Pillowtalk

by Cassie Mae

  “I can usually keep it to myself. But storms make me on edge, and you’re just so easy to relax around. It’s just all spilling out. Like I have no filter.”

  “Yes,” Aaron agreed a little too readily. “I’m having the same problem, believe it or not.”

  “Good, then I’ll be honest.” She sucked in another breath. “It’s not just the storm. It’s…well, it’s getting late. This was my time with Jared.” Her hand drifted softly over Charlie as he shifted once again on her lap. It was getting easier and easier for Aaron to close the gap between them. He hadn’t even realized he’d been scooting closer. Or had she been the one moving toward him?

  “I miss talking with Jared, but most of all…I miss the pillowtalk. So I talk to him like he’s still there next to me while I drift off to sleep. Like he never left.” She looked longingly at the urn. “But he did. Logically, I know that, and every time I’m met with silence at the other end of the conversation, it just…well, it makes me hurt all over again.”

  Her frown set an alarm off in Aaron’s head, and he curled his fingers into a fist to keep them from doing what they wanted—to reach out and comfort her in any way he could. Her honesty was so…inspiring. Real. And he hardly felt worthy of being the person to hear it.

  He swallowed hard, but it did nothing to keep his next words from tumbling off his lips. “I get it. Not in the same degree, of course, but…I’d give anything to talk to him just one more time. To tell him I’m sorry.” He let out a long breath. “I never really took the chance when I had it.”

  The pinch between her eyes would have been insanely adorable if Aaron weren’t so distracted by his thoughts. He scratched at his chin, his finger bumping over his scar. “How much did Jared talk about Lyra Valley?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Not a lot. He liked to live in the present.” Her teeth sneaked out and pulled at her bottom lip. “He told me about the lake, the dirt bike hills, the B&B…but he rarely talked about the people. I don’t think he mentioned anyone outside of his family.”

  “No wonder…” he mused. “Are you still overwhelmed by everyone?”

  “A bit.” Her head tilted to the side, and she ran a hand over Charlie’s back. “Not at all right now.”

  Aaron scolded his heart for the hopeful leap it took at her flattering words. “We had a graduating class of fifty,” he told her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Out of those fifty, four of us stayed in Lyra after graduation. It wasn’t unusual, either; everyone wanted to fly out of here. More opportunities, college, life…you know.”

  She nodded, leaning forward as well. He held his breath for a moment, debating letting in on the secret the one person in a five-hundred-mile radius who didn’t know about what he’d done. No one else held it against him, at least to his face, or over time they’d found more important things to hold a grudge about. But would she?

  Maybe it would be fair if she did.

  “Jared and I took a gap year. He didn’t apply to any colleges, and I had an open invitation to MIT that I planned on taking the following year. Then there was Austin, and he took a job at the garage run by Jared’s dad.” Aaron paused to make sure his voice was still steady. “And then there was Lissa.”

  There was a flash of recognition in her soft, brown eyes, and Aaron realized he’d uttered a name that Jared had voiced to Kennedy at some point. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she asked, “Jared’s ex-girlfriend?”

  “So he did mention someone from here.”

  “I didn’t know when he dated her. She was just on the list.” She waved a hand through the air. “You know, the standard talk of how many people you’ve…” Her neck turned red as Aaron bit away a laugh. “Yeah, you get it. Sorry. Go on.”

  He let his gaze drift to the rug beneath his feet. “Well…Lissa, she…made my list, too.”

  He couldn’t find the strength to look at Kennedy’s reaction. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He involuntarily flinched as if preparing for a verbal—or literal—slap, but when he was met with silence, he chanced a glance up.

  She sat as curious as she’d been the entire conversation, only her lips were turned down in the corners. Not in anger…No, it felt more like pity.

  He shook his head, not knowing why he was disappointed at her lack of anger toward him. “I should’ve told him how I felt. Or I should’ve snuffed out the feeling altogether. Jared…I mean, he was a lot more forward than I was. When it was the four of us after graduation, we both grew close to Lissa, and she was close to us. He went for her first, of course. I tried to back off, but…I failed.”

  Kennedy leaned even more toward him, her hand outstretched as if she wanted to touch him, but she thought better of it and let it drop to the dog. Aaron furrowed his brow at the motion, confused by the response.

  “I came clean almost right after it happened, but that didn’t change what I’d done.”

  “You didn’t do it alone,” she offered up, something he hadn’t heard before, surprisingly. “She was his girlfriend at the time, right? That’s what you’re saying?”

  He nodded. “I was his best friend.” He buried his head in his hands, his glasses crushing the bridge of his nose. He refused to let anyone, let alone Jared’s most recent love, convince him that what happened was excusable. “When he didn’t accept my apology, I got defensive. I told him that I loved her…and maybe I thought I meant it at the time, but I didn’t. I had no clue what that kind of love was. He said he loved her, and he probably did. We fought over her, put her in the position of having to choose. In the end, we all lost. She said she loved us both equally, he lost her, and I lost…well, I lost him.”

  Kennedy licked her lips. “You know…I thought he loved her, too,” she said. “Something in the way his eyes fell whenever she was mentioned. But…well, now I’m not so sure.”

  Aaron turned his head, resting it on his knuckles. “Why’s that?”

  “I see the same look in your eyes right now. I think he loved you.”

  A humorless laugh drifted off his lips, his throat feeling thick and heavy. As much as he wanted to believe her, he didn’t. He couldn’t. “No…I tried calling him, see. It’d been years, but it still ate at me. Still does. Anyway, he thought I was only calling because he was, as he put it, on his deathbed. But I didn’t know.” Aaron hung his head. “I didn’t know. I thought he was exaggerating. No one told me about his cancer. I only found out when it happened…when he died.”

  He gulped away at the emotion that was breaking through. He remembered that call like it was yesterday—the harsh words that were spoken, the wound being torn fresh open. Then, just three weeks later, his former best friend was gone.

  A tentative touch to his chin coaxed his eyes upward, the sensation different from their previous touches, yet not unpleasant. Kennedy’s lips twitched, and she withdrew her hand, settling it back on Charlie.

  “Now I’m certain that it was you he loved.”

  He chuckled. “You have an impressive amount of faith in people. Even ones who don’t deserve it.”

  She let out a long sigh, slinking back into the cushions. Her lips pressed together as her eyes wandered over him, and he wondered if he looked as pathetic as he felt. He ached to know if she was only being civil, or if she honestly wasn’t that upset over how he’d hurt Jared. He couldn’t imagine it being the latter.

  After a moment, she snatched up the urn and pushed it out at him. “Apologize.”

  He sat back. “What?”

  “You wanted to apologize. Here.” She shook the urn. “I will loan him out for the rest of the evening.”

  Chuckles rose from the deepest parts of his gut. He wasn’t sure he wanted to touch the urn, so he only shook his head instead of coaxing it back to the coffee table. “Maybe later. When you are very much asleep.”

  “Don’t want a woman to see you get all emotional?” she teased, but she set the urn back down.

  “Yes,” he wholeheartedly admitted. “That is exactly it.”
He patted Charlie, who was now sound asleep between them. “I will say I’m sorry to you, though.”

  She jerked back. “Me? What for?”

  He thought about the way he’d frozen her out at times…but he couldn’t apologize for that, because he intended on doing those very things when the power came back on. So he opted for the other thing he felt the need to apologize for.

  “For hurting the person you loved.”

  A smile crossed her lips briefly before an unexpected wall of tears rose in those dark, beautiful eyes. Careful not to wake the sleeping pup, she rose to her knees, making Aaron’s heart race under his cotton T-shirt. Her arms came around his shoulders, her body warm and soft, her touch a pleasant, comforting caress. Aaron lifted his hands to her waist, sliding them around her petite frame, accepting the undeserved hug, though he knew it could very well be the end of him.

  “You are forgiven,” she said in a voice that was half-tease, half-genuine. Aaron grinned over her shoulder, burying his face into the space by her neck for just a moment. The deadly combination of coconut and lemon scent had his mouth pooling.

  The second her hold loosened, Aaron took the hint and dropped his as well. Kennedy sat back on her knees, her face flushed, but brightly lit despite the dim light of the room. “I think I’m ready to raid that pantry now.”

  He laughed, grateful for the change in subject and sense of purpose that would take his mind off how incredible she’d felt in his arms. He pushed off the couch and grabbed a flashlight, twirling it in his hand. “Keep your eyes out for Marshmallow Fluff,” he teased. “It’s a rare find around here.”

  Chapter 8

  Kennedy

  Kennedy stirred in and out of sleep, part of her aware that she was not in her own bed and the other part too tired to move even if that were the case. Something warm and fuzzy covered her, heavier than a blanket, but softer than one as well. A smile flickered across her sleepy lips, and she stretched, wrapping her arms around whatever she was holding. A warm breeze touched her face as the world rocked underneath her, and her brows pulled inward, but her mind was too far gone to wonder what either sensations were. She only clung tighter to the comfortable position.

  It had been such a confusing, yet enlightening, evening. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep; she talked with Aaron well into the night, perhaps even into early morning. Besides learning about his falling-out with Jared, she had learned more about the good times. It seemed Aaron was thrilled, and maybe a little relieved, to finally remember Jared in a way that wasn’t marred by the one mistake in a lifetime of what sounded like good choices. Kennedy couldn’t get enough, and she’d sat upright, wide-eyed, filled to the brim with something she hadn’t felt in quite some time—joy. It was so nice to talk of Jared without feeling empty and alone, and it felt good to talk of other things as well. Aaron had asked her about how she got into editing, how different her childhood was compared to his….They’d gotten emotional at times, but mostly they’d laughed.

  She’d laughed a lot.

  It felt good to laugh again.

  The world rocked under her once more, and she tucked into the warmth under her cheek, inhaling a scent of citrus and nutmeg. Even half-asleep, Kennedy could appreciate the spicy male scent, something that had started fading away from the clothing she kept of Jared’s, much to her dismay.

  She buried herself even further, relishing in the freshness of the smell, an uncontrollable soft moan escaping her as she indulged. Something strong and warm twitched against her waist, and it was then that her mind woke up.

  Bang!

  Kennedy shot up, and Charlie, who’d been lying on top of her, howled straight into the air. Aaron’s strong and surprisingly comfortable body shifted underneath her, and she stared down at him from her hovering position, warmth creeping into her cheeks.

  “Seriously, God must think he’s real funny,” they heard Chelsea say from the doorway. Kennedy scrambled off Aaron’s torso as he adjusted to a sitting position, both of them sharing an embarrassed and amused glance at the way they’d ended up sometime during the night. Kennedy reached up to fix her hair, just for something to do with her hands, her neck flushed with heat and her stomach full of winged creatures. She refused to look directly at Aaron but could catch him taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes in her peripheral vision. Even out of the corner of her eye, he was simply beautiful. She was allowed to appreciate that, right?

  “Oh good, you guys are awake,” Chelsea said as she turned the corner and found them in—thankfully—a less compromising position than they’d been in not ten seconds before. “Our truck is stuck back at the mile marker. A hunk of a tree is blocking the road, and we could use all the help we can get to get rid of it.” Her eyes turned briefly to Daniel and her two boys, Joshua and Grant, as they dragged their feet behind her and into the kitchen. Kennedy frowned at how exhausted they all looked. Even Chelsea, who was talking a mile a minute, had droopy eyes, and her feet lacked her usual spunk.

  Aaron covered a yawn and shook his head out of it. “I’ll give Austin a call.”

  “Sawyer, too,” Chelsea requested. “We’ve actually got a full guest list for this weekend, and of course this happens. Doesn’t God understand that we need some money, yeah? Can’t make it easy.” Her eyes fell to Kennedy’s very guilt-ridden expression. “None of that,” she said with her pointer finger. “You’re family. You stay for free.”

  “I could—” Kennedy started to offer, but quieted when Chelsea shot her another stern look.

  “No. Jared would drop straight out of heaven and take me back with him if I asked you to pay.”

  She felt Aaron silently chuckle next to her, and something buzzed under her skin as his shirt brushed her arm. He cleared his throat and pushed up off the couch. Kennedy wasn’t sure why she did it, but she stood up with him, almost as if they were a united front. The thought made her heart jump in surprise, and she quickly wrapped up that traitorous heart and tied it tightly with a bow. It was not for sale.

  “We’ll get it taken care of,” he said. “You guys should get some sleep.”

  Chelsea shook her head, not bothering to cover her yawn. “We’ll be okay. Gotta clear that road ASAP.”

  “Chels…” Now it was Aaron who delivered the stern look, and Kennedy’s eyes widened at the surprising sex appeal the demanding expression gave him. She bit her lip and blinked her gaze away so she wasn’t tempted to do something her heart was definitely not ready for, even though her body was screaming for it.

  Chelsea let out a long sigh, obviously too tired to argue. “We’ll be there to help in an hour. No less, understand?”

  Aaron nodded, but Kennedy assumed he agreed only to avoid an argument as well. He stepped around her, his plaid overshirt brushing her elbow as he passed, and there her body went again—even his clothing sending shock waves through her skin. He pressed a kiss to Chelsea’s forehead before stepping into the kitchen. Kennedy heard the low, baritone voices of the men talking, and she offered up a smile to Chelsea.

  “Do you want me to make you guys breakfast or anything?”

  Chelsea let out a tired chuckle. “Thank you, but no. I don’t think I can keep my eyes open much longer. Crammed in a truck with two little boys and one grown boy didn’t provide me with a restful night.”

  Kennedy laughed, nodding as she crossed the room. “Sleep. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  Chelsea’s lips tilted up in appreciation, and she patted Kennedy’s arm before turning toward the back rooms. Joshua and Grant followed immediately after, and a few minutes later, Daniel made his way to bed once he was done talking with Aaron.

  Kennedy swallowed hard, attempting a smile as Aaron leaned against the wall in the entryway. He was giving her a half grin that made her toes curl against the hardwood floor. Had something changed between them? Or was he back to his frozen ways now that the lights had come back on? She waited with bated breath, ashamed that she even cared at all.

&
nbsp; “You wanna help out?” he asked. She blinked a few times before responding.

  “With the tree?”

  He nodded. “Don’t have to, of course. But…uh…Austin sounded like he was looking forward to talking with you again.”

  “Austin.” She didn’t try to hide the skepticism in her voice. Aaron’s head fell back against the wall as he laughed, his eyes dead set on the ceiling in embarrassment.

  “Maybe I am, too.”

  Kennedy tugged at her hoodie, her pulse pattering in a frenzy. “I’m not sure how much help I’d be.”

  Aaron waved the thought off. “Don’t worry about that. There will be so many people there.”

  “How many people did you call?”

  “Word gets out in a small town. And when Chelsea needs help, everyone comes running.” He grinned at the surprise on Kennedy’s face. “You’ll see.”

  She tilted an eyebrow, debating taking him up on the offer. Jared’s ashes stood on the coffee table behind her, and though she didn’t have her eyes on it, she knew it was there, felt as if he was there still. Should she be playing with fire, especially one as increasingly dangerous as Aaron was? Her natural responses seemed to be beaten down every time by some outside force that she didn’t quite understand. Like last night, when she’d been resolute in staying up in her room, something outside of the storm convinced her that moving downstairs would be the better decision.

  But that was nothing compared to the feeling she got when Aaron opened up about his past with Jared. What kind of friend sleeps with his best friend’s girlfriend? Her automatic response was to be repulsed by it, but somehow she’d found herself saying the complete opposite. And in hindsight, she felt the opposite as well. Like something or someone was screaming for her to understand, to forgive, to help him move on from it.

  As a friend, of course.

  “Let me change?” she asked, her voice still unsure if she was doing the smart thing.

  Aaron nodded, and a smile spread on his lips, but he, too, looked unsure about the decision. Kennedy took a deep breath, slid her hands around the urn, and hurried up the stairs, looking back only once. Aaron had a hand in his tousled brown hair, scratching and pulling at it. She frowned and continued to her room. Apparently guilt would always be their third wheel, and only the heavens knew whom it would roll over and flatten first.