Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Lovely! Swell! What a wonderful conversation we’ve all had! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go dunk my head in a toilet.
To save face, I look away and strike up a conversation with Dan, keeping my back to Aiden until I’m sure he and Allison have left the restaurant.
Chapter Five
Maddie
Knock, knock, knock.
Aiden’s at my bedroom door.
It’s Saturday morning. I’m still in bed, staring up at the ceiling wondering if a broken heart gets you put on the transplant list or not. Maybe a whole new organ—one not imprinted upon by Aiden—would give me a fresh start.
When I don’t answer, he cracks the door open and peers in.
“Hey!” I say, turning my head on my pillow. “I could have been naked.”
“You’re not,” he says dryly, dragging his gaze down my chest covered in a cotton tank top then down to the blanket bunched at my waist.
“Well I could have been,” I point out.
“But…you’re not,” he says, half-smiling.
I sigh and look back up at the ceiling.
He steps into my room without a formal invitation and brings with him the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He sets the mug down for me on my bedside table then tells me to scoot over.
I do, and he doesn’t hesitate before lying down beside me on top of my blankets.
We stare up at the ceiling together, not talking. A foot apart.
I breathe in his freshly showered scent and try to keep a tear from rolling down my cheek.
I’m not sure how long we lie like that, close to each other. Not touching.
I count the blades of my fan. One, two…five…then I speak.
“How was last night?” I ask, still unable to look at him.
“Boring. I left pretty early.”
“What about Allison?”
I need to brace myself if she’s in our condo, in his bed, right now.
He sighs like the question exhausts him. “She’s just an intern. My boss made me volunteer to show her around.”
The tension in my stomach starts to unravel.
“So she’s not out there waiting for you?”
He sounds almost offended by the question when he replies. “No. Christ. I barely know her.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Dan?” Aiden asks, and my eyes blink open again.
“He’s a friend.”
I see him nod in understanding out of the corner of my eye.
His hand scoots toward me on top of the blanket until his pinkie covers mine. I pretend not to notice, and then he starts to tap it against my nail, and when he starts to do that, he also starts to hum. I can’t pick up the tune at first. He’s not the most musically inclined, but after another few seconds, I smile and shake my head. He’s such a goof. It’s “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol. He’s making fun of us.
I laugh, and the tension in the air breaks. I sit up, grab ahold of my blankets, and toss the entire bundle on top of him. Then I scurry off the bed and round the edge to grab my coffee so I can make my escape. Aiden playfully roars, and even though I know we’re just teasing, adrenaline still spikes my blood as if I’m really being chased. I should leave the coffee and bolt, but the smell is too irresistible and I overestimate my evading abilities. My hand barely comes in contact with the handle of the mug before Aiden reaches out, grabs me around the middle, and tosses me back onto my bed. The mug gets jostled but doesn’t spill, and I squeal in real fear as he takes me by surprise. My eyes are pinched closed as he hoists himself on top of me, grabs my wrists, and pins me down.
He’s won. Clearly.
I’m completely incapacitated.
I open my eyes and they collide with his. They’re green like moss. No, like dragon scales.
“Mercy” slips past my lips, but he doesn’t move.
His inky black hair hangs down across his forehead, a few strands covering his left eye as his hold tightens on my wrists.
“Aiden,” I say, and his name is like a spell, breaking him out of whatever reverie he was lost in. He pushes up and off me then walks out of the room.
“I’m going for a run,” he murmurs, and I sit on the edge of my bed, heart in my throat, tank top askew, wrists pink from Aiden’s grip.
Otoko is as exclusive and upscale as I expected it would be. It’s a tiny restaurant in South Congress Hotel and reservations are made three months in advance, but James called a friend of a friend and got us in for Saturday night. I’m wearing a short black dress and heels. I spent a while on my hair and makeup, knowing Jolie would expect it. Aiden looks dressy but relaxed in tailored trousers and a checkered button-down. He’s rolled up the sleeves and undone the top button. His short hair is styled back from his face with some pomade, the way he does it when he goes to work or somewhere he needs it to look semi-tamed.