Page 117 of First-Time Caller
But Aiden doesn’t have a pendant or a locket. He just has a thin empty key ring looped on a gold chain. The kind you find on a backpack or a house key. Something that holds something else together.
“Not what you expected?” he asks.
I shake my head, examining the small worn-down ring. Some of the metal is faded in spots. Silver instead of gold.
“My mom got it for me at a—at a hospital gift shop,” he tells me, tripping over his words. He plucks the ring out of my fingers and looks at it, thumb smoothing over one of the curves. “It used to have a compass on it, I think? Maybe a boat? I forget. It was something cheap and it fell off fast. Within a day or two.”
“But you kept it?”
“Yeah, I kept it.” He tucks it beneath his shirt again and pats it once. “It’s good luck. When the charm fell off, I shoved it in my jeans pocket and left it there for a . . . long time.”
“Define a long time.”
“Three weeks? I think?”
“Did you forget about it?” He nods. “Were you . . . not doing laundry at this point in your life?”
“I was a teenager. Of course not.”
He was a teenager and his mom was in the hospital with cancer, probably not for the first time. I think of a tall, lanky boy with messy hair, thumb rubbing over a cheap key chain.
I grip his hand with mine and Aiden smiles, something tentative in his face.
“When I had the key ring with me, there was good news. When I didn’t, it was—it was bad news. I left it at home once, and she didn’t—” He shakes his head and looks down at the floor. He swallows twice. I don’t know if he even realizes how hard he’s squeezing my hand. “So I started wearing it around my neck,” he continues. “Haven’t taken it off since.”
I study him carefully.What was the good news?I want to ask.What was the bad news?I’ve peeled back one corner of the paper Aiden keeps himself wrapped in and I want to tear the rest off. I spread my fingers wide against his side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.
“That’s really sweet.”
His smile tilts to the left, one side of his mouth hitching higher than the other. “You sound surprised.”
“I’m not. You’re a sweet guy.”
He immediately scowls. “Am not.”
I pinch his side and he grips my wrist, tugging me tighter against him. I don’t know if he wants me closer or he wants to keep me from pinching him again. Either way, I like it, and I relax in his grip. Something dark and hungry flashes in his eyes before he tucks it away, somewhere in that filing cabinet mind of his with the rest of his secrets and subdued reactions.
I might not know a lot of the details about Aiden, but I know the broad strokes. The parts that shine the brightest through the armor he wraps himself in. Despite his protests to the contrary, he is kind. He’s thoughtful and disarmingly funny. In a dry, gruff way. He wouldn’t have started a romance hotline if he didn’t want to hand out hope and comfort. He’s rough at the edges sometimes, but he cares. He cares deeply.
He just doesn’t know how to share it.
“I’m onto you,” I tell him. “You can’t hide from me.”
His lips quirk up. “I really can’t, can I?”
I shake my head. “Nope.” I loop both arms around him and squeeze. I rest my chin in the middle of his chest, staring up at him. “What did you do with your seven minutes?”
Aiden’s eyes are stuck on my mouth. “What?”
My belly flips. I’ve always liked the way Aiden looks at me, but it’s like the closet unlocked a different part of him. Or gave him permission for something else, I don’t know. He’s been looking at me like he’s at the very edge of his control. Like he’d like nothing more than to press me up against the nearest flat surface.
Sex for me has always been . . . fine. A few fumbling, awkward encounters through the years have convinced me that maybe it’s just not something I enjoy. And that’s okay. I know what I like and what I don’t and I’ve been able to meet the needs of my body. I manage just fine.
But then I spent fifteen frenzied minutes in a broom closet with Aiden and apparently it’s not fine. Because he made me feel things I’ve only heard about secondhand from Patty during our wine and cookie nights. I’ve never come that quickly in my life, all without removing a single stitch of clothing.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
I want to see what else Aiden can make me feel. I want more fun.
