Page 34 of Heart Strings
I hold a palm out, and he fills it with…a crumpled, already opened Skittles bag. My mouth twists in confusion as I stare at it. “Uh…Thanks?”
“You left before pudding, and I know you inhale those things when you’re stressed.”
Suddenly, the piece of trash in my hand becomes almost precious. I had been craving something sugary and planned on scrounging around the caterer’s table after getting my mom settled, so she couldn’t judge me for it. I smile up at him. If only they’d been sealed.
“Thanks,” I repeat. I dump a few into my palm and examine the colorful candies. Something is missing. I peer into the bagand don’t find them there, either. “Did they discontinue those nasty purple ones?”
Aidan looks away. “I picked them all out. After I washed my hands, of course.”
If anyone else’s grubby paws had been all over my candy, I’d throw the whole bag away. But Aidan remembered my fondness for Skittles, all except those disgusting purple ones—and also how neurotic I am about food contamination.
“But why?”
“Because you hate the European ones that taste like black currant,” he says, as if this is totally normal. “You don’t mind the American ones that taste like grape. Although I don’t see how you can taste the difference.”
I stuff a handful in my mouth and watch a smug little smile bloom under his auburn beard while I chew. They’re sticky and artificial and perfect.
“That was very sweet of you,” I say around another mouthful. “To anticipate my family-based neurosis. Or should I be offended?”
“I remember your coping mechanisms and my family drives me mad sometimes, too.” He tucks his hands into his pockets, flirty as he adds, “No need to read more into it than that, unless you want to have another row tonight?”
I sweep a playful gaze up and down his body. “Why do I have a feeling you’d kinda like that?”
His focus sharpens, hot like a magnifying glass concentrating light. “Because you remember me, too.”
The air between us is suddenly electric. I think about the way he studied me practicing knots. The sweet insistence of his mouth when we kissed at the creek. The memory of his melodicvoice begging for mercy the last time we made love. Some people are just compatible.
Aidan was the first guy I felt comfortable enough with to experiment in new ways. He’d let me explore my desire for control and I discovered that sex could be more than physical release. It was empowering and exhilarating to be in charge of his pleasure, to tease him until his desire built so intensely. To be trusted. I allowed Aidan into my deepest fantasies, and he met them with open enthusiasm. Allowing someone else to see that side of me helped me experience my body as a vessel of sensuality, rather than something that caused me pain. I’ll always be thankful to Aidan for that bit of self-discovery.
He scratches at his neck. “So, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Bad. Always give me the bad first.”
“While you were walking your mom to her room, Lark told your dad he could take one of the rooms in the castle. He was yawning and looked so tired—”
“I figured he’d stay here.” I scrape together the last of my emotional fortitude, then train my eyes on Aidan again. “She was just trying to be a polite hostess. I’m not mad at her.”
“How about some good news?” he asks. I nod and offer him the homely bag of sweets. He puts up a hand in refusal. “No, thanks. I ate all the purple ones and now I’m ready to be sick.” I start to frown, wondering if he really is nauseated, before he dips a hand into the bag with a small smile. He tosses a few candies into his mouth and sucks for a moment. “Well, the good news is your dad opened a trapdoor looking for his room and promptly fell into the moat.”
Despite myself, I snort. There is no moat here.
“An alligator got him. My condolences.” Aidan smiles. “He’s still in the garden. But I thought that mental image would make you laugh.”
I pop a few more Skittles into my mouth. “So there is no good news?”
“Nope. Unless you count more opportunity for reconciliation and bonding with your old man.”
I pull a face. “What if I’d asked you to lead with the good news?”
“You wouldn’t,” he says confidently.
I open my mouth to object, but he is right. Loath as I am to admit it, Aidan is not only thoughtful, he’s observant. And he remembers. Two years later, it seems he still knows me. Maybe he’s not so fake, after all.
“Hey,” Aidan says, “would you like to go for a swim with me? Right now, in the creek?”
Chapter 15
Aidan
