by J. L. Berg
His skin was prickled from the sudden blast of the air-conditioning unit, and he smelled of whiskey, but it was his eyes that set off the most alarms. Even in the dim light, I could see the deep pain radiating from within.
“Aiden,” I breathed, “what’s wrong?”
His forehead rested against mine as his chest rose with effort. I could feel him shaking. Tears prickled my eyes as he pulled me closer.
“Nothing, love,” he whispered.
But then he kissed me, and I knew it was a lie. Because there was anguish and fear in the way his lips moved against mine. Passion and pain all wrapped in one.
We made love slowly, and I knew, with every thrust, a part of my heart went with it.
But, in that moment, I would give anything to ease his sorrow.
Anything to soothe the ache in his soul.
Even if it meant losing mine in the process.
Waking up the next morning, I felt raw.
Like all my emotions had been gobbled up, and I was running on autopilot. Stretching under the covers, I found myself alone in Aiden’s bed. When I sat up, as the sunlight poured in, there was nothing of his around. The clothes he’d dropped on the floor last night before he crawled in bed next to me, all gone.
Not one to lounge about, I decided to get up and going. Although Aiden had given me a tour of his cozy apartment last night, seeing it in the daytime was quite different. Rising from the bed, I took my time in walking to the bathroom as I checked out the artwork on the walls and, of course, the sculptures.
He’d mentioned several were his, but he had seemed almost shy about naming which ones. The only piece of Aiden’s I’d ever seen in person was the memorial he’d done for Ocracoke, and although I’d told him I had pulled off the side of the road to take a photo of it, what I hadn’t said was that I’d spent more than an hour there, staring at that sculpture.
I’d been completely enamored by it.
Moved even.
And, yes, at the time, I’d told myself it was because of Dean and Jake; because it was my hometown and how closely it’d affected my life. But, now, as my hand ran over a small stone piece on Aiden’s dresser that bore the same fluid lines and drew that same deep meaning within me, I knew it had to be more.
I was so in over my head.
“Guard your heart, Millie.”
I let out a pained laugh as I stared down at the beautiful sculpture.
Too late, I thought.
Too damn late.
“That was one of my first pieces.” Aiden’s voice cut through the silence.
I quickly brushed away a tear that had found its way onto my cheek and plastered on a fake smile before I turned around.
God, he was beautiful.
I didn’t think I’d ever grow tired of looking at him. From those hypnotic hazel eyes to the way his hair always seemed to be messy and tame at the same time, right down to the graphic T-shirts he loved to wear like a uniform.
Setting down a brown bag and a couple of coffees on the kitchen counter, just outside of the bedroom, he walked towards me, his hands finding my waist like a compass. I leaned into the warmth of his chest, and his chin rested on my collarbone.
“I was supposed to sell it to this wealthy couple in Manhattan. A symbol of their never-ending love on the their anniversary,” he began to explain as his thumbs rubbed slow circles on my bare skin. “But the wife died suddenly, and when I went to deliver it, the poor husband couldn’t bear to look at it.”
“That’s horrible. You would think he’d want to keep it as a reminder of their love,” I said, noticing the way the sculpture seemed to capture a couple passionately embracing. It was abstract, no faces or distinct features, as was the style of most of Aiden’s work, yet somehow, he’d managed to create such emotion and movement.
“Everyone handles grief in their own way. Some hold on, grasping at whatever they can, trying to keep a sliver of hope alive.”
“And everyone else?”
“They run,” he said simply as the warmth of his body left mine. “I got bagels, the best in the city. Want one? Oh, and coffee, too.”
The sudden change in his demeanor felt like a slap in the face, and I was bewildered by the backlash of it.
“Um, no. Not right now. I think I’m going to hop in the shower,” I said, my voice betraying the wave of emotions swelling in my heart.
Our eyes met, and I tried to swallow the giant lump that had formed in my throat. I could see the indecision in his gaze. But I made the decision for him and turned toward the bathroom door, ending the conversation before it began.
“Guard your heart Millie,” he’d said to me.
I hadn’t listened the first time, and I lost so much already.
If I was going to survive Aiden Fisher, I needed to hold on to what shattered remnants I had left; otherwise, I’d end up like that memorial on the side of the road.
Just dust in the wind.
“I’m light and breezy. Cool and casual,” I mumbled to myself under my breath as I gave one final glance in the mirror.
I’d just finished my makeup after a quick shower where I’d given myself one hell of a pep talk. This was not going to end with my heart broken in a million pieces.
I was not going to fall in love with this man.
I let out a cold laugh. I was not going to fall further in love with this man.
We’d agreed to a brief interlude.
Nothing more, nothing less.
I was a grown woman. I could sleep with a man and not grow attached. Hell, I used to do it all the time in college.
Having a one-night stand with your lab partner, Bobby Van Burren, because his girlfriend had dumped him and you felt bad for him doesn’t count as all the time.
Shut up, brain.
I was single. This was what single people did.
Causal dating. Meaningless sex. It was healthy.
Like going to the gym.
And, if there was one thing my junk-food-craving body needed, it was definitely health.
Grabbing the doorknob, I twisted it, feeling the weight of the door push against me like lead weights.
Looking up at Aiden, the moment I caught his gaze, I felt every word of my pep talk crumble to the ground around me like ash.
Light, breezy, and what?
Oh, right. I swallowed hard as his hazel brown eyes met mine. Casual.
“I have that bagel here, if you’re still—”
“Let’s go shopping,” I said, interrupting him mid-sentence.
“Okay,” he answered, his brow raised as his emotions seemed to be a mix between amused and perplexed.
Believe me, buddy, so am I.
“Anything in particular?” he asked, handing me the bagel he’d been saving for me.
I took it without complaint, my stomach growling in response as I broke off a piece and tossed it in my mouth.
It really was the best damn bagel I’d ever tasted.
He smiled, watching my reaction, but my mind was already on other things as I eyed the T-shirt he was sporting.
“How attached are you to those shirts of yours?”
He looked down at the fitted gray tee. It had a band logo, one I recognized from our childhood. It was retro and on trend, and it definitely did nice things to his body that I couldn’t help but notice.
“You want to give me a makeover?”
“I mean, I don’t want to go all Queer Eye on you and wax your eyebrows and cut your hair. But, yeah, I wouldn’t mind picking out a few things for you.”
A slight smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as I ate another piece of my bagel. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in your element,” he said.
And I wouldn’t mind the distraction, I thought.
“Just tell me where you want to go,” he said, rising from his spot on the bed to give me a quick kiss on the cheek.
I couldn’t help but grin, feeling like I’d accomplished some great feat.
See? I told myself. I can do ca
sual.
With bagel in hand, I went on a hunt for my phone, intent on looking up stores. I had a few in mind, but having no real clue where I was in relation to anything in New York, I wanted to look at a map and get my bearings.
I did a quick perusal of the bedroom with no luck, but I remembered I’d left it in the living room after Aiden explained the lack of outlets.
“Beautiful high ceilings, ornate architectural details, and, like, three outlets in the entire apartment. That’s the trade-off of living in a historical building,” he’d said with a shrug after pointing me to one of the few places I could charge my phone, which was near the coffee table.
After quickly packing everything back up in my small carry-on and stuffing the rest of my bagel in my mouth, I headed into the main room and plopped down on the sofa, reaching for my phone but was stopped short.
There, on the small table in front of me, was a small stone bird.
Underneath it was a handwritten note.
I leaned forward, my heart quickening.
Don’t read it, Millie.
Don’t—
The moment my eyes made contact with the messy writing, it was gone. I exhaled, not realizing I’d been holding my breath, as I looked up and found Aiden, his face a mixture of emotions as he shoved the beautiful stone bird in his pocket and placed the note on a shelf behind him.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just a list of supplies for a client I have coming up.”
I nodded, still a little bewildered as he took my hand, suggesting we go for a nice walk before grabbing a cab.
His words felt like they were ringing in my ears as I went through the motions, my focus still fixated on that note and the little stone bird.
There was one thing I couldn’t get out of my mind.
The fact that he’d lied.
Because, although I hadn’t read the letter, I’d managed to see a few key words before he whisked it away from my sight.
Love.
Ben.
And probably the most important one of all.
Millie.
So, unless his new client happened to share my name, this casual business just became infinitely harder.
What was the expression people used?
Oh, right.
Fuck my life.
Yeah, that about summed it up.
“I know you’re not a child anymore, but a simple text goes a long way,” my mother said as the three of us sat down over a pitcher of iced tea on the patio at the inn.
I’d barely been home an hour before she tracked me down, banging on the door to my suite like a crazy person.
After I’d explained to her where I’d been, she’d calmed down a bit and then politely invited me to afternoon tea with my sister.
But I knew better.
The tea was just a sugarcoated ruse, so she’d have an excuse to interrogate me about my trip. She and my sister weren’t all that different.
Come over for dinner. I need help with this recipe.
Let’s chat for a while. It’s been ages.
Why don’t you come over for tea?
The second I walked through the door or hopped on the phone, I was accosted with questions. This was what I got for moving away.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” I said, already feeling little beads of moisture around my brow. God, it was hot. Growing up in this heat, you developed a certain tolerance for it, but since I spent most of my time going from one air-conditioned place to another, I was a little rusty. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. And…” I paused, giving her a smug grin. “Like you said, I’m not a child.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” she said before taking a sip of her sweet tea. I watched as she grabbed a cookie Molly had brought over. Barely a mother for a week, and the woman was already baking again. I swore, she was Superwoman.
That, or Martha Stewart.
Wait, didn’t she go to prison for something once?
I let that thought go and took a cookie for myself.
Okay, three. I took three.
I’d run it off later.
“How is my grandbaby doing?” my mother asked, turning her attention to Molly.
The question surprised me some.
Was I being let off the hook? Had the day finally arrived when I wouldn’t be bombarded with a thousand questions about my personal life?
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“She’s good. I actually feel a little weird, being here without her. It’s my first time out of the house since she was born,” Molly admitted. “But Jake insisted. He said a little me time would be good for my mental health and that I wasn’t allowed to argue with my doctor.” She rolled her eyes.
“He’s not technically your doctor when it comes to lady issues. That’s what you have an OB-GYN for,” my mom interjected, happily enjoying her cookie.
She nodded. “Try explaining that to him.”
They both laughed, and I joined in, so I wouldn’t seem like I wasn’t paying attention, but I was seriously confused. My mom was really going to let the fact that I’d vanished for two days with a random stranger—a guy, no less—just slide?
“And the breast-feeding is still going well, too? No issues?” she asked, still enjoying her tea, like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Mmhmm, yes,” Molly answered, a pleased and proud expression spreading across her face. “Very well. And we weighed Ruby yesterday at the clinic, and she’s already starting to gain back what she lost after birth.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so glad. Well, things are going well here. You’re not to worry. Daddy and I jumped back into the swing of things with no issues. Breakfast went smoothly this morning. I made those spectacular orange scones. Oh, and there is a lovely couple from—”
“Are you kidding me?” I finally said, my eyes wide as I gripped the untouched glass of tea in my hand. There was sweat dripping down my temples from the ungodly summer temperature, making me wonder why in the world we were sitting outside.
It could have been one of the contributing factors to my outburst as I adjusted in my seat, hating the feeling of my damp shirt sticking to my back.
“What seems to be wrong, dear?” my mother asked, looking as fresh as a daisy as she leaned back in her reclining chair, drinking tea with a big, fat grin on her face.
“Oh my God,” I finally said. “Did you bring me out here on purpose?”
“What?” she said, her eyebrows rising in a deliberately innocent expression.
“You did!” I rose to my feet. “You brought me out here knowing I couldn’t tolerate the heat well anymore, hoping I’d, what? Sweat my secrets out to you?”
My mother, the one who’d kissed my boo-boos and sung lullabies at night when I couldn’t sleep, looked up at me with that same amused, doe-eyed expression before turning to Molly. Both of them seemed like they were about to burst.
Until, finally, they did.
Laughter filled the patio.
I rolled my eyes, my hands flying up in defeat as I turned on my heels, preparing to storm off.
“Oh, come on!” Molly said. “Don’t go. She was only messing with you.”
Letting out a giant huff, I pivoted back around and plopped back down on the chair, still uncomfortable.
Still hot.
Still annoyed.
But, this time, I grabbed my sweet tea and downed half of the glass in a single gulp as my sister and mother chuckled in the background.
“We had to get even with you for not responding to our text messages,” my mother said. “That, and it is nice to know you actually still want to talk to me about these kinds of things.”
“I don’t want—”
She gave me a look.
One of those motherly don’t-mess-with-me looks.
“Okay, maybe I do,” I replied.
“I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit,” she said, grabbing the pitcher of sweet tea so that she could top off my glass. She went around and did the same
for Molly’s and her own as well.
“Because I’m twenty-eight years old,” I said. “I shouldn’t need my mommy anymore.”
Her face grew serious as she set down her tea and took both of our hands in her own. “My own mama died sixteen years ago, and there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t need her,” she said as I watched her lip tremble. “Every daughter needs a mother whether you’re all grown-up”—her eyes fell to mine with a gentle smile—“or brand-new.” That same smile traveled to Molly. “And I’ll be here for you as long as I’m able.”
She squeezed our hands and let out a breath, blinking her eyes several times, like she was willing away tears before turning her attention back on me. “Now, he must be a special one if you want to tell me about it.”
I scrunched my face and looked out at the water for a moment. “It’s complicated,” I finally answered.
“Oh, boy,” she said. “Not another one.”
“Another one?” Molly scoffed. “I’m not complicated.” She folded her arms across her chest, doing her best impression of indignant.
“Oh, please!” I laughed. “Sulking around here for twelve years? And then almost marrying your best friend? That’s not complicated?”
She leaned back in her chair, her eyes locked on mine until she finally gave up. Shrugging, she looked at Mom and said, “Okay, but I’m not complicated anymore.”
“No, but what a hell of a time it took to get you there. I knew it was only a matter of time with your sister. You know Maria from my bridge club? Each of her two daughters? No drama. Simply met a nice man, fell in love, got married. No muss, no fuss. But my daughters? Nothing but drama!”
I didn’t know if she was talking to herself or us at this point.
“So, tell me about your fellow,” she finally said, her voice soothing, as I sat back in the seat, the heat no longer as bothersome as it once had been.
I clutched my sweet tea in my hands and closed my eyes as I thought of Aiden.
“He’s not my fellow,” I finally answered.
“But you want him to be,” my mother’s voice replied.
I let out a sigh, opening my eyes to the water’s edge spread out before me. “We’re just being casual, Mom. That’s what single people do. Date. It’s not a big deal.”