Page 72 of Between the Lines

“What’s wrong with my car?”

“It’s a death trap.” I take a long sip of the wine and look over at the screen. “Friends, huh? After all this time.”

“I needed company, but not something that would distract me. I’ve watched the whole series so many times that I know all the lines.” She shrugs again, and the blush is back on her cheeks. “Sorry. Did you just get home?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Did you really get up at five thirty again this morning?”

We got home late last night after the movie premiere. And I lay awake in the bed, unable to sleep despite the exhaustion, just down the hall from her.

“Yes,” I say. Working out had been necessary to get thewantout of my body. Some of it, anyway. The rest I drained down the shower after.

But it’s back with a vengeance now.

She shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips. “You’re incredible. I’ve never known anyone who works as hard as you do.”

“That’s not true. You work hard.”

“I drove around LA today, spent four hours at a coffee shop writing, had a delicious but overpriced lunch, and then sat here with wine and TV until I fell asleep.” She levels me with a look. “Not the same.”

“You can work from here. If you want to. Use the pool, the gym, anything. All day.” I take a sip of the wine and look away. That idea sounds too good. Her, at home. Here.

“Thanks. It’s a beautiful place.” Her gaze is soft, and she looks back at the screen. There’s some kind of subplot about a cat. I dimly remember the episode. It would be so easy, to sink down on the couch beside her, to pull her close, and to shut my eyes, too.

I reach again for her notepad instead. The one with the questions I still haven’t answered.

“You’ve written that I’ve been avoiding the hard topics.”

“You snooped while I was sleeping?”

“The notepads were left open. And is it really snooping if it’s all about me?” I tap a knuckle against the piece of paper. She wants to know about my past relationships. Exes. And in that… I see an opportunity. “You remember the deal we made? I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.”

CHAPTER 27

CHARLOTTE

The notepad on his lap is filled with my familiar handwriting. The little scribbled notes to myself were not meant to be read by anyone else.I still know nothing about his relationship history. Ask? And about aspirations?

But now Aiden is sitting beside me, a notepad in hand, inviting me to do just that.

IfI share, too.

I feel too warm, and just a little bit tipsy. The wine was much better than I anticipated, and I didn’t mean to fall asleep outhere,where he would find me in my sweats and camisole.

“I did wonder…” I start and reach for the glass of wine. The same one he’d just stolen from me. Taking a sip, I gather my courage. “When did you have your first girlfriend?”

He smiles. It’s a small, wolfish thing that speaks of all the truths I’m going to have to give him in return. Like I’ve opened the door and invited in an inquisition.

“I was sixteen,” he says. “It lasted for about a year. We went to the same high school.”

“What kind of boyfriend were you?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’d have to ask her, which you absolutely won’t.”

“You’re still in contact?”

“No, not at all. But to evaluate oneself…?”

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