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aiden
I feltlike I was coming out of my skin.
My knee bounced impatiently as I glanced at my phone. We’d been home for a freaking week. Seven damn days! And nothing from Gem.
Not a goddamn word, call, or text.
Shit, I would have taken a damn email or goddamn smoke signal by now.
But I knew what her schedule was going to be like when we returned home.Home. I looked round my apartment located above my mom’s restaurant and sighed. Tossing myself back, I lay on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. She had not been wrong.
We’d fucked up when it came to our return dates.
Preparing for Thanksgiving was crazy on a normal basis, but bring in the fact my mom suddenly thought I needed to be attached to her side at the diner downstairs and needed my help at every turn, it had been impossible to get away and try to see Gem before she had to leave to visit her sister Sara and her man, Marshall.
I missed her.
I missed the softness of her hand when it brushed against mine. I missed the feel of her relaxed body next to mine while she slept. I missed her smells and sounds and voice.
I missed it all.
But by the looks of it, Gemma didn’t miss me at all.
Not that I’d reached out.
We’d celebrated Thanksgiving, and now I was waiting on my brother to pop in so we could start hanging lights outside the restaurant. All I wanted to do was go and park outside Gem’s small home and wait for her to get back. Which, according to her Insta stories, she’d done the night before.
And still hadn’t called.
Why wasn’t she calling? Did she regret what we’d done? Was she done with me?
Yet I couldn’t get myself to call her.
Her last words to me before we’d landed… fuck. Why had it felt like she was saying goodbye? Why the hell was I just sitting around and letting her slip through my fingers? I sat up just as my front door opened.
Jayden walked in, already bitching about the lack of parking outside. Didn’t he get that a full lot meant Mom was in the black when it came to the diner?
“Why do you look like that?” he asked, stopping in his tracks when our eyes connected. Where mine were dark brown, his were light blue. We were different. Except for our height and build, we were polar opposites. I was dark to his fair.
“Like what?” I grumbled, standing up and scratching the top of my head.
“Like that! All…”—he made a face—“wrinkled.”
“Wrinkled?” My brother was an idiot.
“Have you even showered since Thursday?” He made a face. “Was that the shirt you wore?”
“Two days ago, asshole. Not like it’s been a week. Jesus.”
“You know, there are these machines. You toss your dirty laundry in, and it cleans it for you,” he teased as he plopped his ass down on the recliner.
“Jayden,” I sighed.
“Aiden.” He mimicked my deep tone. “Go shower and change,” he ordered, as if we were still kids.
“Why?” I argued. “I’m going to get sweaty putting up the fucking lights, and you know Mom’s going to be on our asses about decorating.”
“And?”
