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His words landed like lead in my stomach. All this time, we’d been so concerned about how my parents would react–particularly my dad–that I hadn’t even thought about his mom. “You think she won’t like me?”
Aiden shook his head. “No, she’ll love you. But she’ll think I’m too old for you.” His tone was self-deprecating. “She won’t be wrong.”
“She won’t be right, either,” I said hotly. I was sick of thinking about what other people would think of Aiden and me. Plenty of women married men much older than themselves. And the trend was reversing, too. But as bad as it was worrying about other people, I hadn’t had to worry about whatAidenthought in a while. Now though, I wondered. “Does the age gap bother you?” I asked suddenly.
He shook his head. “I don’t think about it anymore.”
“Good, me either.”
“But other people will.” Aiden held up a hand, stemming the indignant flow of words he could see forming on the tip of my tongue. “And I don’t care about most other people. But my mom’s opinion–and your dad’s opinion–you can’t expect me not to care about them.”
I didn’t like it, but I knew he was right. I sighed, looking around at all the other couples. My gaze caught on the engagement ring of the woman at the next table. For the first time since Christian’s ill-fated proposal, I felt something other than embarrassment, guilt, and relief at the sight of a diamond. Instead, I felt a tug of longing. It wasn’t that I wanted Aiden to propose–well, maybe I did, but I wasn’t even ready to think about that yet–but I envied this woman’s ability to wear her commitment on her finger. I was committed to Aiden, body, heart, and soul, but no one could know.
“It’s strange,” I murmured, still looking at that ring. I slipped my foot between his. “Sometimes I think it’s fun, having you as my secret.”
Aiden’s eyes smoldered and he reached under the table to squeeze my calf. “I know what you mean.”
“But other times…” I pulled my foot back.
“I know what you mean there, too,” Aiden said quietly. “It won’t be like this forever, Layla. I love you. One day, everyone will know.”
“I love you, too.” Unwillingly, I thought of the scores of women who had fallen for theI love you, but we have to keep this thing a secret for a little while, okay?line. I’d always wondered how they could be so stupid. If a man had to hide you, he wasn’t reallyyours. But Aiden upended everything. Now I could easily see myself becoming one of those women.
But I thought he loved me.
I was so lost in the downward spiral of my thoughts that I nearly missed what he said next. “I’ll figure something out. Soon.”
And maybe it made me a fool, but I believed him.
I loved him too much not to.
CHAPTER24
AIDEN
Ihad to tell Jack. I could tell the secrecy was beginning to gnaw at Layla. She was right–there was a point when it had been fun. Clandestine. Now I just wanted to be able to take her out to dinner on our side of town without fear of who we might run into. I wanted to think about our future together without the threat of Jack’s reaction overshadowing it.
The problem was, I didn’t know how. The other problem was, the person I normally would have asked for advice was Jack himself. Maureen was my back up, but I couldn’t go to her either. So that was why I found myself telling Carl, my mentee, about it.
I don’t know how it came up. It sure as hell wasn’t like he asked,hey man, how’s your love life?
Strangely, Carl listened. When I was done, he said, “That’s a real fucking pickle, rich man. What are you going to do about it?” His voice was its usual mixture of disdain and sarcasm, but I sensed that he was genuinely interested.
“Hell if I know,” I muttered. I was already regretting telling him. I was supposed to be his mentor, for fucks sake, and here I was telling him about how badly I was currently fucking up my own supposedly reformed life. By betraying the person who had beenmymentor.
“I think you should get it over with,” Carl said frankly. He shoved a French fry in his mouth and stretched out his foot to admire his new shoes. He had kept up his end of our bargain and passed all his classes in the first quarter.
“So I can get my ass handed to me sooner?”
Carl snickered. “Yeah.” He ate another fry. “But seriously, it’s only going to get worse the longer you put it off, right? Isn’t that what you’d tell me?”
“That’s exactly what I’d tell you.” I ate a fry, too, but I barely tasted it. The thought of telling Jack turned everything to sawdust.
“And you said her brother knows?” Carl shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s a potential snitch, man. You want him to find out through someoneelse?”
“Bran isn’t a snitch,” I countered.
“Everyone’s a snitch, in the right circumstances.” Carl said darkly. Then almost as an afterthought, “Or maybe he’ll just slip up. Same end result. Your face turned into raw hamburger meat.”
