—
AARON
This is not a lucky period for me. After the strange conversation with Liam and the disastrous evening with Ciara after having kissed her and refused her, after… after all of this, I pull the short straw to be the one to stay home with them. I knew that they would have been upset about it and that Rain would lead the pack, I know she won’t forgive me, but the others were truly worried.
Liam isn’t able to stay a night away from Rain, that man is fucking terrified of losing her again—the fear that something terrible could happen to her when he steps away for five minutes.
And Jay, Good Lord, that man. I admire him tremendously for his strength in staying by Alex’s side. It’s true that he’s loved her since they were kids, but it certainly can’t be easy being close to someone who could drop dead at any moment. Alex will always be sickly and there’s nothing that the heart medications can do for her other than try to keep her alive as long as possible, and I hope that will be a long time, a really long time, because I couldn’t stand to see Jay have a total collapse. What’s more she’s got another serious problem, which is that she can stop breathing in her sleep. It’s true that she’s not alone in that room with the girls, but with me in the house everyone just feels a little bit more relaxed about the whole thing. The guys seemed to think that I was the most appropriate one for the job.
And now I’m forced to bunk down in my room and handcuff myself to the bed, if necessary—whatever it takes to avoid an impulsive breakdown where I go to her, telling her what a jerk I was and that it’s not true at all that I have no feelings for her, and that I regret what happened. That I don’t give a damn about the promise I made to her brother and all the rest of it. That all I want is to have her in my arms and fill my eyes with her beauty.
How did I let myself get caught up in this story? To get muddled up in this mess?
I head downstairs, hoping not to get caught by the girls because I will have lost all credibility with them, because I promised not to leave my room. I hurry up making myself a cup of tea, not that I’m a huge fan of that dark toilet water, but a coffee would wind me up even more at this point. I take out a cup and some milk when I hear some light footsteps, and her perfume fills my senses, almost making me drop the cup.
“I’m leaving, I was just grabbing a cup of tea,” I say without turning around. This is because I wouldn’t be able to resist her presence in my house.
I hear her approaching the worktop in the kitchen but she says nothing. I take in a deep breath and turn around slowly, keeping my eyes downcast because I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to lie to her again.
The first thing I see are her bare feet. I allow myself to raise my glance to discover her perfect legs are nude before me, covered only by pyjama shorts that I would like to bite off. Just another little bit higher, I tell myself, and I discover her stomach in plain view under a fitted tank top that is damned near transparent.
Another centimeter of her skin and I will be hers.
One last big breath in and I see her breasts, which I can make out through the white fabric of that useless tank top, her soft shoulders—the same ones I touched a few hours ago.
By now, the damage has been done, I’ve already gone too far. The line has been crossed, the fortress burned down and my self control gone with it.
I am screwed and tattooed.
I let myself look her over from head to toe and it leaves me quivering like a schoolboy who has just seen a woman’s body for the first time.
Ciara is a woman. Hell, yes.
She keeps looking at me without saying anything. I see disappointment and frustration in her eyes and I know I’m responsible for it.
“Ciara…”
What the hell am I supposed to say to her? I’ve only just now realized you’re not a little girl, that you’re terribly sexy and beautiful and fair and that you emit a light that blinds me and yet exposes me to something I have always refused for myself and believed I had no right to have.
She steps towards me, dangerous and determined. She takes the cup out of my hands and brings them to her hips. I squeeze slightly, running them over her warm naked skin that I now feel below my fingers. I close my eyes and revel in the moment because it’s the only thing I’m willing to concede myself.
“Look at me, Aaron,” she begs.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t even look at me now?”
“No, Ciara, I can’t permit myself this luxury.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It would be a huge mistake.”
“Because I’m like a sister to you?”
“Jesus, Ciara… I really wish I felt that way.”
“Open your eyes, please,” she whispers sweetly.
