I’d be fooling myself if I tried to deny that on the first leg of the drive, I taken some sneaky glances to my left. Neither one of us had said much yet. When I hadn’t been busy looking at Aaron, I’d been focused on the scenery outside the window, eating up the darkening landscape that was so different from what I was used to back in Houston.
Most importantly, as we sat facing one another, I was smiling at him cautiously and he was giving me that smirking little smile that seemed like it had secrets stitched in some compartment below his practically flawless skin. If he had pores or blemishes, I hadn’t been able to see a single one… and I’d looked.
Luckily, Aaron wasn’t as quiet as I was, because it was him who finally broke our silence with his elbows on the table we shared. He had his chin on his hand, not looking at all like he’d driven hours on end to get to the beach house and then had to drive to get me.
“You look really tired,” was what he decided to start off with.
I blinked and bit down on my bottom lip as I struggled not to take that as an insult. “Do I?”
The corners of his mouth flexed upward just a bit, a smirk hiding in plain sight. “You know what I mean.”
Uh.
His mouth lost the battle when that quiet laugh of his came out. “You know what I mean.”
Raising an eyebrow, I nodded enthusiastically, trying not to smile and mostly failing at it. “You’re saying I look like hell.”
One of those hands that had been on my knees less than an hour ago palmed a lean cheek. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
I squinted at him that time and tipped my head to the side. “Pretty sure that’s what it seems like you’re saying.”
“It’s not,” he argued, his gaze still totally focused on me.
I wrinkled my nose. “It’s okay. I haven’t slept much the last two nights thanks to someone I know. I’m sure I do look like hell.”
That had him groaning as he seemed to push his chair closer to the table from the scrape of wood on tile. “I didn’t say you look like hell. You just look tired.”
I’m not going to smile. I’m not going to smile. “There’s a difference?”
He cocked his head to the side and made his eyes go wide as he nodded. Apparently it was his turn to bring out the sass. “Yeah.”
Aaron stared at me and I stared back at him.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm,” he repeated.
I smirked and he smirked right back.
This really was just like our conversations online. It relaxed me. Made me feel better about… everything. “If you say so.” I held back a grin, snickering before letting out a yawn I tried my best to muffle but failed at. Wanting things to be as normal as they could be, I fidgeted with my hands, trying to think of what to ask him. Of all the things I could have brought up, I went with, “How was your drive?”
Those muscular shoulders I hadn’t gotten to ogle much yet both went up casually. “Fine.” The hand, the one he wasn’t using to cup the side of his face, reached blindly toward his beer. Those brown, brown eyes still hadn’t left my direction. “Your flight was okay?”
“Besides having an old man use my shoulder as a pillow, and having my mom yell at me before I walked out of the house, everything was good.”
He groaned and it made me think of all the times he’d typed out something that conveyed the same emotion, making this all seem so much more real by the second. More safe. “She was pissed?” he asked.
I wouldn’t say she was pissed, but…. “You can call it that.”
The corners of his eyes wrinkled, and I wondered if the lines were from all the time he spent outside or if it was from him smiling. “She doesn’t know me. I’d be surprised if she wasn’t worried I’d kidnap you and sell you on the black market.” Those irises raked over me for what seemed like the hundredth time since he picked me up, making me feel just a hair self-conscious and grateful I’d hit the airport bathroom before I’d gone outside to wait for him. “She loves you. You’re lucky.”
How the hell he managed to say the same exact thing I thought was beyond me, but I let it go.
“Did you tell them you made it?”
I reached for my phone inside of my front pocket as I told him the truth. “Not yet. I forgot until now. Hold on.” It took two swipes, but I unlocked the screen once I had my cell out. The icon that said I had nineteen unread messages now, instantly made me cringe. They were thousands of miles away. It wasn’t like they were going to pop out of the display and holler at me when I read their messages. They were just being loving and worried, like a good family would. Like I would have done if it were any of them in my position, more than likely. This was what I got for never going through the rebel, hormonal teenager, jerk stage. I’d been the quiet one. The one who didn’t like getting into trouble, never got home late, never talked back, and spent most weekends LARPing or sneaking into the movie theater my friends had jobs at, when I wasn’t doing work for my aunt.
I’d always been the one who listened and tried to make everyone happy.
Until now.
I opened the first message and groaned.
“What does it say?” Aaron asked.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I told him. “These are all from my mom right now.”