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)
My parents had nothing to worry about with him. In the two years since I moved in, we have not kissed or touched in a sexual way. He has not asked me out on a date, stared longingly into my eyes, made proclamations of love, or tried to seduce me. The time I saw him naked, it was only because I got home early from work and he’d left the door to his room open because he wasn’t expecting me. Innocent mistake.
Now just because Aiden hasn’t been pursuing me doesn’t mean he’s been a saint. In the two years we’ve lived together, I have seen him with other women. Lots of women. Loud creative types. Shy bookworms. Sporty yoga instructors. Worse, they aren’t even all beautiful; he’s not shallow like that. Most of them are funny and awesome and that’s part of the reason why I let them in when they come knocking after a breakup, wanting more of him.
I’ve been thinking about Kelly since last night, how she told me they broke things off months ago. I hadn’t realized Aiden has been single since then. It’s a record, for sure.
“Are you dating anyone right now?” I blurt out as I rinse my cereal bowl in the sink.
He shakes his head, keeping his focus on his breakfast so I can only see the back of his head. “No.”
“How long have you been single?”
He shrugs. “It’s not like I’ve been counting the days.”
“I’ve never known you to not have a girl on retainer.”
“Same could be said for you.”
I’m taken aback by this. Of the two of us, I’m not the serial dater. He is!
“What? I don’t date all that much.”
He turns around and quirks an eyebrow at me. “You’ve had three boyfriends since you moved down from Dallas.”
“Boyfriends?! They weren’t boyfriends. They were just guys I was seeing,” I insist.
“Yeah, well they all thought otherwise. You forget, I still work with Cole. He asks me about you all the time.”
I try not to outwardly cringe. “Right. I hope he’s doing well. He was nice.”
“He’s doing just fine,” he says gruffly.
“So, just to clarify, there’s not even one girl you’re talking to at the moment?”
“Why do you sound so shocked by that?”
Because I am!
Aiden rises from the table, grabs his bowl, and walks over to join me at the kitchen island. I’m still standing at the sink, so he has to curve around me to put his bowl down. We’re too close for comfort, him with his tousled bedhead and morning stubble, his naked abs right there for the touching…
“You like to think I’m some kind of womanizer,” he says, his mouth dangerously close to mine, “but let’s get it straight: I might date around, but you string guys along.”
My jaw drops.
“Yeah,” he continues. “You keep them on the hook just for the fun of it. You reel them in, let them out, tease them until they’re fully invested, and then”—he snaps his fingers—“just like that, you’re done with them.”
“Not true.”
“Darren,” he says, starting to lay names at my feet for proof.
“That was different.”
“Eli.”
“No.”
“Cole.”
“Okay.” I hold up my hand and try to push him away from me, but he doesn’t budge. All those protein shakes seem to be doing their job. I give up trying to move him and drop my hand with a sigh. “I see your point, but maybe I’m just trying to find the one. To do that, I have to date around.”
“I’m not buying it. If that was your goal, you’d pick guys who are actually your equal.”
“My equal?”
“Yes. You bring home these dudes who fawn all over you. They’re nice, if not a little dumb. Half of them wouldn’t know a joke if it bit them on the ass.”
Okay, now I’m pissed. If I had any milk left in my bowl, I’d dump it on his head.
“You’re wrong.”
“Don’t get upset.”
“Too late, bucko!” I move past him, march to the table, and yank my pillow from where he left it on a chair.
“Maddie,” he says, his tone on the verge of pleading.
“I don’t want to hear it, playboy! Keep your dating theories to yourself next time!”
“You’re the one who started it!”
Down the hall, I slam my door, stuff my pillow in a hiding spot under my bed, and start to get ready for work. I’m huffing and puffing with annoyance. Aiden doesn’t get to psychoanalyze my dating habits. Sure, I do it to him, but that’s different—my nosiness comes from a place of love. Truly. He doesn’t know what it’s like to live with your best friend, to eat and sleep under the same roof every night, all the while harboring secret feelings. He doesn’t know the torment of waking up on a Sunday morning and walking out into our kitchen to find a girl wearing one of his shirts, a sated smile stretching across her face as she tries to get to know me. He doesn’t know I keep Eli and Cole and all the others around because deep down, it’s better than being absolutely alone, wallowing in my feelings for my best friend. They’re a distraction. A means to an end. And sure, I wish just one of them would turn into something more than that, but they never will. Not with Aiden so close. Not with him taking up all my air.