I want to be the mother of his babies. Can we make that happen?
Not tonight, though, don’t want to jump the gun.
Ayden seems to remember that I’m here, sitting across from him, and he shakes his head and looks away from me, seemingly embarrassed. I think he’s too adorable for words, and all these feelings inside me, this giant, glowing bubble surrounding my heart feels like it’s going to burst in all kinds of cute aggression and tons of cuddly affection.
“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight? I wanted to tell you, and now I have.” He smiles at me, all sappy and dimpled, and it’s sweet, so very different to what I’m used to, making me flustered, making my breath rattle in my lungs.
Finally, the waiter plops a giant plate down of just-out-of-the-oven nachos, layered with veggies, olives and spicy salsa, covered in stringy cheese.
I think I’m actually in heaven. Who would have thought I would be sharing a plate of nachos with Ayden freaking Stone?
We dig in, stuffing our faces before Ayden hounds down our waiter and orders another plate for us. I watch him close his eyes after every chip, and when he opens them, he gives me a warm smile that has me flushing all the way up to my roots, more intimate, between friends and strangers.
After we’ve eaten in silence for a while, Ayden clears his throat and finishes his pint. Licking his lips, he leans in close, using his bigger mass to make the table feel tiny. “You honestly wouldn’t mind coming to set tomorrow? We shoot from seven to seven.”
I nod so hard, my head might pop off. Get a chance to see some of the sets of Leviathan, and being invited by Ayden Stone himself? What am I gonna do, say no? “I’ll be there after work, I promise.”
Ayden’s mouth tightens, hunching his body. “I just want you to see how it really is, how it doesn’t matter. I-I think you’re wonderful, Aria, and I don’t want this to ruin anything. I want very badly to see where this goes…”
“It won’t,” I say, trying to reassure him in this very weird situation. “I just need to be up close and personal. I mean, in any other kind of relationship, if I was kissing someone else on the side?” I hold up a hand, forestalling an argument that begins with It’s different. “I know it’s different, Ayden, I know. You’re not doing it because you’re looking for someone else, you’re doing it because you’re sort of getting paid to do it. And I guess, you’re not really yourself when you kiss another character, right, just like that actor you’re kissing isn’t really themselves.” I frown, rubbing my forehead. “I think I just gave myself a headache.”
Ayden reaches over to grab the hand that I used to rub my forehead, flips it over, and plants a kiss at the center of my palm, like he’s going to make a habit of it. I freeze.
Oh. That was sweet. Can I ask him to do it again, and maybe once more for luck?
“It is odd, I know. The only person I want to be around, the only person I want to be kissing is you, Aria. I promise you.”
I chew my lower lip, thinking, wanting another chip, wanting another sip of my beer, but knowing that’s not really what I want. Do I want to pursue this potential relationship with Ayden Stone? Will I let myself learn who he is and not superimpose Chrisander Gage on top of Ayden so that he always falls short of those expectations? That wouldn’t be fair at all, not to me and definitely not to him. I’ve already fallen in love with Chrisander Gage, how hard could it possibly be to fall in love with the man in front of me?
“This is going to be weird for me,” I tell him, grabbing another chip with my free hand and mulling over what I want to say while I chew. “Really weird. I’m not going to know what to expect, how to act if this goes further than tonight.”
“I would like that very much,” he says, planting another kiss on my palm. This could be some sort of Pavlovian conditioning, but I’m A-OK with it. “It’s going to be odd for me as well. I’m nervous about you watching me work.”
My jaw drops. “But I would love to see you play Chrisander! I would love it so much!” I’m practically squeaking, I can’t help it.
“Then you’ll give this a go? With me?”
“You pulled a trump card, Ayden. That’s a line straight out of season 1, episode 7, Space Cowboy. It’s one of my favourite episodes.”
Ayden grins, doing that kiss-thing on my palm again. I think I might actually be purring. “I was hoping you’d know where it was from, and I would love to know why you love that episode so much; the critics massacred us on it.” Ayden shakes his head. “I’ve gotten distracted again. So will we see where this goes?”
Time to check his memory. I use Chrisander Gage’s catch phrase with a big grin. “You bet.”
Ayden walks me home, seeing me up the stairs with a soft touch of lips on lips that has me craving more kisses, more of him. He waits for me to close the door to my building, and waves as I step into the lobby, leaving me feeling disappointed and surprised that I didn’t feel any kind of pressure to extend an invitation for him to come upstairs. I still don’t know where this is going, and I want to take my time about it and think it over.
Especially as I’m still trying to reconcile Ayden Stone in contrast and comparison with Chrisander Gage.
On my way up to my condo, my phone buzzes and beeps in my purse, and it takes me a second of juggling my keys and my purse to fish my phone out and hold it up to my ear, a little breathless like I’ve done a mild cardio session at the gym.
“Hello?”
“Right, Aria, it’s me, Ayden.”
“Hi! Did you forget something?” I ask, smiling at my keys as I turn them to unlock my front door.
“No, nothing like that. I wanted to make sure that you got in okay.”
I nod, then remember that this is a phone conversation with voices only. “Yeah, I did. Locking my door right now.” There’s silence on the other end—maybe he’s in a car headed back to his hotel (or wherever he’s staying), or maybe he’s just walking around the increasingly deserted streets. “Can you call me when you get in, please?” I ask, trying to ignore that curdle in my belly at the thought of him being mugged, or worse.
I can almost hear him smiling. “Yeah, I’ll definitely do that. Talk to you in a few.”
There’s no real reason to rush around my condo cleaning, trying to put everything to rights—stash the dirty laundry in its appropriate place like the washer, all ready for me to load up detergent and get her going tomorrow morning. I put all my dishes in the sink along with the fourteen different mugs that litter my place because I have a tea-drinking problem, even kick at the shoes I’ve left behind in my various states of undress, trying to get my room tidy while I use a makeup wipe to start my whole skincare routine before bed. I do this with a mounting horror that there was no way I could have invited Ayden upstairs, not when my place looked like this.
I’m just about done brushing out my hair after donning my pajamas when my phone beeps with a call. “Ayden?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Just wanted to let you know that I made it back all right.”
“Good. I’m glad you did.” I clear my throat, searching for something else to say. “Shouldn’t you have security with you at all times or something?”
He snorts, and it sounds like he’s opening a fridge door, maybe looking for a midnight snack.
I’ll be your midnight snack.
I want to groan at my thoughts but choose to listen instead. “No, I’d rather not. Makes me feel weird enough as it is. I don’t need that.”
“But what if something happened to you? What if you got hurt?” Careful, careful, Aria. Don’t want to show him how much you already care.
“Thinking about my safety, yeah?”
“Yeah. I am,” I say carefully, as if I’m not 100 percent transparent with how much I like him. I pull down the sheets of my bed after I’ve turned out all the lights in my place and climb in, getting the position just right—flopped onto my belly, phone against my ear.
“What are you doing right now?”
“I’m snuggled in my bed. You?”
“No. Is it weird if I tell you that I would have loved to be there, right next to you?”
I throw back my covers as my body is suddenly doused in flame. Holy no, no, no! Ayden freaking Stone just said that to me! Then again, if he was a guy I was really into, then I would be doing the same thing.
Keep those expectations in check, remember, Aria?
“I’m sorry if that was too forward,” he says, and his voice is so close to my ear that if I close my eyes, I could totally pretend that he’s right here, right next to me, a dream come true.
I heave in a deep breath, struggling to keep my breathing even. I don’t want to know what’s going to happen to me when I have the actual real person sleeping next to me. Maybe I’ll implode, fangirl style?
“I’m not sorry I said it, though.”
I snort. “No, you don’t sound sorry.” I sigh. “Why didn’t you ask to come upstairs?”
I hear a rustling, and sweet Leviathan, I think he’s getting undressed with me on the line! My whole body catches fire again, and I try to place my hand on my cheeks to stifle the burn there. No one can see me in the dark, so there’s no reason to be embarrassed, but I still feel exposed. “I don’t want to rush things with you. I don’t want to chase you away, I don’t want who I am to chase you away.”
I flop over onto my back and hike up my sleep tank to get some air on the exposed skin of my belly. Maybe I’ve started getting hot flashes a few decades early. “You mean about the whole actor thing?”
I swear I hear sheets being moved around, blankets, too. I think he’s finally in bed, and I’m in bed, and one of us is in the wrong place. “Yeah. I have a job that puts me under scrutiny, especially in those times when I don’t want to be. In moments when I want to kiss the girl I’ve only just met but has me twisted in knots inside.”
Chrisander would never talk like this to Amy, and not even to Mage. Never in a million years. The guy’s just not this forward or forthcoming; he’s the brooding type. You have to infer every little thing from tiny inflections on certain spoken words. Hell, half the fun is watching the longing looks and trying to figure out what he wants to say.
But Ayden? Ayden is someone entirely different.
“You’re making me blush,” I blurt, attempting to fan myself, but it only serves to make me hotter.
“And it must look lovely on you.”
I drum my heels into the mattress. “You’re only making me blush harder.” I chew my lip, and like always, charge on right ahead without thinking of the consequences. “You’re not who I thought you were going to be. Not at all.”
Ayden’s quiet for a time, and I can hear his breathing, nice and even. “Is that good or bad?”
Maybe it’s easier like this, talking like this when we’re not face-to-face, delaying that in-person conversation where we’re both awkward and stumbling over our words.
“It’s good. Really good. I just feel at a loss with you, not knowing where I stand. Maybe I’m being too honest, but I just don’t have time to play games, you know? I like you. I think you’re a really interesting person with a lot to give to the world, and maybe I can get a tiny part of it—one day.”
Oh my God. Oh my God!!!
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