Mason looks around, assessing the three of us. He can’t ignore the tension this time. “Mom?—”
“We need to talk,” Carlie calmly says as her jaw sets. “Now.”
AIDEN
When my sister sees an emergency, she acts.
There is no thought behind Carlie’s eyes, other than settling an emergency situation. She goes straight into fix-it mode—she did the same thing when we were kids and we got in trouble. No one was better at coming up with a lie or a solution in a split second.
It’s part of what makes her such a good emergency medicine pediatrician. It is also part of what makes her terrifying to deal with day to day.
The second the penthouse door closes behind her and the reality of what she’s walked into registers on her face—Harper in my shirt and nothing else, Mason laughing—Carlie’s hand clamps around my wrist. Her grip is tight, controlled, the way it gets when she’s furious and trying very hard not to make a scene.
“Aiden,” she says under her breath. “Office. Now.”
I don’t argue. I don’t even look back at Harper. Carlie drags me across my own penthouse, past Mason, who’s gone quiet in that instinctive way kids do when they sense adult tension. The sounds of the morning fall away behind us when my office door slams shut.
My office isn’t small. There’s a large desk and walls lines with loaded bookshelves. A big window provides a ton of light in the space, and a small fireplace makes it glow when lit. I even installed a small bar in the far corner.
But Angry Carlie dwarfs every detail.
She spins on me, eyes bright with an emotion I can’t clock. I’ve never been able to read her the way I read other people. I see folks on the worst days of their lives, and that lends a certain predictability to their expressions. Terror. Sadness. The occasional edge of madness when someone can’t accept what’s just happened to them.
Carlie’s face is warring from one emotion to another. “You cannot do this to her again.”
I fold my arms automatically. “I’m not doing anything to her. She needed a place to stay. That’s it.”
Carlie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Bullshit.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re lying. Maybe not to me—but to yourself. I saw the way you looked at her the second I walked in. And don’t think I didn’t notice the way she looks at you.”
“It’s early, and we weren’t thinking. The way we looked at each other means nothing?—”
“It means everything,” Carlie fires back. “You broke her heart six years ago, Aiden. You don’t get to pretend this is just about hospitality. You are not that naïve?—"
“She moved on without me, Carlie,” I say, heat creeping into my voice. “She has a kid. She built a life. She’s clearly been just fine without me.”
Carlie’s lips part as her brows leap up her forehead. “Fine?”
“Yeah. Obviously. She has a terrific son and a bar that is doing well, outside of a minor fire that won’t slow her down, and she’s?—”
“Fine?” she repeats while her nostrils flare. “You think that was fine?”
“Clearly, you think I said the wrong thing, but what the hell else am I supposed to think?”
She steps closer, voice rising now. “She married David three months after that night with you.Three. Months. You think that was true love? You think she woke up one day healed and ready to jump into a marriage with a nothingburger of a man?”
I shake my head. “That’s not?—”
“She was running,” Carlie cuts in. “From you. From what you did. From what she felt.”
I turn away, jaw tight, staring at the wall of glass that looks out over the city. I am jealous of every person out there, because they are not stuck in here with a pissed-off Carlie. I drag my fingers through my hair. “You don’t know that.”
“I absolutely fucking do. I watched it happen, Aiden. I watched my best friend convince herself that being safe was the same as being happy. I watched her miserable marriage fall apart. Because of you.”
Guilt gnaws at my gut. “I tried.” My voice surprises me with hoarseness. “I tried to put distance between us. After. I knew I’d fuck it up, Carlie. So, I tried.”
