AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shake my head. “I need to finish up here and then get home. It’s late.”
“Or early,” he replies with a smirk. That smirk used to make me weak at the knees. Why doesn’t it work anymore?
“Take him into room six,” Frost calls, pointing to one of the doors that lead off from the main bar area before I can say anything else. I don’t remember where they all lead. “It’s private enough for talking.”
Great. I give Frost a tight smile wondering how the hell I can get out of this. But as Frost loses patience with me and snaps, “Just go, Bambi”, I realise I don’t have much choice.
I lead Aiden to the door Frost has indicated, carefully trying to stay a couple of steps ahead to prevent him from touching me. The corridor beyond is dimly lit, with spotlights illuminating each door on our right so that the brass numbers can be read.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door to room six and step inside.
Aiden follows and the latch clicks softly into place behind us. At least, I hope it’s the latch. Fucker better not have locked us in.
The room is large, with a four poster king-sized bed protruding from the middle of one wall, and a small table with two chairs at the foot of it opposite an open fire which is currently lit. There’s a Christmas tree in one corner of the room and a large gilt mirror on the wall opposite the door.
I take a seat in one of the chairs, praying that this conversation will be quick and painless.
Aiden, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. He takes his time exploring the room, opening the drawers in the dark-wood bedside tables and examining the mirror before he sits down opposite me and leans back.
He studies me intently for a minute, and ants crawl on my skin. It has to just be the events of tonight that have me rattled. Aiden has never been one of my demons. Not like Royce. The only demon surrounding Aiden and me was my own regret.
Taking a deep breath, he begins, “You know, I always wondered what happened to you.” His voice is low and seductive. Warm, familiar, cajoling. “After we broke up, I mean.”
My heart sinks. I don’t want to talk about our past, not now, not ever. Besides, it’s not like I vanished, I’m his sister’s best friend. He just treated me like I was invisible.
“That was a long time ago, Aiden,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.
“I know, but I’ve never forgotten about you,” he says, his dark eyes locked on mine. “I’ve always wondered if you were happy, if you found someone better than me.”
I laugh bitterly. “You left me, remember?” Not to mention painting me as the bad guy with his family and Elle.
“Like you said, that was a long time ago. We’re both different people now.”
I consider his words. Are we different? Aiden is still as cocksure as ever. In fact, more so. More successful, more handsome, more arrogant…just more everything. But is hedifferent? I’m still as poor, still as lost, still as much of a fuck-up as I was before. And he’s still way out of my league. But the only difference is that knowing that, somehow doesn’t tear me apart any more. I don’t think I’m so different.
“You’re married,” I state flatly at the same time as Aiden says, “I want you back.” Like I’m a lost possession or something.
I laugh humorlessly and shake my head.
“You were always the one that got away,” he says in a low tone. His words mirror the thoughts of him that I’ve always had, until tonight.
Now, I realise, he holds no power over me. He’s simply an ex-boyfriend, a mistake that wasn’t meant to be, and my best friend’s brother. He wasn’t my one great love, or the one who got away. He was simply a mark on my page, a paragraph at most, but there’s still a whole book for me to write.
Would I have felt this way if I’d seen Aiden here last night? Or is it because tonight has been so momentous for me in more ways than one that my stance has changed?
I don’t know, and I’m not sure it matters. All that matters is how I feel right now, and in this exact moment, I have no qualms turning Aiden down. And it’s not from some petty sense of revenge, I just don’t want him anymore.
“Aiden, you’re married,” I remind him again as his gaze becomes desperate.
He shakes his head. “I’m not.”
“What?” I shake my head. Elle would have told me if he and his wife had split up.
“Well, I am. Technically. But we’re separated. Just keeping up appearances for the sake of the kids.”
I stare at him, disbelieving. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” he says, leaning forward. “I swear it. We’ve been separated for over a year now. We’re just not ready to make it official yet.”
