Defining Love: Volume 2 (Defining Love #2)

by Elizabeth Reyes

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I said then mouthed the words “love you.”

  She mouthed them back then smiled with a wave.

  “Your roommate, right?” Aaron asked, eyeing Edi as I got in the front passenger side.

  “Yeah, that’s Edi.” I said, placing the bottled water I was carrying in the cup holder.

  “Where’s she headed?”

  “University hospital,” I said, pulling my seatbelt around me. “She interns there.”

  “That’s kind of far, isn’t it? And she’s walking?”

  I nodded, not thinking much of it. Edi had been doing it for months now. To my surprise, Aaron pulled the car over just as we were about to pass Edi.

  “Hey Edi,” he called out to her, leaning over me just enough to allow for a big whiff of the utterly unique and intoxicating scent of him. Another thing about him that could instantly turn me into a stuttering mess. “I can give you a lift to the hospital.”

  Without hesitation, Edi smiled and headed to the back door on my side. For a moment, I was actually able to snap out of my daze enough to feel bad that I hadn’t thought to ask Aaron if he could give her a ride. The hospital wasn’t on the way to his place, but it wasn’t too far off. I should’ve known he wouldn’t have minded.

  To my relief, I wasn’t forced to try to focus too soon because he addressed Edi most of the way, asking her about her internship. The distance to the hospital wasn’t very long, so Aaron hadn’t run out of things to ask Edi. Inwardly, I worried that the subject of our relationship might somehow come up.

  I hadn’t even realized it until Edi was out of the car and thanked Aaron for the ride that I was so tense. My hand had fisted the handle of the door so tightly my knuckles were actually white when I looked down. I waved goodbye and watched as she walked into the front sliding entrance door of the hospital, feeling the knot in my stomach ease up slightly. I was now feeling an altogether different kind of unease. It was no longer about the dread that Aaron might’ve picked up on something. It was the dread of knowing this is how I really felt about coming out to the world. I hated to admit it, but I had to now. I wasn’t sure if I ever would.

  I was okay being out in Edi’s world but not mine, the one with my friends and Gemma and people like Aaron. It killed me to think that maybe all this time I’d been right about what I’d been secretly worried about: that this relationship with Edi would only work if I lived what felt like a double life. For just a few minutes, our worlds collided, and I’d been in no way ready to deal with it. As happy and as excited as I’d been earlier, I was suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

  Reality had slapped me in the face without warning. I’d managed to push this worrisome part of my new life to the back of my mind long enough, but it was out there now. I kept saying I’d cross the bridge when I came to it—that eventually I’d be able to just be out and proud like Edi and her friends—but in the meantime I’d continue to separate both worlds. Bringing those two worlds together wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d pretended it would be.

  “Something wrong?” Aaron asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “No.”

  I overcompensated on the shaking of my head, and I saw him peer at me for a moment as we came to a red light. Unable to look at him anymore, I took a swig of my bottled water and glanced away.

  “So how long have you and Edi been together?”

  It happened so fast in an instant there was water sprayed all over his dash. I went into a coughing fit, barely able to catch my breath, before I realized he’d pulled over and killed the engine. He tapped my back gently and was lifting one of my arms. “Lift your other one,” he said calmly and soothingly, reminding me of the day I’d nearly fallen apart at his place.

  I did, feeling like a complete idiot as my cough attack subsided slowly. I was finally able to bring down one hand and take another swig of my water.

  “Drink it slowly,” he warned.

  I did—very slowly. Just like when I’d made a scene at his place on my first day, I felt mortified, but my mind was still on what he’d asked. Were Edi and I that obvious?

  “Better?” he asked as I took a deep breath.

  I nodded, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. The question was still out there lingering heavily in the air and waiting to be answered. Did he know? I wasn’t even sure how to get back on that subject or that I wanted to. But maybe this was a good thing. Maybe it was better that it was out in the open. I owed it to Edi, and it’d certainly lessen the overwhelming feelings of guilt that had been growing with every pitter-patter my heart did for Aaron.

  I cleared my throat after taking another slow sip of water. “Went down the wrong pipe,” I hoarsely explained the obvious, pointing at my water bottle.

  He smiled so sweetly I was grateful to have the perfect excuse to breath in deeply again because it just couldn’t be helped. “It’s crazy how something like a little water, even a tiny trickle, down the wrong pipe can send people into such a panic. Obviously, you’re not gonna choke on a little water, but that’s the normal reaction.”

  I nodded again in embarrassed agreement. “I’m a drama queen, I guess.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly. “And actually, I apologize. That’s not entirely correct. It’s more of a mixture of both mental and physical reactions. The body will reject a foreign object in the wrong place, especially if it causes trauma, and technically, even something as harmless as a trickle of water down the wrong pipe is in the wrong place. Even if it’s only for a moment, the panic from not being able to catch your breath for that long will cause the body to react.” He smiled again and I found myself getting lost in the darkness of his eyes, not even listening to what he was saying anymore as he continued. “ . . . hence the hacking cough.”

  This time I smiled. It was all I could think of to do, and I had to look away. I’d lost all train of thought, and I had to gather myself because I suddenly remembered what had me hacking and spitting my water up all over his dash in the first place. I wiped it down with the outside of my sleeve as the mortification swept over me all over again.

  “I’m so sorry I made a mess.”

  “No worries,” he assured me as he turned his car back on. “I try to take it in to get hand washed on Sundays. So this was perfect timing.” He looked over at me and winked. “It’s just water.”

  I gulped, wondering if I should address his question head on or hope that he forgot about it. Remembering Edi’s tears, I decided to do the right thing—sort of.

  “I’m sorry. I forgot what you asked me just before I made a complete ass of myself.” Again.

  If he’d forgotten too, then obviously it wasn’t important, and I wouldn’t be reminding him. It felt a little like a compromise. At least I hadn’t ignored or avoided the question altogether. It was something I’d decided when I realized what Aaron did to me. I’d made the decision if he ever asked about my social status I’d be truthful. I may not offer it outright, but if he asked, there was no way I’d be denying what Edi was to me. I wouldn’t do that to her. And it’d be the only way I could continue to work with Aaron without it feeling wrong.

  He was quiet for an unnerving moment; then he turned to me. “Oh yeah. I remember now. How long have you and Edi been friends? On New Year’s Eve you said a long time, right?”

  I stared at his perfectly chiseled profile, wondering if he’d thought better about it and decided to reword it or if I was really that paranoid that I’d completely misheard him the first time. He turned to me when I didn’t respond immediately and raised his brows.

  “I, uh . . . since high school. When I went to live with Gemma in the eleventh grade.” I’d already told him a lot about my past, but I’d purposely been very vague about Edi, and I was hit with another guilt grenade. “Gemma has known her all her life, and she introduced us.”

  I knew there’d probably be no better time to mention the rest of my history with Edi, but I couldn’t bring myself
to say more. He hadn’t asked outright, so I wouldn’t until he did.

  “That’s right. You did mention that before.”

  I had? I guess I hadn’t been too vague. Though If I hadn’t, he might’ve remembered because even I couldn’t remember telling him about her. Fortunately, he didn’t seem all that interested and quickly moved onto the subject of the presentation I’d be doing in Milwaukee.

  “I have video of some of my previous presentations we can watch tonight. The queues are pretty much under control, so we can spend a little time going over the presentation. We have less than two weeks to prepare.”

  Glad for the change in subject, I was finally able to sit back and relax a little the rest of the way to his place. He spoke some more about his strategy not being a sales pitch but more of explaining the functionality and benefits of the EPG. “It basically sells itself. These are safety trade shows and fairs we’ll be doing. Most of the people there are sent by their companies with a purpose. They’re looking for ways to lower their expenses through lower insurance bills, and they want to avoid fines and lawsuits for safety violations or even bad press, in case something disastrous happens and the media catches wind that they weren’t up on the latest devices that could’ve helped avoid such disasters. So, basically, with the EPG, there’s no need to even mention price. Some people will even be there just because they heard I’ll be there. They’re there just for the live presentation.”

  He was mesmerizing, and I could have listened to him go on and on. He could have been talking about wrestling or the weather in China, things I wasn’t remotely interested in, and he would have had me hanging on his every word. Every now and again I reminded myself to not stare so hard or to check my expression because it almost felt cartoonish. But I wasn’t just fixated on his appearance and voice. I really did enjoy seeing how passionately he spoke of this thing he’d created and not just because it was making him money but because of the very reason he set out to create it: to save lives.

  When we reached his home, it felt a little different from normal. No one was there, and we walked into his living room instead of the back work area with desk and computers.

  “Have a seat,” he said, already clicking things on his TV remote and motioning toward the large L-shaped sofa in front of his huge television.

  I walked to it, feeling a little apprehensive but shook it off and took a seat. He clicked a few things, and then there he was on the screen. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw him in front of what appeared to be a rather large crowd. He was looking so self-confident not to mention unbelievably sexy in his business suit; then the picture froze just as he was about to start speaking. Confused, I turned to see him put the remote down on the coffee table.

  “Give me a second,” he said as he strode off toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna grab a beer. You want one or anything else?” he asked as he continued into the kitchen and out of sight. “I also have soda, juice, and . . .” After pausing for a moment, he continued. “Yep, there’s still plenty left—wine. Pinot Grigio or White Zinfandel. Mia likes the Pinot, but if I’m gonna drink wine, I like the sweeter stuff.”

  “Uh . . .” I didn’t want him to think I was being prudish, but drinking on the job didn’t seem appropriate, and we were in his house. “I’m okay. I think I’ll lay off the liquids for a little bit.”

  I heard his chuckle then something tinkling into a bowl. He hurried back, carrying a bottle of beer in one hand and a bowl of chips in the other. “I know you brought your lunch, but I’ll order some Chinese later anyway.” He smirked. “Maybe by then you’ll be ready for some liquids.”

  He took a seat next to me, making me sit up a little straighter, and then clicked the remote. I sat there watching the video of his presentation, trying to concentrate, but couldn’t help wondering what Mia would think of us sitting here on a Saturday night in his living room and him offering me a drink—her wine. Didn’t he think there was something a little wrong with that? What would Bea think if she walked in and saw me sitting there with her engaged brother, watching TV and drinking alcohol? I didn’t know a whole lot about his family, but I knew enough to know Bea was very protective of Mia.

  What would Edi think? That was what really mattered, and right then, I decided I’d be eating my own lunch when the time came and with it the juice box I packed as I always did when it came time to eat—at work.

  Getting down to business, I pulled out a notebook from my backpack and a pen. I glanced up when the sound on the television muted and he stopped talking, only to see him smiling at me with an odd gaze.

  “You’re gonna take notes?”

  “Yeah, well . . .” The way he continued to gaze at me made my face heat, and I had to look away, so I brought my attention back to my notebook. “I’m known for taking excellent notes. It’s the only way I’ll remember everything too.” I was almost afraid to, but I glanced up again at him. His continued gaze sent anxious chills up my spine, exciting chills I knew I shouldn’t be feeling, but it couldn’t be helped. It actually worried me that the next words out of my mouth might be shaky. “Things stick with me better when I write them down.”

  “Good to know,” he said with an even bigger smile and hit play again without breaking the eye contact. “I can already tell we’re gonna be great together.”

  He finally looked away and not a moment too soon. My palms were sweating now, and my heartbeat was out of control.

  Great together?

  Swallowing hard, I focused on staying cool. Do not be ridiculous. He meant we’d work great together. That’s all. Nothing more. I stared at the screen, trying to catch up with what I’d missed, but all I could think the whole time was be still my heart.

  Just as my heart began to calm, I was instantly in awe the moment the video started again. I watched, listening intently and reminding myself occasionally to take notes. I’d get so caught up just watching him. But all that aside, his invention was truly fascinating. He’d pause the video every now and again to ask if I had questions. I always did and that seemed to please him.

  He paused and once again I had a question ready for him. “So these conventions and trade shows you do . . . Are they open to the general public or just large companies?”

  “They’re open to everyone,” he said with a strange smirk.

  “But you said it’s almost over, and so far your presentation only addresses how the EPG benefits businesses.”

  “That’s right,” he said again with same odd smirk.

  “Why?” I asked confused. “Wouldn’t all consumers benefit from having a device like this in their residences?”

  His smirk suddenly waned, and he went on to explain why, despite the huge benefit this would be to individual families, particularly those living in large apartment complexes, they weren’t his target clients.

  “It’s just not cost effective,” he explained, and for the first time since I’d met him, I felt slightly disappointed with him.

  I’d been so impressed by him and his passion for wanting to save lives. This was why he wouldn’t make his invention available or even attempt to sell a potentially lifesaving gadget to individual families? Because it wasn’t cost effective for him?

  “Huh,” I said, glancing back down at my notepad.

  “Henrietta,” he said in a tone that made me look up at him. “Tell me. What are you thinking right this second?”

  The strange smirk was back, and it confused me, but at the same time, it was a bit irritating, so without thought, I said exactly what I was thinking. “I didn’t think you were in this for the money.”

  “I’m not,” he said immediately, causing my eyebrows to jump.

  This time he laughed, but before I could retort, he started his explanation. “This is what I love about you.” He stopped then cleared his throat as my heart walloped, and we were quiet for a second that felt like forever. “I uh . . ” he continued, a little less enthused than he’d originally started, but he smiled again in that impressed way he ha
d earlier, turning my insides to liquid. “I’m surprised you caught that, but I guess I shouldn’t be. The cost to make the EPG is a bit too much right now to sell to individual families, particularly those living in apartments on fixed or low incomes who’d probably benefit from it the most. It’d be a very hard sell because, sadly, just like other preventative measures people go without—vitamins, higher-priced healthier foods, getting their cars routinely checked—people would rather take the risks than spend the money. Food and shelter and getting gas in their cars so they can go to work are higher priorities.”

  I still wasn’t completely satisfied with the answer because it seemed if people living in apartment buildings would benefit from it most it’d be something he’d be most focused on. Then he went on.

  He explained how this was something he’d actually been working on: bringing the cost down so it’d be worth it to individuals. My heart swelled when he explained lower income clients in apartment buildings were what had originally had him brainstorming to come up with the EPG in the first place.

  “The biggest hurdle I face now is,” he said with a frown, “even if I could demonstrate the value of it and convince individuals to spend a little more, what good would it do them if their next-door neighbor doesn’t have one? Let’s face it. Too many of these people living in lower income neighborhoods will still have other priorities they’d rather spend their money on. And I’m not just talking electricity or water bills. There’s also booze and drugs. So while some will see the benefit and purchase, many won’t, no matter how cheap they can get it for. Times are tough and sadly for some more than others. Hell, if I donated some, they might even sell them, which would make everyone else in the building who actually paid for and installed them still vulnerable.”

  For once, while I still listened to him in awe, I understood the passion I’d felt from him so often in regards to this. The frustration he felt about this particular hurdle was as tangible as the passion he exuded whenever he spoke of any updates to the EPG that improved it. As much as I felt for him and agreed there had to be a way around this hurdle, I was drawing a complete blank.