Aaron shakes his head as he walks into the living room, peering at the stacks of books and video games on the coffee table. He looks so good here. In my apartment. Like he fits in perfectly.
“No, thanks.” He picks up the book on top, my physical copy of Ice Breaker. I know he and Bella went out while I was gone, if only because he took over my schedule .Apparently Noah said Bella picked it up for me after their date and she got Penny to sign it, too. I’ll have to tell her thank you, the next time I see her…
“Please, uh… make yourself at home,” I say awkwardly, running a hand through my hair.
He sits carefully on my couch, never taking his eyes off me.
“I won’t bite,” he says with a smirk. “Promise.”
I nod as I carefully pull my cardigan around my shoulders, suddenly realizing that I must look like absolute shit in my sweats with my bulky sweater hanging off me like an old lady, hair that hasn’t been brushed and I have yet to take a shower. I nonchalantly sniff myself, thankful I don’t reek of desperation and guilt. Just the faint remnants of my deodorant and cologne clinging to me.
I come to sit on the couch, leaving a modicum of space between us.
“So you wanted to talk,” I venture carefully. “You could have called.”
Aaron sets his hands on his thighs and purses his lips. “I know, but I didn’t want to give you a chance to say no.”
“I could have said no when I opened the door,” I say.
“But you didn’t,” he says softly. “You looked at me, and you let me in and—”
He swallows, looking at the space between us.
“You know I laid awake all night thinking about what to say. To you.”
My blood chills as the memory of last night pushes forth. Of myself, lying in bed, tossing and turning as I thought of him…
“What I should have said to you. At the party.”
“Aaron—” I sigh, holding my head in my hands. “It was bound to happen, I knew something would, we…”
I sigh. “We couldn’t keep pretending we were something we weren’t.”
I look at him, at his warm eyes and his soft expression.
“Right. Because what we were was an act.” He says solidly. “An illusion of grandeur.”
I nod, my heart in my throat. “Yes,” I choke out.
He nods.
“So… that should make this relatively easy, then,” he says as he slips his hand in his back pocket and procures a long black book. A checkbook.
My gaze fixates on it. It’s amazing how one small item can hold so much.
Can mean so many different things.
My heavy breath is not missed as the tension between us thickens.
Of course, this is why he came. To make nice. To pay me because that was all this ever was. A job.
He slips his pen off the leather top, flipping it open and writing it rather quickly. My eyes stay focused on his fingers, on the swish of his pen.
It feels like forever, but not long at all.
He rips it out and holds it in his fingers. Tightly.
“Aaron, you don’t—”
