Page 39 of Silent Is The Heart

“Did you quit on me?”

“No. I was waiting for you.”

That’s… sweet. Reclaiming my seat, I study the scattered pieces that remain. I’m not waiting for him in return; I’m hunting for new matches.

The water from the faucet sluices over his fingers as he scrubs a glass hurriedly. It’s like he wants to get back to this ridiculous distraction I brought. He’s wearing jeans today, with a dress shirt tucked snugly into the waist underneath his black belt. An errant memory reminds me that the staff at Hampton used to have casual Fridays, so I’m guessing this was Aaron’s attempt at conforming to that ritual. Although I wouldn’t call a dress shirt casual, it’s typical Aaron. I don’t think the guy could look shabby if he tried, even if his dress shoes do look a bit worn. With his sleeves rolled up, I find myself studying the thinlayer of hair on his forearms and the faint cords in his arms. Grabbing a dish towel, he dries the glass carefully. Gently. It’s strange how much enjoyment it brings me, watching the most mundane tasks and movements, watchinghim.

I’m so lost that he catches my gaze when he turns around. Glancing at my watch to not appear so obvious, I see that it’s six-thirty. My next appointment isn’t for another hour, but there’s no need to give Wolf any more reasons to gloat about me being gone so long or wear out my welcome here.

“I should get going. I have an appointment.”

“Oh.”

A giddy rush flutters through me at the sound of his disappointment. It was tacos and a puzzle, Aaron, not aPorsche.

“Well, thanks for all of this.” He smiles. “This was…nice.”

More flutters. It was tacos and a puzzle, Easton, not a date. Jesus, I need to leave.

Getting up, I start for the kitchen doorway but pause as Aaron cuts me off, moving past me. He walks me to his front door just like he did last time, all gentlemanly and shit. I don’t think I’ve ever been walked to the door unless it was to tell me to get the fuck out after I turned down a sleepover from a one-night stand.

“I’ll let you know if there’s a missing piece at the end,” he teases.

Shit. Why didn’t I think of that? I should have pocketed one just to fuck with him. Then I could have texted that I was holding it for ransom.

Oh my God. Go!

“Don’t start the dick without me,” I warn, because I have officially been infected by his dorkiness.

“Deal,” he laughs, opening the inside door.

And then… I just stand there for no goddamn reason like I don’t know what to do with myself because I can’t look away from him looking at me. I should grab the screen door handle and step outside, but I blame his face. It always looks like there’s something paramount on his lips that I need to stick around to hear.

I’m not the only one feeling the awkwardness. I can tell by the way his lips are parted. The next thing I know, he’s moving toward me. When his arms wrap around me in an innocent hug, I realize I’d been holding my breath like it was for something more. What the hell—did I actually want him to kiss me?

I’m hot-blooded. He’s a guy. Of course, I wouldn’t have been bent out of shape over it.

Except, this hug, just like the last one he gave me, makes me helpless in a way that doesn’t make me miserable. Is there such a thing as a comforting kind of helplessness?

Awkwardly, I give him a little squeeze so I don’t look like a mannequin. That soft chestnut hair of his is like feathers against my cheek. Everything about the unexpected embrace fits. I didn’t know that people could fit together like this without sex involved. It’s an oddly deeper connection than when I’ve had my dick deep inside someone. It has my entire body feeling heavy and sedated. Why do I have the urge to thank him?

Pulling back, he drops his arms, looking so content and it’s got me contemplating if we just created magic. A strange little laugh bubbles past my lips before I get my shit together and nod, booking it out the door.

Maybe Wolf was right—I do feel fucked up again, but not the way I was when I left Hampton Hills. This is more liketen shots on my birthday when I feel like the king of the worldkind of fucked up. There must have been something in those tacos.

CHAPTER 20

Easton

“Oh, my gosh. You don’t want to do that. I’m sweating so much it’s gross,” Aaron shouts over the music when I grip the back of his neck to give him a playful shake after his return from the dancefloor with Shannon.

“Woo! Your man can move!” Shannon shouts, stopping at the table’s edge to take a drink from her highball.

“Too bad moving isn’t dancing,” Aaron replies with a laugh, wiping his brow.

It’s a nice recovery from her innocent accusation, but I still want to crawl under the table.My man?Is that what everyone thinks, or has Wolf been talking shit behind my back? That’s not like him, but I glance over at him just to be sure. He and Melissa appear to be in one of their regular disagreements, judging by their body language, so he’s currently dead to me on the intel front. They’d better not flake out. He told me he’d be DD tonight. I’m not getting in some nasty ass cab because of boo drama.

The waitress brings another tray of shots that I have no clue who ordered. Me? Who’s to say at this point?

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