Damn. Why was Saturday so far away?
As soon as I climbed out of the car, I pulled my phone from my purse. There were several messages from clients that I’d missed while hanging out with Bowen and at least six from Aaron all with various degrees of “Where the hell are you?” But seeing as Aaron’s Lexus was parked next to my SUV in the driveway, I decided to text Bowen first.
Me: I’m home.
His reply was almost instantaneous.
Bowen: Good. Now try to get some sleep.
Me: You too. Thanks again.
Bowen: No need to keep thanking me. The pleasure was all mine.
I wasn’t sure I agreed with that. The way he’d pressed me against the car, his mouth moving over mine, his hands teasing my sides… Well, it was all pretty damn pleasurable for me. I didn’t feel the need to tell him any of that though. I was still grinning like a maniac when I walked into the house.
Aaron, on the other hand, was not.
“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, suddenly sitting up on the couch, his plaid pajama pants sticking out from under a throw blanket.
I curled my lip. “Oh, hi, Aaron. So good to see you too.”
“Don’t give me that crap. I was worried.”
I smiled. It seemed to be a running theme for the evening. Though, as twisted as it might have been, I liked the idea of Bowen worrying about me. With Aaron, it was just annoying.
I lifted my hands and turned in a circle. “As you can see, I’m fine. I had some…work I needed to finish up.”
“I called your office.”
Uninterested in playing a game of whose day was it to watch me, I gave up. “Okay, fine. You caught me. I was out with a wildly attractive man who kissed me breathless and awoke a sexual desire within me that I never knew existed.”
He rolled his eyes. “So you’re just not going to tell me at all?”
I laughed at the irony and kicked my shoes off as I walked over to the couch. Flopping down beside him, I gave the blanket a hard tug. “So, what are we watching?”
He glared at me for a few more seconds but eventually scooted over, fluffing the blanket so it covered both of us. “I was trying to call you because the settlement amounts came out tonight.”
I swung my head in his direction. “What? Tonight? I thought they wouldn’t be ready for at least another week?”
He shrugged. “I think they want this over. I ended up with six hundred thousand dollars.”
My jaw unhinged. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. My thoughts exactly. You should check your email.”
It had never been about the money for us. Aaron and I had agreed from the start that a good portion we were awarded from the settlement would go right back to a fund for the families of those who had lost their lives. There were too many children who had lost parents, husbands and wives widowed, and families torn apart to ever benefit from the profit of their losses.
As a group of twenty-seven survivors, we’d decided the money should be divided on a sliding scale and allowed our attorneys to hire an outside company to objectively make those decisions. Those who were injured the worst and would likely require long-term if not permanent care would receive the most compensation. Aaron had been one of the few to walk away with minor injuries, so six hundred thousand dollars was far more than he’d been expecting. However, I had convinced him to submit the records from his therapists. Not all injuries were diagnosed in the emergency room. Survivor’s guilt was a very real condition for him.
I hooked my arm with my best friend’s and leaned my head on his shoulder. His anxiety when I’d gotten home suddenly made a lot more sense. A pang of guilt hit me when I realized he’d been alone when he read that email all because I’d been too preoccupied with Bowen to answer his texts.
Shit. Bowen.
Based on the time stamp on my email, they’d been sent while the two of us had been flirting and eating pizza. He hadn’t so much as touched his phone when we’d been together. That meant he too was going to be opening the email alone—if he hadn’t already.
It wasn’t the day to talk about the plane crash. I’d already crossed the line by mentioning his fiancée before I’d left. It had led to a smoldering kiss, but I didn’t think checking up on him and opening that door after he’d so clearly told me he wasn’t ready was going to garner me the same results this time. But I couldn’t very well ignore the fact that he too was a survivor.
I offered Aaron a tight smile. “You want a glass of wine?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I already took my meds, so I’ll have to settle for another cucumber water.” He swiveled, retrieved a glass from the end table, and then passed it my way.
