What in the hell had I just done? Had I actually just said that to Aaron’s mom?
I couldn’t believe it.
I couldn’t freaking believe it.
Who was I?
“Everything okay?” came a voice that had me jumping in place and slamming the cabinet door closed.
It was Aaron.
“Oh, yeah,” I stuttered. “Um.” I knew I needed to tell him. I couldn’t not. My face still went red anyway. “Your, ah, mom called.”
He was halfway to the kitchen when he stalled in motion. Already in his swim trunks and a white T-shirt, he blinked at me sleepily. “Did it go all right?” he asked slowly.
“Yes,” I told him, faking the brightness in my voice and failing miserably. “Don’t say I never did anything for you, okay?”
He stared at me for so long, I fidgeted, thinking I’d done something wrong.
“I didn’t want her to make you mad and ruin your day,” I tried to explain.
Aaron took a step forward and then another and another until he stopped in front of me, and lightning quick, his hands came up to my face, cupping my cheeks in those rough, broad palms. A small smile had started covering his mouth at some point. Right before he kissed each of my cheeks with that perfect mouth, he said, “Have I told you today how happy I am you’re here?”
“Jasmine, Jasmine, listen to me—”
“Nope.”
“I’m not joking. If your thunder thighs”—she didn’t have anything close to huge legs. Jasmine’s were the stuff people’s dreams were made of. Strong, athletic legs that looked great in everything and nothing. But I wasn’t about to compliment her—“rip my tights, I’ll give you bangs like I did when we were kids, remember that?”
There was a pause, and I’m sure even though she couldn’t genuinely remember asking me to cut her hair when she was five, and the awful haircut that had followed, it had been well-documented by our mom in picture form. She knew it had happened. Then my little sister made her decision. “I’ll risk the bangs. I’m wearing your tights. Bye, Squirt.”
And then she hung up on me.
All I could do was basically cough out a laugh in surprise, when I shouldn’t have been surprised at all.
“What are you cracking up about?”
I was still smiling as I turned in the seat to find Aaron standing at the doorway with a beer and a bottle of water in each palm. Reaching toward the chair he usually sat in, I patted the armrest as I answered his question. “Jasmine had texted me asking where I had some of my tights, so I called her to ask why she was asking. One thing led to another and I threated to cut her hair if she wore them and ripped them. Then she just said ‘bye, Squirt’ and hung up on me.”
“Are they special… tights? What are tights again?”
“Basically pantyhose.” I smiled at him. “The ones she was looking for have cats on them. I think she’s going on a date if she’s asking.”
Aaron nodded as he sat down, the hand with the water bottle extending in my direction. I took it. “Cat pantyhose, huh?”
“Cat pantyhose.”
“That’s cute.”
What was I supposed to say after that? “I have some with elephants on them too.”
He raised an eyebrow as he lifted the bottle of his beer to that mouth that had touched various places on my face the night before. “I’d like to see those.”
It was times like that I wished I actually had some experience flirting, instead of losing my words and not knowing what to say. “Hopefully one day you can,” I said, unsure if that was too presumptuous or not.
But the smile he gave me said it wasn’t. “One day,” he confirmed.
I opened my mouth and closed it. Questions had been plaguing me while we’d been out doing a little more scalloping for a couple of hours and then when we’d spent the afternoon cleaning our catch under the carport using tablespoons. I’d even thought about my questions while I’d showered and eaten lunch. And then while helping Aaron make dinner, my head filled to the point where it felt like I’d burst. I knew I wasn’t being very graceful or classy or mysterious. The truth was, I wasn’t any of those things. I liked people being upfront with me with their expectations and thoughts. I wasn’t so good at picking up hints or trying to play games with people. So I just did it. I just asked Aaron. “What exactly does this mean? You and me?”
His eyebrows went up as his lips left the rim of the bottle and he swallowed thoughtfully, one of his bare feet coming up to rest on the opposite knee. “Whatever you want it to, Ru.”
That wasn’t helping any. “What does that mean?”
Aaron smiled.
“I don’t want to… take things out of proportion. Does that make sense?” I asked him hesitantly, his smile crumbling into a smaller one as his eyes narrowed.
“How would you take it out of proportion?”
Why was this conversation making me itchy and restless? “Like maybe we both really like each other, but you still want to be single—”
“No.”
I shot him a look and continued with my examples even though I didn’t want to. “Like maybe you like me, but when we’re not together, we go our own ways and date other—”