I cannot overemphasize my gratitude.