Home > Final Call (Call #2)(15)

Final Call (Call #2)(15)
Author: Emma Hart

I sigh. “I do trust you, Aaron. As a person, I do. But I just don’t know if I trust you with my heart again.”

“I’ll prove you can.” He softly touches his lips to mine. “I don’t deserve this second chance, but I’m going to make every second of it worthwhile. For the both of us.”

“Deserve it or not, you were going to take it,” I mutter. “Easy way or the hard way. I know when to pick my battles.”

“Oh yes. Because I wholeheartedly believe you aren’t going to fight me every step of the way.”

I follow him into the kitchen and nod when he pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge. “I will never stop fighting you. It’s way too fun.”

He places the glass in front of me. “I know.”

“Crap. I drove to your office. My car is still in the parking lot.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I’ll drive it back tomorrow.”

I curl my fingers around the stem and watch him as he pulls a clean glass and pours two fingers of amber liquid.

“Aaron?”

“Dayton?”

“I’m still mad at you. Really, really mad.”

He smirks. “I know.”

***

My thumb hovers over the screen of my cell. The green call button taunts me, challenging me. If I press it, I’ll be making a huge decision. Something that could potentially change my life.

I take a deep breath, throwing caution to the wind, and press the button.

It rings.

And it rings.

And it rings.

Monique’s voicemail cuts in, her sharp voice telling me to leave a message and she’ll get back to me. The beep is harsh and seems louder than usual, as if it’s giving me an extra half second to make my choice.

“Monique.” I pause. “Cancel Aaron’s payments. I’m still off the books, but I don’t want him to pay for it. You understand.”

I hang up and drop my phone on the bed. I stare at it for a long time, and my hands tremble as I wring them in front of my body.

I either just made a really smart move or a really stupid one.

Time to start finding out.

Chapter Seven

I always know when he’s looking at me. My skin hums when he walks into a room, but his gaze makes it burn. It’s always hot and heavy, laden with raw want and desire.

It’s amazing how something so small and simple can hold so much weight. How it can take your breath away in a split second. His eyes have always had this effect on me—this mesmerizing feeling that stills my whole world until he looks away again.

I bite the inside of my lip as I pull some underwear on. He’s filling the doorway of the spare bedroom, his arms resting on either side of it and his legs crossed at the ankles. I’m trying to ignore the way his dark jeans are hanging low on his hips, his belt forgotten, the band of his boxer briefs peeking above the waistband of the denim.

Trying to ignore the way that ‘v’ curves over his hips and dips teasingly below them.

I’m not doing a very good job.

I pull a tank over my head and tie the string on my shorts before turning. His lips are curved into a smirk, and his eyes are sparkling.

“Those shorts are practically underwear,” he says, a hint of huskiness coming through his voice.

“Tell that to Victoria’s Secret.” I tap his arm and he drops it, allowing me to step by him.

“Believe me, sweetheart. I have no plans to tell Victoria’s Secret a damn thing.”

I glance over my shoulder, and his gaze is fixed firmly on my butt. I roll my eyes and pull the fridge open. “I didn’t think you would.” My eyes skirt across the shelves. “Why is your fridge half empty? And why is none of the food in it actually edible?”

I shut the door again and turn. He leans forward on the bar, bent at the waist. The muscles in his arms flex, and I blink harshly to pull my own gaze from his body. Jesus. The man awakens some kind of crazy primal attraction inside me that means I’m addicted to staring at his body.

“Because,” he says with amusement, “I don’t eat much at home. If I’m not out for dinner, I’m ordering something at the office. Keeping edible food at home seems pointless when it’ll merely rot.”

“And I suppose you never factored in the fact I might want to eat.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Well, for someone so presumptuous and certain of everything, I would have thought he’d have prepared for my basic needs.”

“I was more focused on your other basic needs.” His eyes flick to my hips and back up again.

“They’re not basic needs. They’re extracurricular needs.”

“This is where men and women differ, Dayton. To me, exploring your body and making you come in my arms is absolutely a basic need.”

“For you.” I turn and swallow, grabbing an empty glass from the cupboard. “Food is a basic need for me.”

“So I’ll order in.”

His cell rings on his words.

“Hello? Mom… No, no, I didn’t forget. I just, uh, I have company… Yes, Dayton’s here... Yes, I know.”

I spin back, and his face is creased into a pained expression. I can hear the buzz of his mom’s voice on the other end of the line, and by the way Aaron’s bringing his shoulder to his ear in an extended wince, I’d guess she’s giving him a few choice words.

“Mom… Okay, hang on.” He covers the mouthpiece and mouths, “Fuck,” with his eyes closed. After a quiet sigh, he opens his eyes again and looks at me. “Dayton, my mother would like to know if you’d care to join us for dinner tonight.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” I bring my glass to my lips in an attempt to hide my teasing smile.

Aaron catches it anyway. “You could never intrude. In fact, I think Mom would love it if you’d join us.”

“In that case, I’d be happy to.”

He brings the phone back to his ear. “Add another reservation. I’ll see you in an hour.”

I watch as he places the cell facedown and rubs a hand down his face.

“Fuck. I forgot they were here this weekend.”

“Gosh, Aaron, I can feel your delight from here.”

He looks at me flatly. “Tonight will be close to hell for me. In fact, it’s probably better you’re there. Then they’ll be a little politer.”

I follow him into his bedroom, leaving the glass on the bar. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

Almost as soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize. Our situation is awkward to say the least.

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