Am I?
I rinse out the glass and push all thoughts out of my mind. The only thing that matters is how much I want to see him.
By the time Aidan arrives, I’m nearly convinced that I imagined his call. When I open the door and see him on the other side, I almost burst into tears.
He steps into the apartment and closes the door behind him. His eyes sweep the sparse living room, then he turns back to look at me, his gaze dark with an intensity that reaches deep inside me. My eyes roam his face, waiting.
He takes a deep breath. “I want to be with you,” he says quietly.
“Aidan…”
He cuts me off. “No. I know you plan to leave. I know this is all temporary for you. But for now, even though I’m angry, and confused, I can’t keep pretending that I haven’t dreamed of being with you like this again, all these years.”
Why am I so disappointed? I feel like deep inside, I had been hoping for a grand declaration, a laying of his heart at my feet, no matter what.
“You’re not going to ask me to stay?”
His eyes flare. “That’s up to you, Liz. Stay or leave if you want. Do what makes you happy.” His chest rises. “What I want is to be with you, for as long as I can. And if it’s only for two minutes or two days, then I plan to make the most of it.”
I swallow, wishing I had another glass of wine. “And here I thought you planned to convince me of how much I mean to you. How much you want us to work this time.”
He cocks his head to one side. “Is that what you want? For me to beg? Why? Will it give you some vicarious pleasure to crush me all over again?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He strokes a finger along my cheek and brushes his thumb across my lower lip, his eyes igniting when I let out a sigh of pleasure at the small touch. “Let’s not pretend that you ever intended to make us work,” he murmurs. “There’s a lot more we can do instead.”
“Like sex.”
His response is a smile, then he draws me close, bringing my face to his, and covering my lips with his own.
His kiss is tender and sweet. He teases my lips apart with an expertise that’s almost diabolical. I close my eyes, losing myself to sensations. If this is all I can get, then I’ll take it, for now.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asks when he releases my lips.
Almost too eagerly, I lead him to my room. It’s as soulless as the rest of the apartment. Aidan takes in the bare walls, the expensive but impersonal furniture.
“You don’t live here much.”
I shrug, a little defensive. “I hardly ever came to New York, and I stayed over at my dad’s most of the time anyway. This place was just an excuse to tell myself that I still lived here.
He looks at me. “Why?”
“I wasn’t ready to let go.”
His eyes pierce mine, searching, the silent question in them urging me to tell him again that I never wanted us to end, that I still don’t.
What’s the point? He didn’t believe me before. He won’t believe me now.
“Come here, Liz.” His voice is low.
I go into his arms and he captures my lips again. His body is warm and hard. I let my hands drift over his chest, feeling his muscles bunch underneath my touch. I unbutton his shirt and slide it off. He tugs off his white undershirt, revealing the smooth and perfect expanse of his chest. Sighing, I place a kiss on one hard slab of muscle.
He groans softly and reaches for my dress, pulling it over my head. My bra and panties soon follow. His hands move over my skin, caressing, stroking every single inch.
“I can’t stop wanting you.” His voice is a low murmur.
It hurts to know that he has tried. I close my eyes, focusing on how good it feels to be in his arms. For now, it has to be enough that he wants me enough to forget how much he hates me. “Show me.”