And wasn’t that the problem?
I was in a constant state of push and pull over what I wanted, and what I needed from him.
He opened his mouth to talk, closed it, then shook his head slightly. “You’re off this weekend,” he commented.
I nodded slowly. “I’m watching my nephew while my brother and his wife are out of town.” I gestured behind us at the main portion of the gym. “Kelly is covering for me.”
He hummed in assent. “Have a good weekend then.”
Aiden started to walk away, and I watched him carefully. I wanted him to be jealous over his brother flirting with me.
Like he heard me think it, Aiden paused and faced me again. “I shouldn’t have assumed you didn’t want to talk to Beckham. I’m sorry.”
My eyebrows popped up. “It’s fine.”
He nodded.
I took a deep breath, steadily held his gaze, and lifted my chin a touch. “I’m not interested in your brother.”
Aiden went stock-still, and I cursed myself up, down, and sideways for feeling like I needed to explain it to him.
In the moment we locked gazes after I said it, I imagined all sorts of things.
Me saying that I was interested in him.
That he was quickly becoming my favorite person to spend time with.
That I wanted him.
Imagined Aiden striding toward me, gripping my face in both hands and slanting his mouth over mine. My hands snaking under his shirt so I could memorize the muscles with my fingertips. I imagined the way he’d be able to lift me easily, the way he’d be able to move and press and push my body into a knotted tangle of pleasure. Not once, in my entire life, had I fantasized about someone having the strength to hold me down, pin me in place, but sitting in that chair, I knew that I’d let him.
Let had nothing to do with it. I’d beg him to.
I’d give up all control to Aiden, and I had a feeling that he’d know exactly what to do with it.
“Good,” he murmured, eyes holding mine for just a second longer. And then he turned back toward his office.
It was only when he did that I finally started breathing normally. For a while, it seemed like he and I might have found steady ground, a foothold into a new place that I was enjoying.
Maybe I was kidding myself to think that getting to know him better would ever lead to me wanting him less. Because as he walked away, I knew I wasn’t doing so hot getting my feelings for him under control.
And when he glanced back in my direction, I had to wonder if I wasn’t the only one.
Chapter Fifteen
Isabel
“I think we should go out for breakfast,” Emmett said.
We stood side by side, staring into the fridge. Amazingly, our staring did not magically make food appear.
I winced. “We can make something. There’s like … eggs. And bread. And cheese. That’s enough, right?”
He looked up at me. “You’re asking me what to do with those two things? I’m a kid.”
“You’re almost ten.”
“You’re like … twenty-five. If anyone should be able to cook breakfast, it’s you.”
I stared at the shelves with a heavy sigh. “Everyone has talents in this life, Emmett. Cooking is not one of mine.”
“No shit.”
With a determined lift of my chin, I started pulling things out. “I’m going to ignore that.”
He took the eggs when I handed them to him, setting them on the counter with a skeptical look. “Mom’s gonna be pissed if you poison me with your cooking before they get home.”
“Nah, she’ll forgive me.”
Emmett grinned.
This poor kid. He had no choice but to speak fluent sarcasm considering the family he was born into.
A minute later, the kitchen counter was covered in an array of things that should’ve equaled out to a pretty epic breakfast.
“Don’t they have like, fancy cooking gadgets that make this stuff easy?”
His eyes lit up. “They have one of those air fryer things. And a toaster.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know what a toaster is, Emmett.”
“Are you sure we can’t just go out to breakfast?”
“Tomorrow,” I insisted. “It’ll be our reward for not killing each other after all this unsupervised time together.”
“If your breakfast doesn’t kill me first,” he muttered.
I shoved him sideways. “Get out of here with that bad attitude.”
Emmett sighed. “Just don’t use the microwave and toaster at the same time. Mom said a really bad word yesterday when she did that.”
Rolling my eyes, I said “I know how to work appliances, Emmett. Go watch those awful cartoons.”
After anchoring my hair in a bun at the top of my head, I mentally rolled up my sleeves and got to work. I managed to crack some eggs in a sizzling skillet, with only a few chunks of the shell that I scooped out. Bread went into the toaster, and I jammed the button down.
Pulling a bag of sausage links up closer to my face, I tried to read the reheating directions. The eggs took up the whole skillet, so I ripped a piece of paper towel off the roll and stuck a few links into the microwave.
For a moment, I eyed the two appliances. I’d never heard Paige complain about running them simultaneously, and even though I hadn’t lived under their roof for four years, I would’ve remembered if it was an issue.
With a shrug, I pressed the start button on the microwave.
The whole kitchen went dark.
“Shit sticks,” I whispered.
“Told you that would happen!” he yelled from the couch.
With my hands on my hips, I let out a deep sigh. “It’ll be fine. I can just go flip the fuse. Can you yell when the lights go back on?”
“As long as you didn’t blow the fuse,” he said, sounding so much like Logan I almost rolled my eyes. “Dad said if Mom did that one more time, he was going to let her change it herself.”
I smiled. “And what did she say to that?”
“That he could shove his fuse up his ass because she’d be just fine if she had to.”
I was still laughing when I walked down the hallway and opened the utility closet. But when I opened the gray metal door, my laughter died a horrible death.
Note to self: listen to the ten-year-old when he tells you not to run the appliances at the same time.
Emmett eyed me when I came back to the family room. “What’s wrong?”
“Fuse is blown.”
“Are you going to call someone to come fix it?”
My thumb tapped furiously on my thigh as I thought about my options. “I may not have to.”
I yanked out my phone and sent a text.
Me: You at the gym yet?
* * *
Kelly: Probably not for another hour, why?
* * *
Me: Nothing. Just trying to remember if I had a box of fuses in my office. Remember when Amy was having all those issues last year?
* * *
Kelly: Someone blew the fuse on the stereo in the middle of a Sunday afternoon class. YEAH, I REMEMBER. You ever tried to teach with only sound of your heavy breathing to motivate people?