by Grey, R. S.
Did we get absolutely nowhere last night?
How rude do I have to be before he catches the hint that I want nothing to do with him and his glorious body?
Aiden glances at Brent in the chair beside me, as if just now realizing he’s there.
“Morning, Brent. Sleep well?”
Brent glances at me with uncertainty before nodding slowly. “Uh…yeah. Thanks.”
“That’s great to hear. I’ve slept with Maddie before, and she can be quite the blanket hog. Good at cuddling though.”
My eyes flare.
“Slept in a bed with me!” I exclaim in outrage, ensuring everyone in the room gets the facts straight. “You didn’t sleep with me.”
Aiden smiles. “Right.”
“Also, I never cuddled you!”
Aiden frowns, thinking it over. “Didn’t you?”
I flip through memories at warp speed, trying to remember what we did back in that bed in the desert bungalow. Did I cuddle him? GASP. What if I did or said things in my sleep that I don’t remember?
Before I can process what to say next, Aiden turns and walks to the stove to load up his plate with food.
Brent leans in toward me. “Is everything okay?”
No! Everything is not okay, Brent!
My plan is backfiring. Aiden has the upper hand, and I can’t figure out how he’s managing it.
I was supposed to be in control this week. I was supposed to catch him off guard with my hunky boyfriend and convince him he made a huge mistake leaving me behind in Austin and jetting off to parts unknown.
What happened in the kitchen last night caught me off guard.
Aiden came on to me.
He touched me in ways he never has before—well…okay, other than that isolated incident by the pool.
My heart races just thinking about how it felt having him crowd in behind me and press me against the kitchen counter.
None of this makes sense.
I glance up as Aiden sits across from me at the table.
I want to leap out of my chair, grab his collar, and demand he give me answers.
What are you playing at, Aiden Smith?
What’s your end goal? To have a little fun with me on vacation? Get a good story to tell your buddies back in New York?
All of a sudden, I can’t sit through breakfast. I stand, my chair screeching against the wood floor, and I walk around the table until I’m right by Aiden’s side. He spoons a bite of eggs into his mouth then lets his gaze slowly glide up to me. Pure innocence personified.
“Can we talk for a second?”
I don’t even sugarcoat my tone. I want him to know I’m serious. Not someone to be trifled with.
“My eggs are going to get cold,” he points out.
“They’ll keep. Come on.”
I don’t wait for him to agree. I head in the direction of the bedroom I’m sharing with Brent, knowing he’ll come. Aiden’s shadow follows behind me, and once we’re in the room, I reach around him and shut the door.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” I snap, pointing my finger at him. “What happened last night cannot happen again.”
“Right.”
“No more taunting me at the breakfast table in front of everyone. No more touching me like you did last night. I’m with Brent.”
He smirks. “Of course you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?”
“I don’t know, Maddie. You tell me.”
He steps closer, crowding me again. What is it with him?! Does he have to stand so close? He’s too tall. Too big. I hold my hands out to keep him at a safe distance, and my palms flatten against his chest.
His green eyes pierce me.
“Did the two of you have sex last night?”
I flush. “Not your business.”
“Have the two of you ever had sex?”
“Of course! Tons!”
He darts his hand out, quick as lightning, and hooks it around the back of my neck. Not so hard that I flinch, but hard enough that I can’t look away.
“I’ve discovered your little secret, Maddie Lane.”
My heart sinks.
No.
Not possible.
“I know what you’re playing at. I know Brent isn’t your boyfriend. I know you’re up to your old tricks. What is it with you and fake boyfriends?”
I gulp, trying not to cry.
How did he figure it out? How does he know the truth?
“Who is Brent?”
My lip quivers.
“My boyfriend,” I say, trying in vain to keep the false pretense alive.
He steps toward me, never releasing my neck, our bodies molding together. Then he leans down and I smell the sweat from his run mixed with the remnants of his body wash. “You don’t have a boyfriend.”
He says it like he’s slicing me with a sword, and the wound he inflicts is all too real.
“So again…Maddie…who is Brent?”
I yank my neck out of his hold and look away. He sighs and lets his head fall so his forehead rests against my hair. He inhales, and it’s like he’s taking the first deep breath he’s had in years.
“I shouldn’t have left you,” he whispers.
My eyes squeeze shut.
These are the words I’ve wanted to hear. They’re the words I imagined during so many lonely nights.
But they’re just…words.
They don’t change the past. They don’t repair the damage that’s already been done.
I turn away from Aiden and walk back out into the hallway, wishing I could lock him up in that room and throw away the key.
* * *
“I think it’s best if I go.”
“What?! No. C’mon, we’ll have fun!”
“Sweetie, no offense, but…I’m getting in the way.”
Brent and I are in our room, and he’s packing his bag, preparing to catch an early flight back to Texas.
The jig is up, apparently.
And yes, I know. It was a stupid ruse to begin with, but it’s worked for me in the past so I figured one last time couldn’t hurt. The ol’ fake boyfriend trick was just what I needed to really stick it to Aiden and make him squirm. And maybe it would have worked! But I didn’t pick the right fake boyfriend. In the past, it worked so well when Aiden and I pretended to date because deep down I desperately wanted to date Aiden. I didn’t have to fake those feelings. My Oscar-winning performance wasn’t a performance at all.
But with Brent, it hasn’t been so easy.
He’s Dante’s partner and my good friend. Not only is he in a committed relationship, he’s also not at all attracted to me. Our chemistry was never there, hence why Aiden was so quick to see through my lie.
But I’m not ready to throw in the towel.
Even if Brent can’t play the role of my boyfriend anymore, he can still be a buffer!
Brent stuffs a few more clothes into his bag and I lean forward, grabbing his forearm in desperation. “What if I book us a spa day at the Four Seasons?! On me!”
He stops folding a shirt for a second to contemplate this. Then, coming to his senses, he shakes his head. “No. I want to be with Dante for Christmas, and besides, it’s over. He knows we’re not really dating!”
“But how will I survive without you?”
I’ve resorted to pouting now.
He reaches out to rub my shoulder. “You don’t need me. I mean…what I walked into last night was pretty telling of that.”
I let go of him and turn to flop my body down onto the bed dramatically. My face is pressed against the comforter when I respond so my words come out muffled. “That was not what you think it was.”
“What?”
“I said, that was not what you think it was!”
He laughs sarcastically. “Uhhh…looked pretty spicy to me. The guy was all over you.”
I cover my ears in hopes that he’ll stop talking.
“I wish I hadn’t interrupted. Who knows where it would have gone.�
�� His tone is mighty suggestive, and panic spikes my blood.
Oh my god.
Where would it have gone?!
“I’m missing the part about why this is so bad,” he says, forcing me to roll over and face him.
I stare up at the ceiling, my hands on my belly. I can feel my pulse even there, racing and racing and racing.
“It’s just…not part of the plan.”
“So then screw the plan and go with the flow.”
“Easy for you to say! You don’t know what it was like to be in love with him for two years and feel like that love was unrequited. He left me and moved to New York City and now he shows up here and decides he wants to have a little holiday fling with me?! Over my dead body.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Make him weep tears of regret.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“No one said I was healthy.”
“Yes, we’re all clear on that. Healthy adult women don’t pretend to have fake boyfriends.”
“Yeah, well…no regrets. I’m only upset it didn’t work out.”
He shrugs. “Well, at least I was found out before things got too complicated. Can you imagine if we’d had to kiss or something?”
“Would it have been so bad?” I tease.
He audibly gags.
“Nice. Thank you for that.”
“It’s not you,” he rushes to clarify. “Believe me. I mean, ask Aiden—he seemed very interested in kissing you last night.”
“Okay! Okay! No more! Run home to your perfect relationship and leave me in peace.”
He leans down to kiss my hair. “You’ll figure it out, Maddie.”
Will I?
I’m glad one of us is confident about that.
Chapter Sixteen
Aiden
Tick tock.
I glance up at the clock again, aware of every second that passes, or so it seems.
Maddie used James’ truck to drive Brent to the airport. She’s been gone all afternoon, and she should have returned by now.
I’m at a restaurant by myself, picking my way through a bread basket. The staff feel bad for me. One of them—a short blonde—has offered to bring me something to drink other than water, but I don’t want to get even remotely inebriated before Maddie shows up. It’s best to have my wits about me where she’s concerned.
“So you’re from New York?” the waitress asks.
She’s been by my table three times in the last ten minutes. At first it was just to be polite. Now I think she wishes I’d ask her when her shift ends.
“Yeah. I moved there last year.”
“That’s awesome. I’ve never been, but I’d love to visit. Especially now—I bet it’s magical around the holidays.”
I nod and glance around her shoulder, toward the door, trying to spot Maddie.
Still nothing.
“Friend still not here?” she asks with a sad smile.
“Not yet.”
I pick up another piece of focaccia and drag it through the olive oil and herb dip, trying to distract myself.
The door opens and I straighten.
Maddie’s stepping inside, shaking the snow off her hair before untying her scarf and slipping her jacket off. She passes them to the waiting host who then waves her into the dining room, right toward me.
She stills when she glances in my direction. Her gaze takes in the intimate table set for two positioned in the back corner. There’s a candle and roses and…me.
I’ve technically played a trick on her.
This was supposed to be a family dinner with James, Jolie, and Ford in tow, but as we were getting ready to leave, Ford was being fussy and Jolie opted to just stay home and order in. I told them I’d let Maddie know, but I didn’t.
She narrows her eyes as she starts toward me.
The waitress beside me is forgotten. The world is forgotten. I stand up and smile.
Maddie doesn’t return it.
She comes right up to the table, eyes narrowed, and doesn’t say a word.
“You’re late,” I say with a teasing tone.
“And you’re three short.”
“They stayed back at the house.” She makes a move to turn and head back toward the door, but I reach out my hand to stop her, gripping her arm. “You’re already here.”
Her eyes dart past me, toward the table, lingering on the bread basket.
Aha.
“And you’re hungry,” I venture. “Stay and eat with me.”
She glances at the waitress, who’s still hovering near us, watching this entire scene.
“What would you like to drink?” I ask, not giving Maddie the chance to bow out graciously.
“Something with alcohol in it, preferably,” she says, reluctantly easing her mask of annoyance and shooting the waitress a small smile.
“Our house cocktails are good,” the waitress notes. “I’ll put one in for you.”
“Make it two, please,” I say, tugging out Maddie’s chair for her.
The waitress leaves and we’re alone now, me holding the back of the chair, Maddie lingering, purposely not sitting down.
“I don’t bite,” I mock.
She flushes and brushes past me to sit down brusquely, and I push her chair toward the table, nice and tight, just to make it that much harder for her to get up if she feels like bolting.
Then, because this is just so ridiculous, I reach forward to take her folded napkin off the table and whip it open.
“Should I tuck it into your shirt collar?”
She doesn’t laugh.
She yanks it out of my hand and drops it on her lap.
“You tricked me into having dinner with you,” she points out as I round the table to take my seat again.
“So then we’re even, I suppose.”
She looks away as if embarrassed.
“Why’d you bring Brent here? Was it because of me?”
She keeps her gaze on something across the restaurant and her hands stay in her lap, fidgeting with her napkin.
“Maddie—”
“If you want me to stay, let’s talk about something else.”
“Touchy. Here, have some bread.”
I drop a slice onto a small plate and set it down in front of her. Then I nudge the olive oil dip toward her.
She assesses it for a long time.
“I didn’t poison it.”
Her eyes flit up to meet mine, and I know deep down she wants to crack a smile, something. This hard shell isn’t her usual M.O. Maddie is fun-loving. She’s a life force unlike any other. I want that back. I want the real Maddie sitting across from me in this restaurant.
The lights overhead suddenly dim, announcing the transition from early to late evening. The candle on the table flickers between us, and Maddie’s eyes reflect the spark.
I just can’t help myself. I can’t sit across from her and shoot the shit. There are questions I’m burning up about.
“Do you ever think about that night by the pool?”
Her chair screeches as she stands.
“I can’t do this,” she says quietly, scooting around her chair and hurrying toward the door.
Fuck.
I reach into my wallet and grab some cash, throwing it down so we don’t leave the waitress on the hook for our drinks. Then I’m dashing after her through the restaurant, causing a ruckus.
Maddie doesn’t wait to get her scarf and jacket back from the host, just bolts right out of the restaurant, into the snowy Colorado night.
I’m the one who has to hang back and get our stuff. She’ll freeze out there, but the host takes forever finding our things. At first, I don’t think he wants to hand me Maddie’s stuff.
“She’s my best friend. I’ll make sure she gets it,” I explain, trying to convince him that I’m not just trying to steal her belongings.
But as I leave the restaurant and bundle up into my jacket, I realize that’s not quite the truth anymore. Maddie and I
aren’t best friends. In fact, we’re not…anything at all anymore.
I turn left and right, wondering where she could have gone.
James’ truck is still parked behind the restaurant, so she didn’t take it back to the house. I stuff my hands into my pockets and start walking on the manicured path toward the center of Vail Village. Iron streetlamps illuminate the night. Families are everywhere. It’s the night before Christmas Eve, and the street is covered with wreaths and ornaments and twinkling lights. I keep wandering aimlessly, trying to track Maddie to no avail, and then I stumble upon a large ice-skating rink up ahead.
I see her leaning against the side wall, watching the kids on the ice.
There’s a little girl who’s captured her attention. She’s all on her own, confident and graceful as she spins on her skates. She can’t be older than seven or eight, but she looks like a little Olympian in the making.
Maddie doesn’t take her eyes off the child as I approach. I drop her jacket on the edge of the wall beside her.
She doesn’t look up at me, and she doesn’t move to take the jacket.
With the heaters placed around the ice rink, maybe she’s not too cold.
We stand side by side, watching.
The skater arcs her hands above her head like a ballerina as she spins, and then she glides right past us, close enough to touch. I peer over to see Maddie smile as a lone tear slides down her cheek.
She sniffles and looks down at her hands.
“I’m embarrassed,” she says quietly.
Her confession catches me off guard. I don’t respond, scared to break the spell.
“The Brent thing was dumb. I just…couldn’t bear the thought of coming here and seeing you on my own.”
I watch her swallow, focusing on her delicate neck under the glow of holiday lights.
“Am I that bad?” I tease.
She laughs and sniffles again, reaching up to wipe her nose.
I know there are a million things I need to say to her, but after what happened in the restaurant, I keep my mouth shut. If I want to keep Maddie with me, I’ll have to play by her rules, and right now, that means standing here and watching the skaters in silence.
I pick up her jacket and open it for her so she can slip her arms into the sleeves. Then she zips it up and reaches for her scarf. Once she’s bundled, we lean on the wall, shoulder to shoulder, and we watch.
