Page 41 of Vicious Arrangement
So what do I do? I can’t fuck Aria again, and I can’t go out and fuck random women or even ones I meet online for hookups, something I’ve never quite brought myself to do. Last thing I want is my profile out there.
I do know one thing. Catching feelings for Aria’s a bad move right now, no matter how attracted I am.
Work comes first.
I need to focus on that, not screw up the legacy I’ve been given. The one I mean to shape into my own.
When I finally finish my drink, Jenny comes up. “Another?”
“Sure, with a water back.”
“Coming right up.”
It’s latewhen I get my car home.
And, honestly, it’s not until I put my hand in my jacket pocket to unlock the front door that I touch a second set of keys.
Fuck.
I never gave these to Aria.
“You really are an asshole,” I mutter, calling the lift and putting my key in the lock for my floor before pressing second button to take me to the second floor.
When the elevator doors open, I’m opposite the living room. The door’s open, a breeze and the muted sounds of the city below filtering in. The double walls of the outside keep the sounds down, but I love the sound of the city, its rush and life and?—
A black furry head rises above the back of one of my white sofas and growls. “Christ, go away demon dog.”
But I’m not going to be intimidated in my house so I go up to close the door, but then I see Aria and stop, staring.
She’s asleep on the sofa, a plate that had cheese and crackers sits on the coffee table along with a half full glass of white wine.
I know it had crackers and cheese, because bits of them are on the floor and crumbs of crackers stick to the dog’s whiskers.
“Ugh.”
Then it hits me. Was she waiting for me to get home? She could have borrowed Carrie’s keys, or called me, but it’s like she was… waiting…
I’ve never had someone waiting for me.
Maybe Josh, but I’m not sure a four-year-old counts.
She’s so…
A pang hits my heart, making it squeeze as guilt slithers in.
Aria is, since the moment she tried to help me with the napkins, a nice girl, someone sweet and giving; she’s a nurse for fuck’s sake.
She deserves my respect, not me using her for sex like I did. I might think nothing of it, but someone like her sure would.
Being forced to marry a stranger and give up her space has got to be hard. I don’t even want to share with this slobbering, cracker and cheese stealing, cushion murdering machine.
So I think, at the very least, I could stop being such an asshole for her.
Especially since this arrangement is forever.
She doesn’t know that. I never told her. But there are levels to an arrangement.
I sigh, not wanting to think about it.
