Page 30 of Secret Santa

I didn’t know where my bra was and didn’t want to run into Aiden without it. Even though he’d already seen…everything, I still felt weird being braless.

I groaned. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. I couldn’t believe what I let him do.

I’d never had a man do the things he did to me–say the things he said to me. I had never, ever touched myself in front of anyone. I was still in shock that Aiden had somehow managed to get me to lower my guard enough to do that.

Hesitantly, I pulled open the door and poked my head into the hallway. He was nowhere to be seen. A strange mix of panic and disappointment bloomed in my chest. Where was he? Why wasn’t he beside me?

I shook my head. That was ridiculous. I needed to try to not get attached, but it was hard.

Since the hospital, every decision I made had been the most unlike-me decisions ever. It had to be Aiden. He made me go stupid…or maybe he just made me feel safe, safe enough to do anything, say anything, and know he won’t ridicule me for it.

Still, even though he wouldn’t ridicule me, it didn’t mean he wouldn't leave.

Every time I tried to push back against that thought, all I heard was my mother’s voice sneering at me. I heard her telling me how unlovable and dramatic I was, how no one would ever want to put up with someone like me, someone who was too much work. Someone difficult.

I didn’t know where I was going; I just followed the hall to the staircase and walked down. The entire house was quiet; most of the curtains were drawn, but the faint smell of coffee filled the air.

I made it to the ground floor and looked around. I didn’t know my way around, but I knew how to get to the kitchen and the living room. Everything else was a labyrinth I wasn’t sure I wanted to explore.

I went left, unsure of where it would lead me. There was a door at the end of the hall, cracked slightly with a light on, so I assumed that’s where I’d find him. I trailed my fingertips along the white wall, my heart beating faster and faster with each step.

Finally, I stood at the door. The typing was loud, and guilt twisted my stomach. He was working. I barely shifted my head, peeking into the room, and found him still in his sweats, his hair a mess. He looked so unlike himself, so unpolished, but still so perfect. I couldn’t look away.

His brows were pinched as he stared at the screen. I took the moment to just watch him–the firm set of his shoulders, the squareness of his tense jaw. I’d seen so much of his body, felt so much of it, but I was only seeing him now, truly seeing him. I was seeing past the mask he put on at work, past the caring, tenderhearted man he was with me, and saw him. Aiden.

“You can come in, you know. You don’t have to watch from the shadows.” My eyes snapped up, and I found him smirking at me.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, taking a small step back. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands on his thighs.

“You’re not,” he said as he patted his leg. “Come here.” I gnawed on my cheek as I pushed the door open. With shaky legs, I slowly made my way to him. I paused when I got to the edge of his desk, our eyes locked. He patted his thigh again, his brow lifting. “Sit.”

Hesitantly, I sat stiffly down on his lap. His arm circled my waist, and he pressed a gentle kiss to my shoulder, letting his lips linger.

“What are you working on?” I asked, my voice coming out shakier than I’d anticipated. He smiled against me, then pulled away and smoothed my hair over my shoulder, letting his hand trail down my back.

“I was just going over a few things,” he said. I stared at the screen. It took my mind a moment to catch up with what I was seeing. I reread it, then put my hand over his.

“Wait.” I turned toward him, my brows pushing together. “This is an investment proposal.” He sighed as he leaned back, resting his head on his chair. “What happened in that meeting?” He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily.

“Jon relayed a message from my father,” he said, his voice tired. “Apparently, he offered an enormous investment, much bigger than the one from Jon. I guess he thinks the only way I’ll talk to him is for business.” He laughed humorlessly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to ask him for a fucking dime.”

“Then don’t,” I said, and slowly, his eyes opened. He smiled at me, his head still resting on the chair.

“What do you propose I do then, Danica?” he asked, not in a teasing or mocking way, but like he really wanted to know.

“Figure out a way to make more money so you won’t have to keep asking investors for it,” I said, and he laughed again, his eyes twinkling. He lifted his hand to my face and gently stroked my cheek with his thumb.

“How?” he asked softly. I chewed on my cheek as I thought, my eyes narrowing. “Stop it.” He ran his thumb over my cheek again, and I stopped, sighing loudly.

“Social media,” I blurted. He lifted his brows, waiting for me to continue. “You have social media, don’t you?”

“Well, yes,” he said. “We use it to keep our customers updated, not for anything else.” I shook my head as he spoke.

“The market is changing,” I said. “You need to connect with customers on a more personal level, and social media is the best way you can do that.”

“You think people are going to be interested in a solar company?” He grinned at me. “I like the way your mind works, but–”

“No, you misunderstand.” I shook my head. “You need social media.” He blinked at me, his smile falling. “You’re the head of the company, right? Build a following. Show people who you are. That’s how you’ll gain more customers.”

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