He never flaunted having money during the time we’d spent together, so this wasn’t surprising. I simply raised a second finger and let him continue.
“And…” He paused again, folding his arms. Thinking. Perhaps wondering if he wanted to share this with me. Finally, he said, “And I feel like it’s ruined my relationship with my dad.”
“Three.” I tried not to think too deeply about this statement. If I did, my brain would get bombarded with more questions which I’d inevitably voice aloud. And that would really get him pissed at me for not minding my own business. “Are those all your reasons?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you really want more?”
Good point. “Nope. Three is plenty enough.”
“Plenty enough for what?”
“To prove that you’re wrong.” This was it. Step one of my grand plan. “I challenge you, Aiden Andale.”
He stared at me blankly for a few seconds, then buried his head in his hands and groaned. “We’re just going to keep challenging each other to get what we want now, aren’t we?”
“It is an effective strategy.”
He lifted his face from his hands and gave me a sad smile. “True that. So what’s the challenge?”
I gulped, swallowing down the dread sluicing around in my stomach. I had to phrase this in a way that would entice him, or he’d definitely say no. “I have until the end of December to change your mind on these three reasons for why you hate tennis. If I can’t, then you get a personal favour and a personal question ticket from me.”
There. Hopefully that was appealing enough for him.
“What do you get if you win?”
Of course that hadn’t slipped past him. “I get the same as you.”
“Hmm.” He raked a hand through his hair, his face deep in concentration. Was he weighing the pros and cons in his head? Or thinking of a polite way to refuse the challenge?
“Okay, challenge accepted,” he said at last, and I released a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been keeping in. “I should warn you though—it’s not easy to change my mind. I can be really stubborn.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “We’ll see about that. By the end of this challenge, you’ll be living life with no regrets.” Like the other day, I had a sense of being a hypocrite. Living life with no regrets. Yeah, I wasn’t exactly a role model for that.
But when Aiden held out his hand for me to shake, I took it.
Chapter 20
“Sere!” Ming yelled out. “Your boyfriend is here.”
I glanced up from my phone, glaring at her choice of words. Scrambling off the sofa, I stalked across the living room toward her. “He’s not my boyfriend!” Not in a million years.
Ming’s eyes went wide and, sensing what was coming, she backpedalled.
I cut her off from her path to the stairs, stuck my hands out, and tickled her.
“Oof—no! Please stop!” she gasped out in between bouts of uncontrollable squealing. “I take...it ba-ack!”
I withdrew my fingers, letting her breath catch up to her. When she finally calmed down, she shot me one of her dimpled smiles. “But you do like him, right?”
“Like shmike,” I muttered. Clearly I hadn’t tickled some sense into her. “I told you before—never getting into another relationship.”
Ming frowned, her dimples disappearing. “I thought you’d finally moved on. Isn’t it time you dated a new cute guy?”
Mum must’ve been rubbing off on her. Ming didn’t usually play wingman for me. I gave her a cold, hard stare, hoping she would get the picture and stop asking me silly questions.
It didn’t work.
“Max told me he’s a famous tennis player,” she went on, her dimpled smile returning. “That’s so cool. You two meeting is like a fairytale. Just imagine the scene when he—”
“No!” Ming’s imagination tended to get the better of her. A true romantic at heart, she’d forced Max to watch all the Disney films. As sweet as she was, I didn’t need her dreamy thoughts taking a weird turn. Aiden was not some charming prince, and I was not a princess that needed saving. “No, Ming. Don’t even think about it. It’s never going to happen.”
Ming pouted, looking like a berated puppy dog. “Why?”
My shoulders sagged in defeat. She wasn’t going to drop this, was she? I would have to lay it on her straight. “We’re too different from each other, that’s why. He’s famous, travelling the world and living a busy life, and I’m, well…” I waved my hand around aimlessly, the words failing to form.
Her lips puckered up, a sure sign that she wasn’t convinced with my argument. “You know, Max and I didn’t get along when we first met.”
“Yeah, I remember.” I’d shown her the ropes when Mum had employed her two years ago. But during an occasion I hadn’t been around for, she and Max had met and clashed over something. I never got to know the full details about it. If I had to wager a guess, it had probably been my brother’s fault. He’d always been a moody bum back then.
“Max misunderstood something I did and judged me. Those first few weeks I worked here, I was pretty sure he hated my guts.”
Hard to believe, considering how he was so lovey-dovey with her now. How had their first meeting gone so wrong? Had Ming accidentally messed up the baking? She’d been flawless on her trial runs with me, so I doubted that’d been the case.
“Maybe you’re misunderstanding that guy too,” Ming continued, interrupting my train of thought. “Maybe he’s your perfect match, but you’re just too blinded by your past to see it.”
Nope. That was where she was wrong. My past was what allowed me to understand the situation perfectly, rather than act like a naive, love-struck girl. Aiden might be down-to-earth and funny, but he lived in a completely different world than me. If I took the fall and liked him, I knew how it would all end. Badly. The exact same way my last relationship had ended.
Someone like Aiden would inevitably tire of me and find another girl who was more beautiful, more everything that I wasn’t. This was all assuming there was even a chance of him liking me.
No point explaining this to Ming, though. So instead of trying, I clambered down the stairs to the kitchen. Incoherent voices rumbled from the storefront, becoming clearer once I shoved open the door.
“—more it’ll be obvious. She’s always been like that,” Max said. He manned the counter while Aiden stood in front of it, twirling a wrapped cake pop in his hand.
“Who’s always been like that?” I asked, drawing their gazes to me.
“Hey, Serendipity.” Aiden lifted his chin in greeting and placed the cake pop back in the cardboard stand. “Your brother was just telling me about the tart recipe you made.”
“Really?” That better have been all he’d told Aiden about. I would sooner give up the challenge than let something embarrassing slip out, like my teenage crush on him.
“Yeah, guess what?” Max said. “Your tarts already sold out for the day.”
“Nice. Try to convince people to donate for the cake pops too,” I reminded him.
“I know, I know. Don’t worry. We’ve almost reached our goal.”
“Thanks, Gor Gor. We’ll be upstairs if you need me.” I held open the door to the kitchen, gesturing for Aiden to follow me.
Even a week and a half after our first meeting, it was still surreal to see him. To take in how it had all transpired. The crazier thing to acknowledge? That I’d invited him over today on my Saturday off, five days after Isaac’s birthday party.
During this week, I’d brainstormed ways to address his three problems with tennis.
1) He is only good at tennis
2) Money can’t buy happiness
3) It’s ruined his relationship with his dad
Yeah, that third one would be the trickiest thing to tackle. But today I was setting out to prove him wrong for the first one.
“How’s your leg doing?” Aiden asked.
“Good. Great, actually.” I straighte
ned my leg out to point at the scab. “Doesn’t bother me at all now. Thanks again for helping me out.” The memory of him carrying me still sent a warm flush through my body every time my brain decided to randomly replay the moment in my head. Like right now. I hoped my face wasn’t beet red.
Get it together, Sere.
I snuck a look at Aiden, but he only smiled at me like normal. “No problem. Glad I could help.” He followed me as I led us up the stairs. “So what’s this great task you have for me today?”
“Remember when you said I’d have to prove to you that the food I brought to Isaac’s party was easy to make?”
“Yeah?”
We reached the top of the stairs. “That’s what we’ll be doing.” I slipped my thongs off my feet.
“And you’ll prove me wrong about only being good at tennis while we’re at it,” Aiden guessed. He paused midway through pulling his sneaker off his foot. “I think you should know that I have no baking experience whatsoever.”
“You’ll be fine.” I’d specifically chosen a simple recipe. It was foolproof.
“I mean it. I’ve never baked anything in my life.”
“That’s okay. You can learn.” Pretty certain that serving a tennis ball required more skill than cracking an egg. “And cake pops are pretty straightforward to make.”
He continued to shimmy out of his sneakers, then set them down next to the neat row of shoes we kept by the stairs. “Those lollipop things?”
“Yeah.” I walked to the kitchen bench and snatched a paper I’d printed out earlier, giving it to him. “Just follow the instructions on here.”
He scanned over the sheet, his face scrunched in extreme concentration. “That’s all there is to it?”
“Yep. It’s—”
“Easy,” he finished with a smile. “If I fail big time, I’m going to make you eat your words—and whatever disaster I create.”
“Deal.” Unless he burnt the cake to a crisp, which I’d make sure he didn’t do, I was safe. “But if they turn out good, they’re going in the bakery.”
“Oh, so that’s your real motivation. I’m your free labour.”
His playful smirk showed he was joking, but I decided to play along. Playing along meant that I could pretend hanging out with him was the norm. It meant I wouldn’t think too deeply about what we were doing. “You already volunteered as free labour last week, so you’ve only got yourself to blame.”
“True. Well, as long as I have the privilege of learning under you, I won’t complain.”
“Okay, if you say so.” I let out a nervous laugh, unsure of what to make of his statement. He’s just being nice, I told myself. Don’t take it the wrong way.
Luckily it was easy to distract myself as we got to work. Or rather, as he got to work and I stayed on the sidelines, content to sit at the dining table and yell out my advice whenever he needed it.
For someone who claimed to have never done any baking before, he managed to do everything without too much trouble. Granted, I’d bought premade cake mix to simplify the process, so he only had to measure out the butter and milk and crack three eggs to bake the cake. But it still impressed me. He was a natural compared to Liz.
As hard as I tried, I could never forget the one time she tried to make her own egg tarts and accidentally tipped over a kilogram bag of flour. Yeah...it was safe to say he was doing well in comparison.
“What are you smiling about?”
I shoved the memory aside to see the curious look Aiden threw my way. “Nothing. Just thinking that you’re doing much better than my friend did when she tried to make egg tarts. My mum banned her from our kitchen after she doused half of the room in flour.”
“Woah. That must’ve been annoying to clean up. Is that the same friend who was with you that time at the sports centre?”
“Yeah.”
“The best friend who isn’t your friend anymore?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Do you miss her?”
I blinked at him, repeating his question in my head. “Sometimes,” I admitted, because it was the truth. Like now, when I could imagine her between us, giving me suggestive looks whenever Aiden wasn’t paying attention. Or saying something subtle like, Aiden, did you know Sere is your biggest fan? She even has a collection of photos of you. That sounded exactly like something she’d say. Something I’d want to smack her for, but at the same time laugh at because of how much more daring she was than me.
A surge of longing hit me all at once. I took in a deep breath, mentally pushing it aside. “How are you doing with the cake?” I asked, eager to steer the topic away from Liz. Away from things that couldn’t be changed. I jumped up from my seat and approached Aiden.
He opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to question me some more, but then showed me his finished cake mix.
“Looks good. Let’s put it in the oven.”
While the cake was baking, Aiden worked on making the buttercream and melting the chocolate for the cake pop coating.
“Did I do this right?” he asked.
He raised the glass bowl to show me. I examined the melted chocolate inside, then glanced up at his face. Wait, was that…? I smothered a laugh with my hand.
“What’s so funny?” He scrutinised the bowl. “Did I do something wrong?”
I pointed at a dark brown spot on his cheek. “You’ve got some chocolate there.”
“I do?” He wiped his hand on the apron I’d lent him and patted his face blindly, smudging the chocolate around even more.
“Stop! You’re making it worse.” I laughed. “Here. Let me do it.” I grabbed a tissue and stood on my tiptoes to dab it gently against his cheek. A strange sensation rattled my stomach at his proximity, as though it was trying to separate huge clumps of flour stuck together in a sifter.
“Is it gone?” he asked, his voice cracking.
My gaze trailed up to meet his eyes. “Yeah, it’s gone.”
His answering smile had me pulling my hand back and looking away, breaking all forms of contact.
You don’t like him. I kept repeating the words in my mind. I repeated it when I demonstrated how to assemble the cake pops. I repeated it again when we were finished and he gave me a high-five that sent shockwaves shooting down my arm.
You don’t like him. I repeated it over and over until it sounded like a broken record in my head. Until I was no longer certain if it was even the truth.
“Thanks, Serendipity. I had fun today,” Aiden said when it was time for him to leave. He shot me that one-sided, quirked-up smile of his. “I think I might have to say I’m good at something besides tennis after all.”
And then he swept me up in a hug without warning. I clutched feebly to the back of his shirt, breathing in his heady scent. My heart did somersaults, a feeling akin to falling from somewhere way up high. An endless falling.
You. Don’t. Like. Him.
Maybe if I said it enough times to myself, it would come true.
Chapter 21
Oh crap. I was late.
The sweltering heat hit me full force the instant I exited my car. I slammed the door, fumbling with my keys and pressing firmly on the fob. The car doors locked with a resounding clack. I hopped onto the footpath and power-walked across the car park, my heels click-clicking on the pavement.
The back of Aiden’s head popped into view as soon as I rounded the corner, his ruffled, dark brown hair in disarray.
It’d been five days since we’d completed part one of my challenge, yet seeing him again made it feel like it was only yesterday.
“Sorry I’m late,” I huffed out, feeling like I was dying in this heat. Sweat dampened my face and underarms. Ugh. This was what happened when I got spoiled with air conditioning every day.
Aiden whirled around to face me. “Oh, hey.” He blinked, taking in my appearance. “You look different. Professional.”
I self-consciously dusted off my black pencil skirt and straightened the white blo
use tucked under it. “Sorry. I didn’t have time to change out of my work clothes.” Or shower. I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping I still looked somewhat presentable after rushing off the train in thirty-degree heat and hightailing it here.
“Yeah, work. What happened there? I thought you weren’t starting full-time until January.”
“That was the original plan.” I rolled my neck in a semi-circle motion, stiff from the hours of sitting in front of a computer monitor. “Too many people called in sick this week, and the boss needed someone to help finalise some things before Christmas.” What a great early Christmas present that had been, waking up to an urgent call from my boss this morning. I’d been tempted to ignore it, but logic had won in the end. If it helped give a better impression to my boss about my work ethic, then maybe I’d get a pay raise. And more work I’d hate doing, but I wouldn’t think about that just yet.
There were more important things to think about. Like how my master plan was coming along. “Ready for part two of the challenge?”
“Hah, yeah. I guess I don’t have much of a choice.” Aiden ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up even more. Somehow he made it look cute instead of sloppy. Wait—cute? No, no, no. What was I thinking?
I tore my eyes away from him, trying to find something else to focus on. Anything else. The fenced-off tennis courts in the distance would do. My eyes traced over the lines of wired fencing as he carried on, thankfully unaware of my inappropriate thoughts.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into doing this challenge. What was I thinking?”
No clue, but as long as he couldn’t tell what I was thinking, I was okay with that. “Were you practicing tennis earlier?” I asked, eager to steer my mind away from more inappropriate thoughts.
“Yeah, just a bit with Mike.”
I looked around the empty car park. “Mike was here? Actually, why is this place so deserted?” Nothing else besides these out-for-hire tennis courts were around this area, but I would’ve expected more people to have hired them.
“Yep, Mike was here,” Aiden confirmed. “We booked out all the courts for half the day, so that’s why it’s so deserted. I have Mike to thank for that idea.”
Chances for Serendipity Page 16