Dear Aaron Page 102

How much had they had to drink?

“Yeah, you’re going to need to drive,” Brittany said, as if reading my mind.

Thankfully, Aaron wasn’t an idiot because he asked, “Ruby, can you drive?”

I nodded, finally glancing in his direction but setting my gaze on his mouth. I started to say that maybe I wasn’t the best person to drive a big pickup around, but with Mindy’s arm in a cast, who else would do it? So I settled for a crusty, “Sure.” I only had to drive. I could do it. I knew enough people with trucks. If they could do it, I could too.

He didn’t toss the keys, and I was thankful for it. Walking toward him, I took them from his hand, noticing he held them a moment longer than he needed to, and walked around to the driver side of the door. The doors were already unlocked as I lunged up on to the first step and then swung inside the cab as Aaron took the passenger seat and Max and Mindy took the bench in the back. I didn’t look at him as I adjusted the seat so I could reach the pedals, and I didn’t look at him as I messed with the mirrors either. I also definitely didn’t look at him as I pulled his truck onto the street.

“Want me to navigate you back?” Mindy asked from the back seat.

“Yes, please,” I told her, fully aware I only knew the basics on where we were supposed to be going.

It wasn’t until we were basically on the straight shot back to the beach house that Aaron’s question came at me, like he was trying to be quiet, but it wasn’t happening. “Did you buy anything?”

He was my friend and I had no reason to get weird. With my hands tight on the steering wheel, I glanced at him quickly and gave him a smile that was totally tight. “Just a magnet for my mom and her husband.”

“Nothing for you?”

In a grumpier tone that I intended, I told him, “No.”

“You didn’t find anything you liked?” he asked.

“There were a few stores with really nice things in them,” I told him, trying to sound normal. Nonchalant. Fine. “I just can’t… you know, be spending money on things I don’t need right now.”

“I would have spotted you if you wanted something.”

Flexing my fingers around the steering wheel, I reminded myself that none of this was his fault. He was just trying to be nice to me. He was always trying to be nice to me. And it made me feel guilty because why did I deserve it? I hadn’t done anything special for it to be called for.

He had no idea how I felt about him. He didn’t deserve my pissy attitude. If I was Jasmine right now, I’d tell her to stop being a brat.

Torn between feeling bad and still holding on to that residual anger simmering in my veins while I flashbacked to the pretty waitress he’d been talking to, I swallowed the golf ball in my throat and really, really tried to be normal. To be kind. To be fair. “That’s okay, but thank you,” I said, only sounding about half as ungrateful as I needed to, my voice higher and squeakier than normal, betraying me. “I already owe you enough.”

Maybe I hadn’t needed to add that part to the end.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Aaron practically whispered.

“If you say so,” I responded just as quietly, my fingers squeezing the steering wheel.

“Ruby—”

I shook my head and shot him a wary smile quickly before glancing forward again, the lie on my lips, the ache in my heart. “You’re a really good friend to me, stalker. Thank you.”

I might have been fine the rest of the night if he’d responded, if he’d said anything, but he didn’t. He just turned his attention toward the window and didn’t say hardly another word to me the rest of the night.

Chapter 19

I woke up early the next morning again all on my own. Whether it was because I was somewhere my body subconsciously knew wasn’t my bed back in Houston, or if it was because I had Aaron, Aaron, Aaron so imprinted on my brain that I didn’t want to sleep longer than I absolutely needed to, I had no idea. All I knew was that it was thirty minutes after six when I reached for my phone and sent my mom a message telling her I was alive.

It was three minutes later I got a response from her that said Good. Keep it that way.

I’d showered the night before once we got back from the restaurant, but the idea of being in a bathing suit all day, even knowing that there was no one other than me who would notice or care if my legs were shaved smooth, I headed back into the bathroom and took a quick one. After getting dressed, the house was quiet like it had been every other morning. I headed upstairs to see the sun already rising. I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, and instead of heading out to the balcony like I’d been doing, I leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped at my water, looking around the kitchen and living area, trying to get my thoughts together in a place that wasn’t where Aaron had been surprising me every morning with breakfast.

If that didn’t make me sound like a bitter jerk, I didn’t know what would.

I was disappointed in myself, honestly—especially the more I thought about our situation, the situation I found myself in with Aaron. The part of my brain that wasn’t ruled by hormones and emotions, that had watched people around me struggle with relationships and friendships and judged them for their actions, knew I was being crazy. It knew it. It realized and accepted that I had zero claim on this man I was in love with who brought me breakfast and fixed my sunscreen for me and taught me to fish and made me feel special.