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I didn’t, however, intend to pass out on the couch long before he showed up.
I don’t know what time it is when I come to, woken by the sound of hissed cursing and something hitting the counter in the kitchen. I blink in the darkness as I lift my head sleepily, noticing a glow from the vent hood of the oven offering only a little light. The sight there immediately rouses me from my half-asleep state, going completely still when I notice that, for some reason—Aiden is standing shirtless in the kitchen.
It takes me a moment to piece together what I’m seeing: Aiden holding what I assume is his shirt in his hand as he uses it to mop up something from the counter. There’s a beer can sitting nearby that I can just make out, and I reason that he must have spilled some and decided his shirt was the best bet in cleaning it up. Not the most sensible course of action, I think, but who am I to judge? Iknow I should say something, that I should do something to make him aware of the fact that I’m frozen on his couch in the dark living room, but I’m finding it a lot more difficult than it should be.
Especially since I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his shirtless state.
I can only see him from the chest up from this side of the counter, but what I can see suggests that all those trips to the gym have... really paid off. Aiden looks firm in all the right places, eliciting an urge to touch the hard lines and cut ridges in a way that isabsolutelynot appropriate for someone looking at their employer. Not that anyone would blame me, I think, if they were seeing what I’m seeing. Aiden says another filthy word in that same quiet voice that had woken me up, and everything about it makes me feel things that are also wholly inappropriate.
It isn’t fair that he is so good-looking. Paired with the fact that he’s sweet and funny and doing his best as a single dad... my ovaries are forming their own fan club at this point.
I know the longer I sit here the more awkward it will be when he finally notices me, and despite the urge to quietly watch him until he escapes upstairs, I know I waited up for him for a reason.
“Aiden?”
He startles, face whipping up to peer into the living room, shirt still clutched tightly in his hand. “Cassie?”
“Sorry,” I offer, pushing up from the couch to a sitting position. “I fell asleep on the couch.”
“Oh. That’s...” He looks down at himself as if remembering that he’s half-naked, standing up straighter and bringing what I assume is a wet shirt to his chest to offer some coverage. Not that it helps. “I spilled my drink.”
“Yeah. I can see that.”
“I should... get another shirt. Sorry if I woke you up.”
“Aiden, wait.”
He stops midstep, still behind the counter as he watches me slide off the couch. I pull my robe tighter as I approach the kitchen, thinking that at leastoneof us won’t be exposing ourselves to the other tonight.
“I actually wanted to talk to you,” I start. “That’s why I was waiting on the couch.”
I have no idea how I will be able to have this conversation when I can see Aiden’s nipples.
How the tables have turned,I think idly.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s about Sophie.”
He immediately looks concerned. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”
“She’s fine, don’t worry,” I assure him. “It’s just... she’s been talking. About how much she misses you when you aren’t here.”
I see his expression fall immediately, almost making me regret my decision to talk to him. “Oh.”
“I don’t even know if it’s my place to say any of this, but it hurts my heart hearing how much she misses you.”
“No, I’m glad you told me, but I don’t know how I can change it right now. I told you that we had a lot of things going on at the restaurant.”
“I know,” I press. “But it really seems to be taking a toll on her.”
“Well. I did tell you that my job was a nightmare sometimes.”
“And I totally get that,” I say carefully. “But... lately, even on the weekend when she’s here all day, you’ve been shipping off to the restaurant practically right after breakfast. If not earlier.”
“It’s not something I can exactly control,” he says wearily. “It’s my job. I can’t just say, ‘Piss off,’ to it.”
“I’m not trying to lecture you,” I assure him. “I’m just worried about her. I can tell she doesn’t like to talk about her mother, but... when you’re not here, it makes Sophie miss her more.”
