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“I heard you were working at this club, so I had to see for myself,” Aiden says, grinning at me. “And I have to say, you look even more beautiful than I remember.”
The blood rushes to my cheeks as I try to ignore the compliment. Thank god I’m fully dressed tonight. I couldn’t handle meeting him dressed in lingerie and feeling vulnerable.
I try to keep the bright smile in place, but it’s a little strained at the edges now.
Aiden looks good. Damn good. Better than he has any right to after breaking my heart. Maybe I fucked up a good thing with him, but he hurt me so bad I’ve never quite gotten over him.
“You’re a member here?” I ask in disbelief.
Aiden’s grin gets even wider but he doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t need to. If he’s here tonight, he’s a member. But the question is, is he aregular?
Is Aiden into…all of this?
When we were together, we never…experimented.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level to hide my shock at seeing him.
“A vodka tonic, please,” Aiden says, his eyes never leaving mine.
I quickly make his drink and pass it over, wanting nothing more than for him to leave and never come back. But as he takes a sip, he leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear.
“I can’t wait to see what you’re like in bed now,” he whispers, his hand trailing up my arm.
I pull away, my eyes flashing with anger. “I’m working.”
Where did those words even come from? That isnotwhat I meant to say. How dare he assume that after all this time I’ll just fall into bed with him? He’s fucking married with children for fuck’s sake!
He just laughs and takes another sip of his drink.
“You need to pay for that,” I tell him when he goes to walk away. I quickly tap the screen that’s set into the top of the bar and select his drink option.
As Aiden reaches into his pocket, I take in his appearance – the expensive suit, the designer shoes, the almost overpowering cologne wafting off him. He seems like the type of guy who thinks he can buy anything he wants with his money, including me. But I refuse to be one of his possessions. How is that seeing him here has brought all of his worst qualities rushing back, when before I only ever saw him through rose-tinted glasses?
He slides a few bills my way, but I shake my head and gesture to the screen. “It’s all electronic,” I say, my voice cold. Obviously, he’s not a regular then. Does that mean he got membership just to see me?
I shake that thought away. It’s absurd. He’s married. Why would he bother? He’d only have to speak to Elle to get back in touch with me.
He shrugs and saunters off, leaving me seething behind the bar. I can’t stand guys like him – entitled, arrogant, and full of themselves. Was he always like that? He was certainly controlling, demanding. Everything always had to be his way, on his terms, but back when I was younger I just thought he was looking out for me – older, wiser, richer. Now I’m not so sure.
I don’t like the way he looked at me tonight.
As the night wears on, I keep an eye on him from across the bar, watching as he chats up a few women. Frost serves him two drinks which he pays for with his wrist band, winking at me when he sees I’m watching him. Dick. Should I tell Frost he’s exceeded the two-drink rule? I certainly smelt alcohol on his breath as I gave him his first drink. Maybe he was drinking before he got here? Can management do anything about that?
A loud laugh goes up and my gaze is drawn to the source of the sound. Aiden has three blondes hanging on his every word, all looking rapt. It’s like he’s trying to make me jealous, but all it does is make me feel even more disgusted. Where’s his wife?
I focus on my work and try to forget about him, but every so often I catch myself glancing over at him again. I wonder what he’s saying to those women, what he’s promising them. Is he like this with everyone? Does he ever genuinely care about anyone other than himself?
As the night wears on, the bar empties out, and I finally finish cleaning up. I’m ready to go home, but before I can leave, Aiden approaches me once more.
“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks, his tone softening slightly.
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I can manage on my own.”
No need to tell him I can barely afford the bus home, let alone a car of my own. He always thought I was a fuck up.
He looks a little disappointed, but is it genuine?
“Can we go somewhere to talk?”
