by Nikki Chase
And that’s just something I don’t come across all that often. In fact, I’ve only ever found it in Aiden.
Ah, damn it. I’ve been trying to push thoughts of him to the back of my mind, but he keeps resurfacing every time I try to push him back underwater.
Aiden.
Was it really him last night, and the day before that, at the parking lot?
To be honest, Grace’s early-morning intrusion into my bedroom wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t get enough sleep.
I couldn’t get Aiden out of my head and for hours, I just stared at the ceiling and replayed every word I could remember from our conversation.
If that guy’s really my Aiden . . .
He looks different, but of course he would. It’s been ten years. His voice has deepened. His facial hair obscures some of his features, while giving him this rugged quality. He’s even taller, and more solidly built. I could see hints of muscle definition under his shirt.
Have I changed so much that he doesn’t remember me, too?
“Hannah, does Marcus have a helmet? You know, for skateboarding?” I ask randomly.
“Of course he does. It’s dangerous to ride without one,” Hannah says. “Why?”
What do you know? Aiden’s right.
I consider not telling Hannah about what happened in the parking lot, but I can’t hide something like that from her. This is about her son’s safety.
“He didn’t bring one with him when I took him to the mall. He fell in the parking lot, but luckily he just had some scratches on his hands—they’re probably healed by now. But he didn’t have a helmet, and I thought I should ask you about that.”
“Ugh, I’m going to kill him. I told him not to ride if he doesn’t have his helmet with him,” Hannah says.
“Well, that boy doesn’t always listen,” Mom says. “Remember last night when he just announced that he’d seen Aubrey and he just ran away? I had to follow him to check that he was really with Aubrey and not just some strange woman.”
“Wait, Mom, did you see the guy I was drinking with last night?” I ask.
“I just caught a quick glimpse of him from outside the restaurant. I was more concerned about finding Marcus and identifying you.”
“Did he look familiar to you?” I ask.
“Not really,” Mom says. “Who is he? Someone from your old school?”
“No, I met him at the casino,” I say. “His name’s Aiden.”
Mom’s eyes widen in shock, and for the first time, she twists around to look at me directly. “That Aiden?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug.
Mom frowns. “You didn’t ask him?”
“I did, but . . . Ugh, I don’t know. Just forget it. I probably won’t ever see the guy again.”
“Ooh, is this your first boyfriend?” Hannah asks with interest.
“Yeah, his name was Aiden too, but I don’t know if he’s the guy from last night.”
When I met Aiden, Hannah had gone to college in Seattle, so she wasn’t here to help me through my first crush, my first relationship, and my first heartbreak. She has no idea what my Aiden looked like either, so it wouldn’t make sense to ask her about the other, adult Aiden.
“Funny,” Hannah says, “One of the groomsmen is named Aiden, too. Wouldn’t it be funny if he’s the guy from last night, and your first boyfriend from ten years ago?”
“Are you serious?” I ask, a little too excitedly. My heart jumps at the possibility of seeing him again tonight.
“No, wait, don’t get too excited yet. I have no idea,” Hannah says quickly. “I don’t know if he’s either one of those guys. Could be neither.”
I put my hand over my mouth, still dealing with the revelation.
It’s not like he’s the only guy with that name, but there have been too many coincidences for everything to be random.
Yet, if they weren’t coincidences, what’s the explanation for what’s going on?
Let’s say they—my ex, the slot machine guy, and the groomsman—are all the same guy. That means my ex has somehow tracked me down, made friends with my brother-in-law and gotten close enough to be part of the wedding party, deliberately parked his car somewhere my nephew could slam into, followed me to a casino in a different city, and won at my slot machine.
How is that a more likely scenario than just a random series of coincidences?
No, I’m probably being silly. In all likelihood, I haven’t met Aiden the groomsman in my life.
“Don't give your sister any ideas, Hannah,” Mom says.
“Right. Dad wants to introduce her to Trey. Almost forgot,” Hannah winks at me through the mirror.
As we giggle, Mom’s eyes flick between the two of us, trying to figure out what we find so funny, which only makes us laugh harder.
It is nice to have everyone together again.
Sometimes, I wish I could get along with Dad. But he's way too pushy sometimes, and I just can't live under his iron rule. Mom and Hannah don't seem to mind his absolute reign either, which makes me feel like the black sheep who doesn't belong.
I definitely don’t want to live here with them, but just one weekend with the whole family is nice.
“So do you know the full name of this Aiden guy?” I ask Hannah.
“No, but wouldn’t it be crazy if he’s really your ex from ten years ago?”
“Yeah. Crazy.” I laugh nervously.
“Oh, actually . . . I might have pictures of him,” Hannah says. “Earl sent me pictures of the guys last night.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, a little too eagerly. “Show me.”
Mom slowly shakes her head. “I still can’t believe they went to a strip club.”
“You know, Mom, it’s really not that weird,” Hannah says. “People fly into Vegas from all over specifically to visit our strip clubs. Some of Earl’s groomsmen are from out of town. They just wanted to have a little fun.”
Hannah picks up her phone. As her manicured nails tap on the screen, I sit bolt upright in my chair.
“Here you are,” Hannah says as she hands me her phone. She grins. “Don’t scroll. Or you’d regret it.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to see the nude pictures you and Earl send each other.” I quickly take Hannah’s phone and stare at the screen as my heart races.
“Don’t be vulgar, girls,” Mom says. I don’t have to look up to know she’s wearing a disapproving expression on her face.
I scan the guys’ faces one by one until my gaze lands on a beautiful man standing in the back, grinning with his arms around some of the other guys.
Golden skin. A mess of dark hair. Tall, sturdy body with just the right amount of muscle.
There’s no mistaking it. That’s him.
Aubrey
“Aubrey? Is that really you?” Aiden asks.
This is a moment I’ve always fantasized about, but the reality is so far from my imagination it’s not even funny.
Oh man, the real Aiden is hotter than the imaginary one. In my mind, he’s always stayed that sweet sixteen-year-old boy . . . until now.
This can’t be the product of my shitty imagination, because I couldn’t come up with this guy if I tried. Now that I know for sure who he is, I can clearly see the old Aiden in the depth of his eyes and the shape of his kissable lips.
And yet, he’s different. He sounds different, he talks different, he moves different. There’s an air of quiet confidence around him now, where before I saw boyish awkwardness, which was endearing in its own way.
But, the Aiden that’s standing before me now, he’s a force of nature. In his suit, he looks like he’s in control. I wonder what he does now. I can imagine him standing in front of a roomful of important people, commanding attention while he gives a presentation or something.
And even though he’s so, so different from the way he used to be, my heart remembers him and starts to beat the way it used to whenever he was around.
Too bad this isn’t our
first meeting since we parted.
I mean, what the hell is up with his question? He didn’t recognize me on the casino floor, but tonight, suddenly he’s eager to reconnect?
“Have you bumped your head recently?” I ask him. I keep my voice low. I want to keep this conversation private, and this church is basically a massive, echo-y hall.
“Huh?” Aiden furrows his brows and stares at me in confusion, tilting his head in a chest-tighteningly familiar way.
“Nothing.” I shake my head slowly. I glance at Hannah’s wedding planner, who’s standing behind the last row of pews, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “I’m sure there’s no cause for concern. You’ve always been good at forgetting things.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“You really don’t remember?” Somehow, I find that hard to believe. This guy was sitting less than a foot away from me at the bar.
“You think I don’t remember you?” Aiden asks, hurt in his eyes. “Of course I remember you, Aubrey. I . . . I’d never forget.”
“I think we’re needed somewhere else,” I say, gesturing at the rest of the wedding party, which has gathered in the aisle.
I don’t wait for his answer. Instead, I start walking away.
His footsteps follow me as I take my place just behind Hannah.
“Hey, Aiden!” shouts a high-pitched voice behind me.
“Hi, kid,” Aiden says. “Uh, you’re that kid from the parking lot, right? Skateboard kid. What are you doing here?”
“Uh-huh. My parents are getting married.”
“Your parents?” Aiden asks. He pauses. “You’re Earl’s kid?”
“Yeah,” Marcus says. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m a friend of your dad’s.” Aiden sounds like he’s not quite sure what’s happening. “Wait a minute, did I see you a couple of nights ago?”
“Yeah, at the restaurant. When you were with Aunt Bee,” Marcus says.
I prick up my ears at the mention of my name.
But just as this bizarre conversation starts to get interesting, the wedding planner calls for Marcus. In that strikingly sweet voice that adults reserve for children, she says, “Marcus, come up here and take your place, will you?”
I turn around to look at Marcus like a few other people are doing, except I’m actually trying to catch a glimpse of Aiden.
He’s crouching on the ground in front of Marcus, his gaze flicking rapidly between the seven-year-old menace and me. As much as I want to stay angry at him, I can’t deny he seems genuinely lost. Our eyes meet as Marcus runs to the front of the procession.
“This is literally going to take hours,” says a guy who has taken his place beside me. He must be the best man.
Please, don’t let this last that long. I can’t stay in the same room as Aiden and do this rehearsal for hours like nothing’s wrong. I’d die from the tension.
I pull out a small card from the pocket of my black, knee-length circle skirt and read it. “It says forty minutes here. I think it’s going to be an hour at the most.” I show the card to the best man.
“Oh, I didn’t mean this is going to actually take multiple hours,” the best man says. “I’m Trey, by the way.”
So this is the guy Dad wants to introduce to me. He’s okay, I guess, except for the fact that he doesn’t know what “literally” means.
“Nice to meet you, Trey. I’m Aubrey,” I say with a polite smile.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Trey says.
Oh, I bet you have. My dad’s probably already picking out names for our children—literally. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already One-Clicked a baby-name book on Amazon.
“Good things, I hope,” I say.
The wedding planner introduces herself as Vivian. In a highly organized fashion—I totally expected this from someone hired by Dad and Hannah, by the way—Vivian directs everyone to take their places and makes us walk really slowly down the aisle.
All I have to do is hold on to Trey’s arm as I walk to the music and then take my place at the front, beside where Hannah would stand.
It’s easy. Which is fortunate because Aiden’s not too far behind me, burning a hole in my back with his stare. I can feel it without even taking one glimpse at him.
As soon as Vivian wraps up the rehearsal—approximately forty minutes since the beginning—Aiden approaches me. “Can we talk?” he asks.
I can’t say I didn’t expect this. I spent the entire rehearsal—which took exactly forty minutes—rehearsing, in my mind, what to say to Aiden.
“Sure.” Standing on the red carpet stretching across center aisle of the church, I cross my arms over my chest. “Just answer one question first. Do you really not remember us talking at the casino?”
“I remember going into the casino . . .” Aiden says slowly, carefully, as if the speed of his speech could lessen the hurt he’s probably going to inflict on me.
“What about the slot machine?”
“That’s your second question, and you did say just one question,” Aiden says, coaxing me with his smile. “Can we . . . I don’t know, take a seat somewhere? There are lots of pews here, and your shoes don’t look very comfortable.”
“You didn’t exactly answer my question the first time, but okay.” Without waiting for his response, I march toward a random pew and plant my butt on it. He’s not the only one who wants answers. I look straight at him as he sits beside me. I raise an eyebrow. “So . . . ?”
“Right. The slot machine,” he says. “I remember finding a coin in my pocket and going to the casino. I must’ve gone to a slot machine, because how else was I going to spend my one coin?”
“And . . . ?”
“And then I, uh, remember taking a girl to a bar? I guess I skipped the slot machine after all,” Aiden says.
“You don’t remember winning?” I ask incredulously.
“Oh, so that’s why I had all that money on my bed the next day,” he says.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m so sorry, Aubrey. When I drink too much, everything’s blurry and I forget things,” he says, leveling his gaze at me. “Was that you? The girl I went to the bar with?”
“Do you make a habit of picking up random girls every time you get drunk?” I ask.
“Not really. Only when I drink too much and one of my best friends is getting married,” he says with a smile that tells me he’s noticed my jealousy. “Forgive me?”
My heart thumps in my chest, almost painfully. Those puppy-dog eyes used to always make me melt . . .
“Okay,” I say.
Why did you leave me ten years ago and break my heart? That’s what I really want to say, but where does that question fit in this conversation?
I’ve only just met him again and it seems like an inappropriate question to ask a stranger. At the same time, he feels familiar and I miss him too damn much to not entertain the idea that we could fix whatever went wrong when we were both teenagers.
Above all, it’s taken me so long to find him again, I don’t want to do anything to scare him away.
I’m not crazy enough to think we’re just going to pick up where we left off and live happily ever after. But unless I’m sorely mistaken, there’s still something here.
I see it in his eyes; I feel it in my racing heart. The air feels electric, the way it used to be when I was with him. It’s been so long since I last felt this way I was starting to believe it had all been a teenage illusion.
But as soon as Aiden shows up, I’m that sixteen-year-old girl again, giddy and excited. And vulnerable—which, to be honest, scares me.
“So . . . how are you doing, Aubrey?” Aiden asks.
“Good.” I take a deep breath. I guess small talk is the safe way to go while I try to feel my way through this unprecedented situation. “I, uh, I’m graduating medical school and I’m about to start my internship. And you?”
“Uh… Yeah, me too, actually,” Aiden says, hi
s blue eyes lighting up with surprise.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Yeah. I got matched with an internship at Oak Crest Hospital.”
A chill runs down my arms. I stare at him. “Oak Crest Hospital?”
“Yeah,” Aiden says. “How about you?”
“Yeah, me too. Oak Crest Hospital,” I say, perplexed. Is Aiden telling the truth, or is he just pulling my leg?
“What?” Aiden exclaims excitedly. He shoots me a big grin. “That’s a crazy coincidence.”
It doesn’t seem like he’s lying . . .
“How is that possible?” I ask.
Aiden shrugs. “Maybe it’s fate.” He shoots me a panty-melting smile.
“It’s not,” I say curtly. I nervously look around us. “Everyone’s outside. We should probably join them.” Checking the little schedule card again, I say, “It’s only five minutes until everyone leaves. My ride’s going to leave me.”
“Did I say something wrong?” Aiden asks as he gets up from his spot at the end of the pew. He stands in the aisle and waits for me.
“No, we just need to get going,” I say, giving him a small smile as I get up on my feet. “My sister wants everything to go perfectly according to her schedule. And that's not going to happen if my dad knows who you are.”
I don’t want this to turn into a big thing, especially when we’re both about to meet my dad at the rehearsal dinner. He’ll notice if I’m late and it’ll become this whole, big thing, which is exactly what I don’t want.
Hannah has worked hard for months to plan this wedding, and I wouldn’t even dream of stealing her spotlight.
Our footsteps are muffled by the red carpet that stretches across the aisle. Hot wind blows into the church through the open doorway.
“Wait, Aubrey,” Aiden says as he takes my hand.
His touch is gentle, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of me. He pauses for a few seconds, as if he feels it too and needs time to recover.
But when he speaks, his voice drips with authority. “Give me your number.” He holds his phone up with the keypad on the screen.