Page 36 of The Lies I've Told
God, I was acting like a fool. What was with me tonight? I was never this nervous around men.
That damn email…
“Well, let’s just say, I’m all wrong for that particular profession.”
His eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes that seemed to include every color under the sun, stared deeply into mine. “Well, I guess that explains why I’ve never been into models. I prefer curves.”
Hot. So hot in here.
“Drinks?”
“What?” he replied as the connection between us snapped.
“You wanted drinks? Do you want to head inside?”
“Oh, right. Yes, of course.”
My hand finally found the handle, and as I pushed the door open and the summer air rushed in, I couldn’t help but take a deep breath and look to the heavens.
Dear God, what was I doing?
I awoke to the sound of my phone and the ear-piercing alarm I’d set the night before.
Blinking several times, I looked around, my mind still a haze after my dream about Aiden.
I was still in the weird bedroom that looked like my childhood bedroom but wasn’t.
Same screwed up life.
Different day.
At least, today, I’d woken up on time.
And alone.
Way to go, Millie.
I gave myself a mental pat on the back as I proceeded to the bathroom my sister had tastefully renovated, admiring the subtle coastal vibe she’d given it with the white subway tile throughout and cool blue accents. It wasn’t cliché like a lot of beachy accommodations with shells plastered literally everywhere, but it gave a serene vibe that screamed relaxation.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for any of that and needed to get a move on. Hopping into the shower, I spent a few minutes getting clean, and within thirty minutes or so, I was presentable in a fresh pair of linen shorts and a floral top.
Sweeping my hair back into a side braid and putting on some light makeup, I felt confident and better prepared about going into breakfast than I had the day before.
I stepped into the hallway, doing my best not to press my ear against Aiden’s door—that would definitely not be professional—and headed for the kitchen.
As soon as I entered, I nearly tripped over my own feet.
“Hey, sweetheart!”
Sitting at the table, drinking coffee, were my parents.
But that wasn’t what had me nearly choking on my own saliva. At the stove, cooking them breakfast, was Aiden.
Freaking Aiden Fisher.
My guest.
My honored guest. The one I was supposed to treat like royalty.
