When he doesn’t answer, I place my hand on his forehead, testing it for fever, but he seems fine.
“No, it’s… umm… I wanted to talk to you about the other day.”
The other day? What is he…?
The words trickle away as the realization sets in, and my hand falls.
Shit.
He wants to talk aboutthatday.
I shake my head, my cheeks heating. “Aiden…”
“No, let me say what’s on my mind,” he says quickly. “I’ve been thinking about what your friend said, and I think she’s right. Guys like Damien, you cannot reason with them.” He presses his lips together, making the muscle in his jaw tic. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I can do it.”
“What?”
“Be your boyfriend,” he says, his eyes fixing on me as he waits for my reaction. “We’ve been friends since college, so nobody would think twice about it if we started dating.”
Shit.
Talk about a curveball.
“Oh.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and just stare at him, unsure of what to say. How to react. His offer is very sweet, but I can’t imagine myself dating Aiden. Not even fake dating. He’s a good colleague. A good friend. I graze my teeth over my lower lip. “Aiden, that’s?—”
“It doesn’t have to be for long,” he adds quickly before I can finish. “Just until he realizes it’s over, that youtwoare done, and he stops bothering you. I?—”
“That’s very nice of you, and I really appreciate your offer, but I have it figured out.”
He just watches me for a second, and I can see the exact moment he connects the dots. “So there’s somebody else?”
My cheeks are burning hot, but I refuse to lower my face. “Yes.”
“Who?”
“A… friend,” I finish after a heartbeat, when I can’t come up with a better way to explain my relationship with Matthew. I glance over his shoulder, making sure we’re still alone before continuing, “We both realized it’s beneficial for us. It’ll just be for a short while. Fake.”
“Fake.” He nods slowly.
“Yes, but thank you so much.” I place my hand on his arm, giving him a squeeze. “You’re a good friend, and I appreciate you doing this.”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, of course.”
With one last pat, I pull my hand back. “I need to go now. Mae will kill me if I don’t get to our Pilates class on time. But I’ll see you next week?”
“I’ll be here.”
With one last smile in his direction, I grab my bag and make my way out of the building.
The drive into town doesn’t take long, but the whole conversation made me run late as is, so I’m rushing into the changing room. Thank God for an extra gym bag that I carry in my trunk.
After a quick change and refilling my water bottle, I run into the class and spot Mae in the back of the room, an empty spot next to her.
“You’re late.”
“Well, it’s all your fault, as a matter of fact.”
Mae’s brows quirk up, but the instructor starts the class before I can tell her more, so for the next hour I focus on the class, trying to seamlessly sync my breathing, posture, and movements. Pilates isn’t about power but connecting your mind and body, which is what I love most about it. Don’t get me wrong, some days I question my sanity as we’re going through the exercises, but it isn’t just aimless pumping and trying to race to see who can get in the most reps.
