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alk. She’s got this crazy list of things she wants to do and she’s always enlisting my help to do them.”
“Like going to a One Direction concert.”
“Like sneaking backstage at a One Direction concert.” Aria rolls her eyes. “I was sure we were going to get arrested.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, we didn’t. We did get caught by two security guards, but Lucy totally got us out of trouble.”
“Lucy. That’s her name?”
“Yeah.”
“She lives here in Vegas?”
“Yeah, my whole family does—” She breaks off, looks abruptly uncomfortable. I think back to her employment application, to the lack of an emergency contact. And wonder what the hell is going on. Aria obviously loves her sister, obviously spends quite a bit of time and money on her. So why the sudden discomfort? And why the lack of family contact information?
I want to push for answers, to find out what goes on in her head. What makes her tick. But while we may have had mind blowing sex this afternoon, we still barely know each other. Not enough to exchange secrets bigger than Fruit Loops and One Direction. And definitely not long enough for me to try to push her into trusting me with something that is obviously an issue for her.
So I let it go, even though my instincts are screaming at me not to. I pretend I don’t notice the strange look in her eyes or the sudden awkwardness in the air around us. And instead focus on settling her back down again.
I start by lying back on the bed and cuddling her close against my side. “Do you want more hot chocolate?” I ask as I rub a soothing hand up and down her spine.
“No. I’m good.”
She’s a little tense, a little wary, but I ignore that. Instead, I play with her hair, rub the back of my fingers against the side of her arm. Hold her tight as our breathing—and our heartbeats—sync up.
“What time is it?” she asks around a yawn.
“After four.”
“Wow. No wonder I’m tired. I was up at six.”
“You ready for me to leave?”
“No.” Her hand clutches at mine. “I mean, if you want to go, that’s fine. But if you want to stay…”
“That’s fine, too?”
She sighs, relaxes against me. “Yeah.”
“Go to sleep. I’ll stay for a while.”
She nods, squirming around so that her head is resting on my chest and one of her legs is draped over both of mine.
She doesn’t speak again. Neither do I. And in only a few short minutes, I hear her breathing even out as she slides headlong into sleep.
I’m not sure how long I lie there.
Long enough for the minute hand to turn a full circle on my watch and then some.
Long enough for dawn’s ruby red fingers to come poking around the edges of the mini blinds meant to block them out.
More than long enough for me to figure out that, even after only a couple of days, I’m in a hell of a lot more trouble with Aria than I ever anticipated.
It’s that knowledge—combined with the guilt that’s pressing down on me like bricks—that finally drives me out of bed. I rummage through her kitchen looking for a spare set of apartment keys. I find them in what looks to be the beginnings of a junk drawer next to the sink and use them to lock up after myself as I head out.
It’s only when I’m outside, leaning against the wall next to her door and taking huge gulps of air, that I finally let go of the stranglehold I’ve had on my emotions since I turned onto this street and realized which building Aria lived in. I’ve kept the memories, the self-loathing, under wraps for the past two hours because she needed me. But now that she’s asleep, now that I have nothing to focus on but the dark and seething past I’ve worked so hard to reconcile, I’m on the verge of losing it.
