I’d turned into one of those girlsapparently.
And honestly, I didn’t care. Not even alittlebit.
I didn’t need to look at the clock on my phone to know it was right around six in the morning based on the shade of purple coming through my curtain. Aaron and I had stayed up until almost two, going back into the house to watch a movie when people started shooting fireworks off on the beach. Aaron had tensed every time thepew, pewsound from outside became particularly loud, but I didn’t make it known that I noticed. I wasn’t even sure he did, like it was more instinctual than anything. The rest of the group had shown up only about an hour into the movie after watching the fireworks, crashing on the couch to watchStargate.
When we’d finally gone down the stairs and headed toward our bedrooms, I’d thought about asking Aaron if he wanted to sleep in the room with me, but I’d chickened out and just kissed that mouth like it was the greatest chore I would gladly do every morning for the rest of my life and the next if anyone gave me thechoice.
But it was the hand of his that cupped the back of my head as he tipped his mouth deeper into mine that had got me going to my tiptoes. Just as quickly as he’d leaned in, he pulled back, kissing one of my cheeksquickly.
I was a sucker. A real, realsucker.
With my head full of crap, I did my usual shower and shaving and headed upstairs, knowing that was about as far as my morning routine would go. Instead of going out on the deck like I had almost every other morning, I opened the fridge and started pulling out ingredients. I’d just finished sliding the first omelet onto a plate when the stairs squeaked with weight. Sure enough, it was Aaron, freshly showered and looking not as tired as heusuallydid.
But there was something there in his eyes I hadn’t seenbefore.
“Morning.”
“Morning, RC,” he replied in that quiet, rough voice, slowly walking toward me. “What are youmaking?”
“Omelets,” I said. “I already made you one. I figured you’d want two at least,right?”
His gaze flicked to the pan I had in my hand before he nodded. “Needanyhelp?”
“No.” I looked toward the stove again. “It’s my turn thismorning.”
I wasn’t going to be sad. Today was going to be a good day. A great one. One that didn’t end with me blubbering into my pillow because tomorrow I’d be flyingbackhome.
No. Today was going to be a good day if I had anything to sayaboutit.
“You mad at the eggs or what?” came Aaron’s amusedvoice.
I stopped with the whisk in my hand and looked down at the overly whipped concoction inthebowl.
He must have already been standing right by me because his hip checked mine, almost scaring the crap out of me. “Scoot over. I’ll help so you can get done faster and you can sitwithme.”
So I could sitwithhim.
Tears prickled in the backs of my eyes and I stopped freaking blinking so they wouldn’t get any ideas about what they were going to do next. The next few minutes went by quickly, but the most memorable thing about it was avidly avoiding Aaron’s eyes as we moved around each other, making two more omelets in half the time it had taken me to make thefirstone.
“Who taught you how to cook?” I pretty much croaked out, knowing full well he had to have heard the hitch in myvoice.
“My stepmom, ex-stepmom,” he answered. “She’d only make breakfast and dinner. If we were hungry the rest of the time, we were on our own for food. She wasn’t going to be anyone’s maid, she usedtosay.”
That made me smile. “My mom would say the samething.”
I could see him try to make eye contact with me, but I couldn’t get myself to meet him halfway. I couldn’t. I knew I’d cry. I just needed… another second.Orfive.
“I’ve found a few recipes on my own too, if you can believe that,” he saidsarcastically.
I wasn’t in the mood for sarcasm yet, not when it felt like there was this giant chasm in my chest getting bigger by the second. “It’s hard to believe,” I repliedweakly.
There was a pause. A silence. And then a sigh seconds before two arms came around me from behind, a mouth speaking against my ear, “There’s nothing to be sad about, okay? This isn’t ourlastday.”
I sucked in a breath and didn’t make a single sound before I whispered, “It bothers me how well youknowme.”
“Toughshit.”
That had me laughing, even if it did sound watery and almostheartbroken.
