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Aden is getting to be an expert at reaching second base in record time. He’s taken a lead toward third base, but he has definitely not hit it. Which is slowly killing me. Because I want him at third base. Hell, I can admit it. I want him sliding all the way home.
He’s even started sleeping on the sofa in the living room. Which is fine. I like having him under the same roof as Jack and I. I do. It feels good. It feels happy.
What he has not done, what we have not done is sleep in the same bed together during these two weeks. He has not undressed in front of me and my hands have most definitely kept above the belt at all times. So the fact that Aden is standing here in front of me—undressing—is freaking me out.
I’m on a mountain of carefully constructed lies. It’s like a house of cards. They’ve been delicately placed—though they’ve pretty much just been thrown out there in wild panic—and they’re settled. They’re in place and I have to dance and skirt around them to keep the status quo. It’s a dangerous game I’m playing, and it could all fall apart with just the slow, smooth pull of his zipper.
The zipper which is right this second currently undone.
My eyes go round as he pushes his pants down his body, kicking them to the side. Aden has a beautiful body. His upper body is covered in these Gaelic inked designs that make me want to lick each individual one. His chest has hair. He’s more real man than these models which grace the runways these days on the fashion scene. I doubt there’s a spot on his body that has been waxed, and I like it that way. I find myself wanting to bury my face against it and breathe him in. His legs are strong and powerful. You look at them and wonder if he could pin you against the wall and take your weight while he slides deep inside of you. Well, hopefully, not everyone thinks that, but when I look at them, that’s what I think, that’s what I imagine and the image…is hot. Still, like I said, I’m on a careful mountain of lies and sleeping with Aden is not allowed. I can’t do that. I can’t give myself to him, knowing that soon it will all be ripped away and he’ll go back to being the asshole who hates me, and likely the asshole who destroys my entire life and I’ll be… here.
Alone. Destroyed.
“It looks like you’re getting naked!”
“Babe,” he says, shaking his head. Probably doing this because I have the sheet pulled so high it’s up to my neck and I’m threatening to hide under the covers. “Do I look naked?” he asks, smiling down at me.
“I like it better when you call me honey,” I grumble, and I do for the most part. Probably because when he calls me honey, he’s being sweet and when he calls me babe he’s definitely being bossy. A bossy I like, but a bossy that also reminds me of the old Aden, which in turn, reminds me that I’m a liar and a horrible person, much worse than even the old Aden was, which in turn makes me miserable. There’s a bunch of twisty-turns and all of them… are yucky.
I’m learning that life is a vicious cycle when you’re a lying witch.
He climbs in bed with me and I have to admit he’s not naked. He’s wearing briefs, but he’s naked everywhere else and I’m nearing panic mode as he settles against the pillow.
“Relax,” he prompts, turning on his side to look at me.
“I thought you were sleeping on the couch?” I whisper, licking my lips because suddenly my throat is dry.
“I was. Now I’m not. Now I’m sleeping beside my woman.”
“Your… woman?”
“I understand that our relationship wasn’t much to begin with Hope. I get that it was largely my fault.”
“It was all your fault really. Aden, I hate to tell you this, but you can be a real bastard when you want to be,” I whisper. The truth is, at this point I like to remind myself of what an asshole he was. It makes me feel marginally better about lying.
“Thanks for your honesty,” he laughs, not realizing he just struck a major blow. A blow that hits so deep my body jerks, slightly. “Be honest with me now, too. Can you do that?” he asks, his face going soft and serious. His hand reaches out to my chin and his fingers caress my face.
“I can try,” I whisper, praying I can be honest with him, because this moment seems important.
“Do you like having me in your life? Especially this last week?”
“Absolutely,” I tell him, not even thinking about it.
