Nothing can ever come of this.
It doesn’t matter how much fun we’re having. It doesn’t matter how much I wish it was different because it’s not.
“I think,” I clear my throat, fighting against the instinct to run out of his house like my ass is on fire, “I need to get going.”
Aiden’s face sinks and I want to reach for him, but I fist my hands on my lap and force myself to look into his eyes.
“Dinner was delicious,” I tell him honestly, my voice soft; maybe to soften the blow. “I had a lot of fun.”
When I stand up, he does the same, leaving the plates behind as I move back towards the front door. I look back up at him, and I can practically see the words left unspoken, the ones he wishes he could say just as much as I do.
But we both know who we are and why this can’t happen.
I don’t have to like it, though.
We both suck in a breath when I grip his shoulders. I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. My words ghost over his stubbled jaw, “Good night, Aiden.”
Islip out the door before he can stop me. Hell, I slip out before I can even admit how much I want him to stop me.
Even though I said good night, it felt a lot like goodbye and I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same.
CHAPTER 6
AIDEN
Four days. It’s been four days since I left a note on Greylin’s windshield the day after our date. I doubt anyone else noticed it or took it. I’d be surprised if she didn’t get it.
It’s not like it was a sonnet or anything, but it was honest. I told her how much fun I had with her and how I wanted to do it again, without any bargaining beforehand. What I made sure to include was my phone number.
Because I wasn’t bright enough to get her number before she slipped away that night.
I swear I can still feel the tingle on my cheek from her lips.
She has no idea how close she came to being manhandled and kissed until we were both gasping for air. The look in her eyes told me she wanted me to do it. But she also wasn’t sure. And that hesitation is what allowed me to hold back.
Because the very last thing I want is for Greylin to run from me. Or think I’m anything like my dad.
Our date was the best one I’ve ever had. The conversation flowed easily. We joked, told stories, listened, and laughed.
I loved watching her face. She’s so expressive and it’s beautiful to see. There’s nothing fake about her and it’s refreshing as hell.
Or maybe I’ve gotten used to my dad and brother, where everything is image and appearance.
I could barely sleep after she left my place and when I did, I dreamed about her. Kissing her. Holding her. The note under her wiper was the best way to reach out, I thought.
But I haven’t heard anything from her, and I can’t take it anymore.
Which is why I flip my lights on when I see her, while practically tossing my lunch onto the seat next to me. I shouldn’t be doing it, but I swear the woman has been avoiding me because I haven’t even caught a glimpse of her.
It’s possible I could be paranoid, but I don’t think so.
Greylin pulls over, the stretch of road fairly empty and I’m glad we’re between storms and that the road isn’t lined with snowbanks. Another will come through again. Soon, I’m sure.
I damn near leap out of my vehicle the moment I come to a stop, barely managing to turn my lights off first. While I approach her car, I make sure to turn the sound on my radio down because there’s no way I’m allowing anyone to interrupt us.
We had an amazing time the other night. And now I haven’t heard from her.
Hopefully, I don’t come off too unhinged by doing this. It sure as fuck is how I feel.
