“Aiden’s here!” Brooke breathed, her fingernails digging into my arm. “I told you he would be!”
The man in question flicked a glance over his shoulder. He saw me. Iknowhe saw me. His jaw clenched so hard that a muscle popped near his temple. He ignored the mystery manand turned his back. At least he was consistent in his hatred for me.
I tugged Brooke’s hand in the direction of the doors. “Can we go—”
“Free seats!”
She tightened her grip on my hand and ploughed ahead, dragging me to the two free stools at the end of the bar. Her hand shot up. The bartender ignored her completely, but she just grinned, unfazed.
“Just so you know, Aiden’s looking at you,” she said.
I snorted a laugh. Not likely. “Who’s that with him?” I asked, carefully trying to steer the conversation somewhere—anywhere—other than Aiden.
“Who?” Brooke’s voice pitched with interest, and she craned her neck, getting a good look in all directions. “Oh. Him.” She sat back, disappointed, and waved her hand as if his presence were a giant waste of time. “Ryan Hollyoak.”
“One oftheHollyoaks, huh? I haven’t seen him in town before.”
“He’s quiet. He breeds stinky cows and stuff. The church ladies rave about him, but…” Brooke shrugged. “I don’t see the big deal.”
“What? Too…blond?”
“No.”
“Too ruggedly handsome?”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”
“Too…not Harry?”
Instead of the smile I was expecting, she sighed. “I really thought he’d be here tonight.” Her confidence seeped away, and she sank lower on the stool.
I tried distracting Brooke by asking her about the new reality show she was hooked on. That chatter amused her for about twominutes until her fingernails started tapping impatiently on her knee. She hiked her chin and not-so-subtly peered down the bar.
“Oh!” Brooke’s hand shot out to grab my arm. “Aiden looked again.”
This time, I didn’t stamp down the flicker of hope fluttering in my chest. “Really?”
She squeezed my arm tighter. “He’s heading over to order. Quick! Go get drinks for us, okay? It’s the perfect excuse to say hi. We aren’t getting much love from the bartender anyway.”
I edged off the stool. “I’m not sure—”
“Go!”
She shooed me off with an encouraging smile, but my stomach twisted into a lump of knots.
Why did this feel like a terrible idea?
Aiden stood hunched over by the cash register, his finger tracing the trees on the coaster in front of him. His mind seemed lost somewhere else. When I slipped into the empty space, my shoulder accidentally brushed his, and his finger paused, tension locking his body still, but he still didn’t acknowledge me.
“Hi… Aiden.”
Scowling grey eyes slowly turned. “And what do you want”—his tone was even icier—“Lola from the City?”
Hearing that name was like a slap across the face. The memories of our night together were becoming more muddled, but I hadn’t imagined all the times he’d called melove.
“You know I hate when people call me that.” I couldn’t make my voice any louder than a whisper. His words cut almost as deeply as when he’d thrown away the apple pie I’d baked for him.
Aiden’s attention returned to the coaster. “I know a lot of things about you I wish I could forget.”
