“You’re a runner,” he said, stating theobvious but unsure of what else to say to keep her from steppinginside and closing the door in his face again. He could make herleave here, but she’d hate him for it, and he’d already botchedtheir meeting enough without making it worse.
“I’ve been training for the Boston Marathon.Some coworkers and I are going to run it this year.”
He didn’t tell her she probably couldn’treturn to her old life; she would come to that conclusion in herown time.
“I didn’t think I’d like running, but lastyear, I agreed to try to qualify for the race because our team willbe raising money for foster children. It turns out, I actuallyenjoy running.” Maggie couldn’t stop herself from blathering outwords like an idiot. What did he care why she was running or if sheliked it? “Anyway, I have to get a run in today.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Why? You said the Savages couldn't go outin the day.”
“They can’t, but their cronies can.”
“Their cronies?”Stop repeatingeverything he says!
“Yes.” He glanced up and down the hall. “I’dprefer not to discuss this out here.”
Maggie examined her neighbor’s doors beforeher gaze fell on the box in his hands. Stepping back, she nudgedthe door further open with her heel. “You did bring breakfast, soyou might as well come in.”
Aiden managed to stop himself from crushingthe donuts as relief washed over him. This was a big step for her,he knew. One he hadn’t expected her to make. He vowed to bring herdonuts and coffee every day for the rest of her mortal existence ifit meant this much to her.
Entering the apartment, Aiden took in thethreadbare furniture, small TV, and hall leading toward what heassumed were the bedroom and bathroom. Plants hung from hooks overthe windows, orchids lined the windowsills, and sunflowers were ina vase on the kitchen table. The redolent aroma of the plants, thebutterscotch of Maggie, and a soft cinnamon scent filled the air.The place was small, nothing within it new, but it was clean andobvious that she took pride in it.
He followed Maggie as she walked into thekitchen. Small paintings of landscapes hung on the walls, but hesaw only one picture of someone else in the place. Setting the boxon the counter separating the kitchen from the living room, helifted the wooden picture frame to inspect the photo within.
In the photo, Maggie looked to be in herlate teens. She was laughing and had her arm around the waist of ahandsome young man. Love radiated from her eyes as she gazed up atthe man. The man stared down at her with that same vibrant loveevident in his eyes. He was also laughing at something.
Studying the picture, Aiden got a sense ofcloseness between them that made him think whatever they laughed atwas a private joke meant only for their world.
He resisted crushing the photo in his hand.“Who’s this?”
Maggie nudged the top of the donut box opento peer inside. She didn’t glance at the photo as she replied,“A.J.”
“You two look very close.”
“We were.” She already felt herself shyingaway from this conversation. She poked a Boston crème donut beforeclosing the box. “I should run before stuffing myself.”
Aiden continued to stare at the photo. “Youwereclose?”
“Yes.”
“Was he your boyfriend?”
“What does it matter?” she repliedimpatiently.
“I’m trying to get to know you better.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you.”
Maggie blinked at him, unsure of how torespond to those honest words. “Are you willing to discuss all ofyour exes with me?” she inquired.
“So, heisan ex?” Aiden pushed.
“He was much more than that, and you didn’tanswer my question.”
Aiden’s teeth ground together, but he knewhe wouldn’t get any more out of her without giving her somethingtoo. “I don’t have any exes. I don’t date.”
