Choking back my hurt and anger, I nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I know. No big deal.” I drew in a shaky breath and gave him a forced smile. Until I was certain that Aaron had changed and I could trust him not to hurt me again, we needed to go slow. I couldn’t blame him if he had sex in prison when I was giving hand jobs and letting guys touch me for money. Both of us had gotten tested when we began seeing each other again to make sure we were starting out with a clean slate between us. No more secrets, no more lies. “Maybe we should set some rules now? If we want a new beginning?”
His eyebrows scrunched together. “Rules? Like what? We never needed no rules for anything before.”
“Yeah,” I said drily. “And look how well that turned out.”
He threw his hands up in the air, then clenched them into fists, and I hated to admit it sent my heart racing. Was this the day he snapped and went back to that ugly place of yelling and blame?
“I can’t think about this shit now. I gotta shower and get ready to go to this job.”
Without waiting for me to answer or give my opinion or anything, he walked into the bedroom, and in a minute I heard the shower start. Fuming, I debated going after him but calmed down to reason with myself that I should give him space and not put pressure on him right before this job interview. Once he got settled and started making money, he’d feel better about himself. I went into the kitchen, got a drink of water, and took out some chocolate chip cookies my mom had sent home with us from Sunday night dinner.
“Frankie?”
I heard Aaron call me from the bedroom, and with a sigh I went to him, still holding a cookie. Naked, he stood in front of the bed.
“Should I wear a T-shirt or a button-down?”
Chewing on the cookie, I pointed to the T-shirt. “Plain, black T-shirt and jeans. It’s not a corporate job. They don’t expect you to come dressed up.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m being stupid and nervous about this shit.” He stepped into his briefs and put on the jeans. Before picking up the T-shirt, he took me by the hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’ta snapped at you before. I was wrong. I don’t wanna fight about it. I don’t wanna fight about nothin’.”
“I’m sorry too. We’re gonna have to start from scratch, I think. Like it’s a whole new relationship.”
Somber, he nodded. “I think that’s a good way to do it. Wipe the slate clean, kinda?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
His eyes darkened, brow puckered. “I’m not saying to forget what I did and how I acted. I know that. I gotta lot to work on. But I wanna nail down this job, ’kay? If I get it, then I can concentrate on doing right by you. Can I borrow your car?”
Asking, not demanding, was a new Aaron and gave me hope he could change. “Yeah, of course you can. And you’re gonna kill it. Now get dressed, and when you come back, I’ll have dinner ready before I gotta go to the club.”
He kissed me. “Like a real couple.”
I watched him pull the T-shirt over his head, the strong muscles of his back flexing. No one understood why we were together—not my parents, and certainly not Austin, who, though we’d come to an understanding, I knew still didn’t trust Aaron. How were people supposed to get a second chance if no one believed in them from the first?
“Yeah. Like a real couple. I’ll get out of your way. I got some work to do on my designs for class.”
I left him alone and went to the living room, where I had my materials spread out on the small fold-up table that doubled as a dining table and a worktable for me. My sewing machine sat next to it on a stand, and I had the makings of a shiny, black, vinyl trench coat spread across the table. I needed to get it finished by Monday, so I had today before going to dance at Man Up and all of tomorrow until dinner with my parents.
Ten minutes later, Aaron walked out of the bedroom, looking fine as hell in his black T-shirt and dark-wash jeans. He wore his black Doc Martens, and his mirrored sunglasses were pushed up in his short, thick, curly hair.
“Damn. You look hot as fuck.”
He flashed me a half smile. “I don’t know why I’m so fucking nervous. Like, I know everything about plants and shit.”
I held out my hand. “Come here, and I’ll give you a kiss for good luck.”
“Thanks, babe. I’ll call and let you know how it goes.”
“You’re gonna kill it.”
His kiss was soft and sweet. Then he was gone, the lingering scent of his woodsy aftershave keeping me company the rest of the afternoon. He had to get this job. Hehadto.
