Page 8 of It's Complicated

My other best friend and love of my life is standing on the other side, fist raised, primed for another knock, looking painfully handsome in a stylish blue coat.

“Lori?” For a moment he frowns as if unsure he’s got the right house. Then he looks past my shoulder at the world-class city view of Chicago and his brain must compute that he didn’tcome to my back-alley-facing industrial loft. The scowl deepens. “What are you doing here?”

Aiden’s gaze drops to the floor. “Are those breath mints?”

“Yeah, sorry, I knocked them off on my way to the door. I was still sleepy.”

I step aside to let him in and before he can notice I’m sucking the last mint, I swallow it whole. Except, the treacherous piece of menthol confectionery gets stuck in my throat and I have to rush to the kitchen in a coughing fit.

And now I can’t breathe.

I turn on the faucet and try to gulp down some water, but the liquid doesn’t make it past the mint and dribbles down my chin.

The short-winded rasps I’m making force Aiden to catch up. “Gosh, Lori, are you choking?”

My wannabe negative, nonchalant reply comes out as a strangled death rattle.

The doctor in him takes over. Aiden is behind me in a few quick strides and lowers me down toward the sink to administer five blows to my back with the heel of his hand. And I swear, whenever I imagined Aiden bending me over fixtures, this wasn’t what I had in mind.

When the gentle approach still doesn’t work, he goes full Heimlich on me. He wraps his arms around my waist, makes a fist just above my navel, and, grabbing the fist with his other hand, he pushes it inward and upward at the same time. At the second abdominal thrust, the mint flies out of my mouth and goes to decorate Jace’s kitchen wall.

I’m still sputtering and spattering when Aiden lets me go.

I’m fine, I want to say, only the phrase comes out still wheezy and as if I was talking in a monster voice, “I’m fhhhooine.”

Aiden opens the fridge and pours me a glass of water.

I sip it while I try to regain some dignity.

When I feel like I can talk in a normal tone again, I ask, “Hey, what are you doing here this early?”

Aiden’s brows shoot high in his forehead. “Are you all right?”

I wave him off. “Sure, I’m fine. Crisis averted. We’re all doctors here, no need to worry. I’m great.” Except for the humiliation, maybe. My reddish-blue, mascara-streaked, almost-just-choked-on-a-mint face must look especially attractive. “So, why are you here?”

Aiden is flabbergasted. “Why am I here? Why areyouat Jace’s place?”

“Oh, I slept here last night.”

His jaw tightens. “With Jace?”

“Yeah, with Jace, it’s a one-bedroom apartment last I checked. You’re acting weird this morning, Aidenberry.”

“I’m acting weird?”

“Yep.” I turn to the coffee maker and grab a new filter. “You want coffee?”

“No, I want an explanation.”

I turn back to him. “An explanation about what?” Aiden looks handsomely broody and I cave. “Okay, I confess. I didn’t want to answer the door with morning breath, so I grabbed Jace’s mints, no big deal. But, of course, I knocked the box to the floor and all the mints fell out except for one, which I ate and then proceeded to almost choke on two seconds later. Thanks again for saving my life, by the way.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I want to know how long it has been going on?”

“My mint-popping habit? Only twenty minutes, I swear, it’s already a thing of the past.”

“No, how long have you been sleeping with Jace?”

“Oh.”

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