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“Not really,” he raises his hands in protest. “Honest. We just happen to be walking in the same direction.”
For the last week, Aaron Steel has been pestering me. He obviously didn't get the hint after I told him off when he tried to charm me while I was at work. He thinks he’s being sly, but I can tell he’s still trying to hang around me. At the library, the coffee house, even when I’m just walking around campus like I am right now.
“Leave me alone,” I snap at him.
“Come on, Emily,” he says. “Look, it’s really not a big campus. Coincidences happen. Sometimes you run into people like that. Would it kill you to talk to me?”
“How many different ways can I say I'm not interested?”
“I don't know. The list is probably endless.”
I have to bite back the smile that starts to creep across my face. The last thing I want to do is encourage him. I've known guys like Aaron my entire life. Spoiled. Entitled. Little rich boys who thought the world owed them something. Guys like Aaron think they can say or do whatever they want, and people should just bow down and give in to them. I know his type.
Yes, I grew up privileged, I won’t say I didn't. I went to a posh prep school just like I'm sure Aaron did. And I know this school caters to upper-class families with ties to elite private schools. I'm not going to sit here and pretend I don't come from a well-off family.
I'm not like some of these spoiled brats, though. I believe in hard work. I don't expect to have the world handed to me on a silver platter. I've never thought the world owes me something, or that I'm somehow better than anybody else. I don't expect people to cater to my every want and whim.
I was lucky enough to have a few good teachers back in high school who’d instilled a good work ethic in me. I don't know why their message resonated with me and not some of my other classmates, but I'm glad it did. They helped keep me focused on my education and setting goals. And while all of my classmates were out there drinking and screwing each other's brains out, I was working hard.
Oh, they tried to tempt me. Tried to shame me into going out to party with them. More than a few of my male classmates tried to pressure me into sleeping with them. Tried to make me feel like I owed it to them or something, just because of who their family is.
It's that sense of entitlement that's always irritated me. And I see that sort of arrogance in Aaron and his friends. They think because they come from rich families and show an interest in me that I should be thankful and drop my panties for them.
“Look, I just want to get to know you if we keep running into each other like this,” he keeps going at me. “I’m sorry for bothering you at work. What did I ever do to piss you off so bad, Emily?”
I appreciate his apology, but it’s not like I can tell him that. He hasn’t done anything to me personally, but spoiled rich boys are the same all over – why would Aaron be any different? And knowing that, why should I even give him the time of day?
“I just don't like your – type,” I respond.
I quicken my pace, but his legs are longer and he's able to match me stride for stride. I'm not going to be able to get away from him.
“My type? What in the hell does that even mean? I don’t –”
I round on him, anger surging within me. “It means I want you to leave me the hell alone!”
I turn and walk away from him. Remarkably, Aaron doesn't follow me. I know I should feel bad. He's never done anything to me personally and yet, I despise him all the same. I hate what he symbolizes to me. I hate their arrogance and sense of entitlement.
I came to New York for a fresh start, my education, and the chance to meet some new people. Make new friends. But given the quality of the people I've met since arriving – the guys especially – I may as well have stayed in California.
They are the last thing I want or need in my life.
* * * * *
“Aaron – Steel,” I say, still stunned by his sudden appearance.
“Emily Hall,” he replies. “It's been a long time.”
He stands before me and looks like he hasn't aged a day. My heart is thundering, my throat is dry, and I'm trembling.
“It's good to see you again, Emily.”
“Yeah – you too.”
But is it good to see him again? I mean, is it really?
Chapter Nine
Aaron
