Killmore

by Martha Sweeney

  “Just hear him out. Talk to him just this once, and if it doesn’t feel right to even just be friends with him, then I’ll understand,” she says. “But, you need to honestly give him a chance to plead his case.”

  “Fine,” I sigh in defeat. Turning, I make my way over to Aiden who is sitting in the far corner table. “Do you mind if I take that seat?”

  “Sure,” he offers, getting up. He steps close to me, placing his hand on my arm.

  “Thanks,” I reply once I’m seated and the dogs are at our feet under the table.

  “Have trouble being in areas where you can’t see what’s going on behind you, huh?” he asks.

  “No,” I deny.

  “It’s okay,” Aiden assures. “It takes some time.”

  “How do you know?” I inspect.

  “I served, remember,” he chuckles.

  “Right,” I say.

  “Who are the flowers for?”

  “Me,” I sigh.

  “Codie?” Aiden states more than asks.

  “Yeah,” I confirm.

  “Looks like he’s intimidated.” Aiden’s smile grows.

  My mouth crinkles to the side, unimpressed by his amusement.

  “You’re safe inside,” he informs. “You can take the glasses off too.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good,” I return.

  “You have beautiful eyes,” he shares.

  I watch his expression and I can tell he’s being honest without trying to deliberately flatter me.

  “I like seeing them,” he adds.

  “You like to see them because eyes give away more than what people think they do,” I counter.

  “That too,” he confirms. “But, I love the color of them…like the sparkling, blue sea in the Caribbean. And, with those dimples, it makes sense as to why guys can’t resist you.”

  “I told you, flattery won’t get you anywhere,” I retort.

  The heat just jumped in the cafe and I have the sudden urge to spring across the table like a mountain lion attacking her prey. My prey would be mauled in a good way. My lady needs are screaming for attention.

  “It’s the truth,” Aiden says. “And, I’m not saying that.”

  “I see what you’re trying to do,” I state.

  “What am I trying to do?”

  “You’re trying to get me to lower my defenses,” I present.

  “Is that such a bad thing, regardless if it’s about our fake relationship or in general?” he poses.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  Aiden laughs. “Thanks, by the way.”

  “For what?” I check.

  “For everything…I appreciate that you’re being cool about this whole thing,” he admits. “I don’t think it’d be as much fun if you weren’t here.”

  “I’m not being cool,” I return. “I’m not excited about it.”

  “You know what I mean,” Aiden answers.

  “Do I?” I check.

  “I hope so,” Aiden teases.

  “Do you know what you want to eat?” I inquire, changing the subject.

  “Yes,” Aiden returns with a devious smile.

  I almost laugh, but curb it with a cough at his innuendo.

  We refrain from talking when Ernie, one of the staff members, comes over to take our order and brings our drinks. Aiden’s not so bad, really. It’s the whole Fed thing. If I’ve got to pretend a fake relationship with someone, at least he’s nice to look at.

  When we’re finally left alone and it’s safe to continue talking, I ask, “So, how’s today’s meal supposed to go?”

  “What do you mean?” Aiden checks.

  “Am I supposed to be a little impressed, but still completely angry? Or, am I the kind of girl who really does care that you’re back in my life, but I’m going to make you sweat just a little and play hard to get?”

  “Good question,” Aiden replies. “Which one do you want to be?”

  “Hmm…well, with our current ages, if we met when we were twenty-two, but didn’t start dating until a year later…and you said we’d been together for three years before you broke it off, that would have made me twenty-six when you broke my heart,” I state.

  “We’ll, for that whole year after I ended it, I was tied up with the mission, or literally tied up as a captive and then there was recovery,” Aiden informs. “Making me not returning from duty until you’re twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight depending on when your birthday would be. I would be in the hospital and therapy for a while, and it would take some time before I’d feel confident to see you again. And, with you only being thirty-four, you’re still young. You’ve might have tried to move on, but I was your true love, so none of the others after me worked out.”

  “I’m not that young,” I challenge.

  “Didn’t you hear that the thirties are the new twenties?” Aiden asks with a smile.

  “No,” I remark.

  “It makes sense,” Aiden says.

  “What does?”

  “Things between you and Codie,” Aiden explains. “Even though you’ve been with him…on again and off again for what…?”

  “Two years,” I answer hesitantly.

  “You’re not interested in the guy which lines up great with what we’re doing,” Aiden states the obvious. “Plus, look at how the guy bought you flowers and you haven’t even glanced over at them since we’ve sat down.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I inspect.

  Aiden raises and eyebrow. “It means, that he hasn’t popped into your head at any point. Codie hasn’t caused you to look at the flowers and admired them because you know what he meant by sending them,” Aiden comments.

  “I know what he meant,” I share. “I read the card.”

  “Where is it?”

  “What?”

  “The card. What did you do with it?”

  I purposefully don’t answer.

  “Is it in your bag, or, is it in the trash?” Aiden searches.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because, what you did with the card will answer how you feel about Codie. It’s not that you hate the guy or anything…it’s just if you did throw it away, which I’m guessing you did…that it just means you don’t have an emotional attachment to him, which is why you don’t care about the flowers,” Aiden expounds. “If you have it in your purse, there’s a slight possibility for him. However, knowing that I was coming today, you could have used either outcome.”

  “Why would I have cared what I did with the card, let alone carefully decide what to do with it, knowing that you were coming?” I ask.

  “Simple…your actions, for you and those around you, including me, could be seen as a number of things. If you threw away the card, it would mean to them that you still have feelings for me. However, you could have held onto the card and they’d think the same thing because they would speculate that you wouldn’t want to be so obvious. The only person in this whole situation who would be clueless is Codie,” Aiden explains.

  “You’ve given this a lot of thought,” I state with amusement.

  “There’s a lot of psychology that goes into what we do, our work, aside from what people do in general,” Aiden says.

  “I know,” I agree. “Sometimes, no matter what you do, you’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t. People’s perspective on any given situation can change, being swayed by their own emotions as well as suggestions.”

  Aiden smiles. “I hope we don’t over psycho-analyze everything we do.”

  “Do you mean we as in you and me?” I check.

  “Maybe,” Aiden answers. “Sometimes you need to switch off your brain and trust your gut.”

  “Your gut is always right,” I comment. “People think too much overall…but then again, many don’t think at all.”

  “What’s your gut telling you right now?” Aiden searches.

  “About what in particular?”

  “Me?”

  I stay quiet, thinking about my an
swer while being careful not to give anything away with any kind of an expression. “Not sure yet,” I finally share.

  “Come on?” Aiden pries. “I know you know the answer.”

  “I do,” I admit.

  “Then, tell me,” he requests.

  “No,” I refuse.

  “Why not?”

  I don’t reply.

  “Hmm,” Aiden muses.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he returns with a grin.

  Our food arrives and we start eating.

  We’re both quiet for the first few minutes until Aiden breaks the silence. “So, what were your plans after work?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I am trying to woo my ex-girlfriend, remember?” he reminds with a chuckle.

  “She’s not sure if she wants to tell you,” I remark.

  “It’s probably still a little early for her to just jump back into my arms,” Aiden states.

  “Jump?” I muse.

  Aiden smiles as he takes his next bite. “So, what’s the story behind your parents?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What does everyone think?” Aiden asks.

  “No one knows anything,” I share. “The only people who come to visit me are Becky and Bob, and nobody that I know of have seen them. They come right to the house once or twice a year.”

  “What does Trudy and the boys know?” Aiden presses gently.

  “Nothing,” I admit. “There are things that Trudy and I just don’t talk about.”

  She doesn’t even know I go to visit her parents on occasion to help take the weight that I sometimes feel off my shoulders, let alone know that her brother and parents know the truth about my past. It’s going to stay that way, for their protection.

  “Well, if it comes up, what do you want to say? We’ve already established a fake brother who was in the military with me,” Aiden reminds.

  “I have a real brother…” my voice cracks at the thought of him.

  “Hey,” Aiden calls, but I don’t look in his direction. “Hey.”

  “What?” I return sharply. I’m suddenly aware of where I am and feel his warm, large hand draped over mine as his thumb brushes over my knuckles. My hand snaps back a few seconds later.

  “It must be hard,” Aiden states. “Having them think your….”

  “It’s not easy,” I say quickly, wanting to end the conversation.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No,” I snap. Movement from the front of the cafe catches my attention suddenly and I quickly close my eyes and shake my head, hoping I didn’t see what I saw.

  “What’s wrong?” Aiden asks with a worried tone.

  “Nothing,” I dismiss as I ignore the person.

  “Laurie?” he presses.

  I sigh. “Drama is coming.”

  “What?” Aiden asks. Before he gets the chance to look over his shoulder a body suddenly appears at our table.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Codie greets, bending at the waist to kiss me.

  I angle my head so all he can reach is my cheek. “Hey,” I answer flatly.

  Without greeting Aiden, Codie sits down next to me after he drags a chair over from the other table. “Did you get my gift?”

  Codie drapes his arm along the back of my chair, so I sit up, trying to avoid the contact. “You remember Aiden, right?” I state.

  “Oh, hey, man,” Codie greets, sliding his chair closer to mine.

  “Seriously?” I say.

  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by his antics. Codie is clearly jealous.

  “What?” Codie feigns confusion.

  I wipe my mouth and stand up. “Thanks for the meal, Aiden.”

  Aiden rises, but doesn’t comment.

  Codie stands too, asking, “Where are you going?”

  Ignoring Codie, I look to Aiden and say, “I’ll call you.”

  That should put Codie in his place better.

  “Do you want me to walk you out?” Aiden offers.

  “Why are you leaving?” Codie presses.

  Aiden and I ignore him.

  “Don’t worry about the bill,” I mention to Aiden.

  “Why?” he checks.

  I smile and he understands. I can see that he wants to argue with me about it, but knows not to.

  Aiden lets me go, not saying another word or touching me.

  Codie whines and follows me out, but I ignore him the entire time. He’s only making this worse for himself.

  Twenty Two - Aiden

  The past week I’ve been able to see Laurie two times in private with many instances in public. Sometimes our meetings are planned while others aren’t. Anytime we’re scheduled to be in public, we focus on just being in the moment, leaving work out of our conversations and I’m thankful for it. It’s nice not to have to think about the job all the time. She’s a great distraction. I’ve been trying to run into her more, on purpose on my end, wanting and needing to see her, not for work but for my own selfish reasons. Paul was right, I do have something for her. Now, I just need to learn how to get it under control while doing my job at the same time.

  Codie was a complete dick several more times other than at lunch with Laurie and me when he sent her the flowers. I watched him through the windows to make sure he didn’t try anything with her as she left the cafe and got into her truck. I know she can handle herself, but I wanted to make sure the guy didn’t do anything stupid. To me, there was a good chance he would which would force Laurie to either punch him or perhaps shoot him.

  Most of the time Laurie and I have been in public together, I see Codie watching us from a distance. I think the guy is harmless — stupid, but harmless. I’m hoping I can convince Trudy to have a talk with the guy or maybe have his brother do it.

  Overall, Laurie seems a bit more comfortable with me. I haven’t pushed to hold hands or kiss her in public, but I’ve noticed that she seems less tense when I’ve stood closer to her. I know we’re not at that point in our fake relationship, but I’m dying to kiss her again. I’m hoping to see if I can push for us to practice in private since she’s coming over today.

  “Hey,” Laurie greets, rushing in through the kitchen door.

  “Hey,” I return.

  We head into the living room to where our drinks and some food are waiting. The dogs curl up on the floor at our feet as we sit on the couch. Cain and Mable have been much more relaxed around me. I’m not sure if it’s because Laurie’s more relaxed or what, but I don’t mind. Anytime she’s over and uses the bathroom, I’m able to play with the dogs a little bit. I even got them some treats and toys to play with while they’re over. Laurie wasn’t excited by the idea at first, but she seems to tolerate it now.

  Laurie’s still pretty quiet when it comes to revealing anything about herself. I purposefully try to see if I can get her to smile more than the last time, picturing when I’ll be able to taste her again. Her mouth is distracting.

  “Hey,” I say, wanting to change our twenty minutes of silence since the television has been on and we’ve just been watching and eating.

  “Hey,” she returns without looking at me.

  “I was thinking,” I start, “this week we should have our first official date.”

  “What? What do you mean?” she asks nervously.

  “I mean, the fake Aiden and Laurie having a test date,” I mention.

  She looks away like she knew it was going to eventually come up but has been avoiding it.

  “Do you want to pick, or do you want me to surprise you?” I inquire.

  “I hate surprises,” she returns.

  “Is that the real Laurie, or the fake one,” I joke.

  “Both,” she answers, seeming more uncomfortable.

  “Hey,” I call, reaching across the couch. My hand takes her’s and her body jolts a little. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to….”

  “It’s okay,” she returns. “I…I know we need to do this.” Her eyes finally lift to meet mine.r />
  “We’ll take it slow, I promise,” I encourage.

  “Yeah, said no man ever,” she nervously giggles.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I return with feigned hurt feelings.

  “Nothing,” she says, trying to cover her intention.

  “That wasn’t nothing,” I press back playfully. “You know, that hurt.”

  “What?” she laughs. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No,” I answer, trying so hard not to smile. “Not all men want to rush things.”

  “Bullshit,” she snaps. “All men want to rush…rush to be naked and have sex.”

  “Well you just completely made it sexual now,” I say.

  “You know I’m right,” she returns.

  “Some men,” I admit. “Not all.”

  “All,” she presses. “Regardless of their sexual orientation…which, should I know yours?”

  “What? What the hell are you talking about?” I ask nervously.

  “Well, it wouldn’t be good if I’m pretending to be in a relationship with a gay guy and not know he’s really gay, would it?” she mentions.

  “I’m not gay,” I confirm. “I assure you.”

  “It’s okay if you are. You can tell me,” Laurie taunts. “I don’t judge. I just need to know for certain reasons.”

  “Like what?” I inspect.

  “Well, if you are gay, it makes a lot of this easier on me,” she says.

  “How so?”

  She smirks, but doesn’t answer.

  “I’m not gay,” I repeat.

  “I believe you,” she returns, trying to maintain a straight face.

  “I kissed you in public, remember?”

  “Lot’s of gay men kiss women,” Laurie teases. “Do you know how many gay and bisexual men there are in politics and other key positions?”

  “I’m not gay,” I repeat, unamused at how much she’s enjoying this conversation.

  “Had any curious moments?” she presses with a chuckle.

  “That’s it,” I say, lunging at her.

  Laurie moves quickly, but I’m able to pin her to the couch with my body. My left hand has her arms locked above her head by the wrists. He legs wrap around my waist, trying to squeeze the air out of me. Lifting, I try to reposition us, but I end up dropping us back to the cushions. Realizing that she’s going to either knock the wind out of me or seriously bruise or crack a rib of mine, I do the one thing I know to do in any fight that has no rules: improvise and distract.