Page 28 of Winning the Nightcap

“Come on up,” I call into the intercom, buzzing Aiden and Hopper into the building. I’ve been a mess of nerves all morning. Having Aiden in my apartment feels intimate, not that anything is going to happen, since he isn’t interested in me like that anymore.

Part of me feels wary about him seeing where I live because, while I find it comfortable, I can only imagine the type of place his salary affords him. I don’t think he’d judge me for the small, modest space, but I’m in my head about it all the same. Josh used to give me shit for how average my apartment is.Not the only thing about me he found to be just average.

I can’t keep my plants alive, so the windowsill is flooded with decrepit plant remains in mismatched pots. I’m not good at putting different pieces together cohesively. I don’t have an “aesthetic” or theme. I have a collection of well-loved, hand-me-down furniture, thrift store finds, discount pieces, and a hodgepodge of gifts people have given me that I can’t bring myself to ever part with because at some point someone thought of me when they saw it.

I don’t know why I ever cared what Josh thought of my space, because even if no one else in the world appreciates my style, fuck them, right? I like it and I’ve decided that’s what matters. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.

I give the living room and kitchen a final once-over before Aiden knocks on my door. I can hear the patter of paws on the hallway tile.

A freshly showered Aiden greets me as I open the door. His hair has that whole…tousled and curling slightly at the ends, effortlessly perfect thing going on. Goddamnhim.

“Morning. I brought you breakfast, but I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a few different things.” He hands me a massive to-go bag and coffee from the nearby bakery as Hop excitedly prances into my apartment and starts sniffing his way around.

I walk into the kitchen, following Hop and placing the bag of greasy food on the island. The smell makes my mouth water. “A few things? From the looks of it, you got meeverythingthey have.” I tease. “That was really thoughtful, but you didn’t have to do that. Thank you.” I turn around, catching him taking me in with his eyes, but I can’t quite read his expression.

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his joggers. Wow, they certainly hug his muscular thighs…and okay, the way his biceps are stretching the sleeves of his fitted shirt…I wonder what he looks like in his baseball uniform. Maybe I can do a quick google search later…

Stop, Bec. That’s fucking creepy.

“You’re really helping me out here. It’s the least I can do. I know how important it is to have people in your circle you can count on, and I haven’t always had that. I appreciate you taking on Hop for me.” He looks sincere, almost sad.

His vulnerable admission catches me off guard, disarming me and making me feel like I’ve caught a glimpse of a side of him I haven’t seen before.

“That sounds lonely, Aiden. I hope your circle grows a little bigger here in Columbus.” I sip at the coffee he brought me. “Besides, you’re doing me a favor. I miss having a dog around to cuddle. This is what friends are for.”

We fall silent, and I think back to when we met. When I thought I’d get to cuddle withhim. Okay, maybe more than cuddling. I shake the thought from my mind. I need to forget about ouralmostmoments if this friend thing is going to work.

Aiden hesitates, then takes a few quick strides toward me, toweringover me, backing me against my kitchen counter but not touching me, mere inches separating my chest from his. I tilt my head back to look at him, caught off guard by his sudden approach. My heart starts racing and I wish like hell that he’d put his hands on me and pull me closer.

“Is that still what you want…to be friends?” Aiden asks, almost in a whisper.

“I…uh, I…yeah? Why not?” I lie with a shrug, feeling my cheeks heat, my face flush, and my breath quicken. I’m confident he can hear how unsure I sound. It’s not that I don’t want to be his friend, I’m the one who suggested it.Like an idiot.But we’ve already talked about this, so why is he bringing it up again?

Aiden has been my “what if” man for over three years. I’ve only been in one relationship since the wedding, and it was messy. Ever since, I’ve avoided dating anyone seriously. I blame one thing or another, usually work, pouring all of my free time into doing what I love. In truth, I haven’t met anyone who can quiet the insecurities Josh left behind. And when I try to give someone new a chance, I end up thinking about Aiden, comparing everyone to him and the feelings that he ignited in me when we first met. If meeting someone new doesn’t do enough to beat the memory of Aiden in a single weekend, then why bother?

For the briefest moment, I imagine seeing a ripple of disappointment wash over Aiden’s face, quickly replaced by a neutral expression. I need to end this conversation before I try to fill the silence with nonsensical rambling, or worse, embarrass myself by rehashing our past to see if he still thinks about me too. “So…Hopper, you up for joining girls’ night tonight?” I call out to diffuse the tension. Aiden still hasn’t taken his eyes off me.

It’s at this exact moment I realize I fucked up. I’ve been so distracted by Aiden—memories of him and his consuming presence in myapartment—that I’m just now realizing how quiet it is. And that a certain puppy is nowhere to be found. “Uh, Aiden…did you see where Hop went?”

Aiden looks around and calls for Hopper with no luck. My apartment isn’t that big, so after quickly scanning the living room, coming up empty, I walk over to the doorway of my bedroom. I find Hopper rolling around on my bed, making himself quite the cozy spot in the middle of my oversized, fluffy comforter. I might have a modest income, but if I’m splurging on something, it’s comfortable fucking bedding. My priorities on this are set and I regret nothing.

Aiden comes up behind me and leans on the door frame, my back inches from his front. His proximity has my insides racing. Why does he have to smell so damn good?

“Huh, I don’t remember buying that toy. Come to think of it, I didn’t unpack any of his toys yet. They’re still in the bag I brought over with his food. Did you have some lying around for him?” Aiden’s question pulls me out of my stupor as I realize I have no idea what he’s talking about.

I see Hopper lying on my bed, chewing on something pink. Then, I hear a familiar buzzing. It hits me like a slap in the face, and I feel my stomach fall to the floor.

Why? Why is the universe doing this to me?

I mentally wave goodbye to my last shred of dignity that’s about to evaporate into thin air. I’m going to title this next chapter in my embarrassing life story “The dog is chewing on my fucking hot-pink vibrator.”

Bury me here. I cannot go on.

I thought I stashed it away earlier this morning after cleaning it, but I must have left it on my bed. I have no idea if Aiden realizes what Hop is chewing on, but maybe I can play it off. “Oh yeah, I had a few oldtoys lying around.”

It’s not old. It’s new, dammit, and it cost me a hundred and fifty bucks.

“But come to think of it, I’m pretty sure that one is broken, I better take it from him so he doesn’t rip the squeaker or stuffing out or anything. Hopper, drop it.” I say, using the cue that we just introduced in yesterday’s class. While I don’t expect miracles, I sure am hoping for one. Can Hop pick up this skill in less than twenty-four hours? Please say yes.

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