Still, I can’t deny this one-sided attraction.
Maybe it was the way he spoke to me when I was at my lowest. That must be it. He made me feel better during such a humiliating time and I’m just feeling grateful. I’m humoring myself anyways. Someone like him will never be interested in someone like me, a schoolgirl drooling over her best friend’s much older, and very successful brother.
∞∞∞
“Em.”
The gentle sound of Ashley’s voice wakes me. I rustle in my blankets and peek up, seeing her next to the bed, cradling a box of chocolates.
A smile instantly creeps on my face. She’s given me so much space since that night. School was over, and I had nowhere to be. She knew I needed to relax in solitude, and she granted me that.
“Ash.” My voice is thick from sleeping so much.
She sits down beside me on the bed.
“I know we haven’t talked much. I’m so sorry about last weekend. I didn’t know your brother would fight him. I ruined your first night of seeing him in so long.” Guilt laces my voice.
“Are you kidding me? I spent the last five days with him while you were in here. I’m already sick of him,” She jokes, her smile sympathetic. “First off, Aiden fights...everyone.”
I try to imagine it. He definitely has the build for it, and he takes obvious care of his body by the glances I caught of him with his shirt off after he came inside from a long run.
And I remember the rage in his eyes that night. But to me, he is gentle. I feel a little less special about Aiden saving me now that I know him fighting is a regular thing and not because of the way Ian treated me.
“Oh.” Is all I manage to say.
“You okay?” Ashley twirls a lock of my brown hair around her finger, concern plastered on her face.
“I know I’ve been sulking, but I do feel better. Where did you go that night when we got home by the way? I was going to talk to you but ended up talking to Aiden,” I question quietly.
“Yeah, I was really surprised when he practically kicked me out of the car once we pulled in the driveway. I’ve never seen him be so nice to someone before. He normally doesn’t care about anything.” She laughs, but her eyes pan downward in confusion.
“I thought you said he fights a lot?” I’m confused. “Obviously he likes confrontation.”
Ashley shakes her head. “He does, but it’s different. He talked to you. You were in the car for half an hour. The confrontation happened with Ian. But with you, he looked concerned. It’s just normally not his thing.” She shrugs, looking at me with curious eyes. “He filled me in on what Ian said, so I’m assuming that’s what got him heated. I still can’t believe he did that to you!” She balls up her small fist as her face scrunches in anger.
“Honestly, I don’t want to talk about Ian anymore. I can’t believe I thought he loved me. How stupid. We barely know each other.” I lament in an exhausted voice.
“It’s normal to be upset. Yes, you weren’t together long, but you were comfortable enough around him to think about…you know.” She sighs.
The silence draws out for several long seconds before Ashley jumps up with a smile. “Let’s dress up and go out tonight!”
“I don’t know, Ash.” I throw the comforter off me. The idea of fun does sound good though.
“Please,” She pleads through batted lashes.
“Fine.” With a sigh, I cave.
“I’m coming too.” Aiden calls down the hall in a serious tone.
We burst out into laughter.
I wonder how much of that conversation he heard.
“Protective older brother much?”
“It isn’t me he wants to protect.” Ashley whispers with a sly smile.
∞∞∞
Aiden is in Portland, an hour and a half drive away.
I’m guessing he’s looking for apartments there. I wonder what he does, what his major was. He exudes confidence and wealth when you look at him, I just have no idea what his career path could be.
My curiosity on a high, I search our small house for Ashley. I find her on the couch with her laptop open, typing violently against the keyboard.
“Ash? You okay?” I assess her behavior, her fingers meticulously and harshly combing the keyboard with a little more force than necessary.
She clicks one more button before slamming her laptop shut. Turning to me, she slaps a manufactured smile on her face. “Yeah, I was just sending my English teacher a few choice words on an e-mail for giving me a seventy on my final. It was an essay about ‘love’, which is supposed to be subjective!”
“Miss. Parks?” I ask with a laugh.
She makes an air check mark and huffs. “Yup, that’s the one.”
“I think you’ll be okay. You have a what...ninety-seven in that class?” I stifle a laugh.
She groans. “I wanted a perfect one hundred. That essay is thirty percent of our grade! She’s just angry her husband left her last year. I mean, why make us write that for a final if you’re scorned and don’t want to hear about love?” She places the laptop on the table beside the book Aiden was reading yesterday.
I take a seat on the couch, smiling in surprise when I see the title.
“Aiden reads classic novels?” I eye the bent and tattered copy of The Merchant of Venice.
“Yeah, it’s weird right?” She laughs while gesturing to the book. “He’s always been a reader. When he came to visit when I was younger, he would read instead of playing with the neighborhood kids. I always wondered why he went down the corporate road, you would have thought he’d be a writer with the amount of time he spends with his face buried in a book.”
“Corporate? Aiden?” I ask,
