Page 13 of Beneath the Quiet

He takes a deep breath and pushes back from the counter, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater.

“I think the pot’s still warm. Let me find that travel mug for you.”

“Thank you.”

Aidan nods once more, a distant look entering his eyes, and he opens and shuts one cabinet after the other.

“Can I help?” I offer.

He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose.

“Thanks, but no. I can’t seem to remember where I’ve put half the stuff I own,” he grumbles. He turns back to face me, pushing his glasses up his nose, and I almost feel sorry for him. Deep lines now furrowing his forehead, his eyes catch on something over my head. “I’ll just check that one.”

No sooner have the words left his mouth than he’s taken three strides towards me, trapping me against the fridge, and I gulp at how close he is. He raises his arms, caging me in, and all I can do is wait for him to move out of my personal space. My eyes flicker everywhere at once, and the air thrums with tension. I swallow hard, and nerves dance in my belly. Logically speaking, there’s nothing to be worried about, but my body locks in place. The sight of his arms over my head freezes me on the spot. There’s just something about a man’s arms that does me in, and Aidan’s are swiftly becoming a prime example of that fact. The blueish-green veins flowing from his wrists and up until they disappear in the sleeves of his soft knit have me caught in a spell, and I can’t seem to stop staring.

“Fuck.”

His soft curse does the trick, and I hitch a deep breath, wrenching my eyes away. But instead of moving then to a safer place, I find a much more intriguing spot.

Now, my attention is caught by something far scarier.

I can’t believe that’s even possible, but the collar of his sweater, and the steady rise and fall of his chest are mesmerising. Careful not to ram my head up into his chin for the second time today, I raise my eyes. The moment my gaze falls on the sight of dark-brown hair where his chest meets his neck, my breath catches, and even though I know I shouldn’t stare, I can’t help myself. Deep tugs below my belly remind me that it’s been six months since I’ve felt anything akin to sexual attraction to the opposite sex.

The timing is the absolute worst.

“Ah! Here it is.”

Aidan’s triumphant voice breaks whatever spell I was under, and when he moves a step back, giving me more room, I breathe deeply.

He looks down, his eyes falling on my mouth, then they jump back to meet my eyes. My mouth curves into what I’m hoping is a polite smile, only the burning of my cheeks warns me that it’s more likely wishful thinking.

His mouth stretches in a slow smile, drawing my attention to the fullness of his lips, and warmth swoops through the lower part of my belly. The cleft in his chins is deep, the urge to touch my lips to his is stronger than anything I’ve felt in a long time.

“I’m sorry for making you go to so much trouble.” I grimace.

“I don’t mind.” He unscrews the lid and moves back to the enormous teapot next to the sink. I can’t help but admire all the different herbs, or how neat they look in white jars on the windowsill next to each other.

“I made too much tea anyway.”

Aidan pours the mug full to the brim, puts the lid on, and hands it to me.

“Thanks so much, Aidan.”

“Do you need a lift home?”

The offer throws me. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

He shrugs.

“You’re not. I’m offering.”

I look around, searching for an excuse to turn him down.

“What about your daughter?”

He crosses his arms on his chest.

“She’s having a sleep-over with my parents tonight. I wouldn’t have taken a walk if she’d been home.”