It felt . . . nice.
It had been a long time since she’d felt that close to someone. When Trev had suggested they move to Fool’s Falls, she’d agreed, hoping that it would patch the gaping cracks in their marriage, even though she wasn’t sure Trev even wanted that. But it was like trying to repair a suspension bridge with Flex Seal . . . despite the miraculous promises, it was never going to work. With five years’ distance in her rearview mirror, she was astounded at how scared she’d been about failing in the marriage, how determined she’d been that she could somehow, some way, make Trev and Kit have an improved relationship, that she could be the kind of wife that could raise her son and make her husband happy.
Fool’s Falls was a good community—or at least, she had to assume it was, since Deb and Harrison and even Kit seemed to do well there—but she’d never felt like she fit in. It was so weird how something so Hallmark could make her feel so isolated. She knew being in a bad marriage hadn’t helped matters, and the divorce had made her isolate, an injured animal licking her wounds in her den. Since then, she’d found herself lost, and cranky with exhaustion, and simply drifting.
Aiden was the closest thing to a true friend that she’d made in a decade.
She didn’t know what to do with that. Her stomach twisted with awkwardness. Should she text him, see if he wanted to maybe play some Blood Saga? Of course, she’d just seen him that morning. And he’d just gotten his cast off. Surely, he’d want to see someone else, do something else?
Gah. This was why she didn’t make IRL friends. It was easier when she had a task, an assignment. When she was useful. Just asking for his attention felt wrong and twisted her already knotty anxiety into a braid.
Fuck it. Just eat something, watch something, go to bed. She probably wouldn’t get much sleep （read: any sleep）， but at least she had a game plan.
Before she could turn to her kitchen, she saw the flash of headlights through her kitchen windows, and her stomach dropped.
Who the hell is coming to my house on a Friday night?
She felt her heart pound with adrenaline. As irritated as she’d been with Deb’s observation, she had made a good point: it was hard to be a woman alone in this house, on this property. When Trev had first moved out, she’d cried herself to sleep, not because she missed him—they were too far gone for that—but because she’d been scared. The place had seemed too wild, too big, too frightening for her to handle on her own. It was only her stubborn love for her son, her determination to protect him and not to fuck up his life, that had provided the fuel in her engine to continue.
Only now Kit was gone—and despite her big attitude, she knew, practically, that she was a five-foot-tall biracial Asian woman in the middle of fucking nowhere. Maybe Deb was right: she ought to have gotten a dog.
Gritting her teeth, she went to the hall closet, grabbing an aluminum bat. Whoever was there came up to the door, knocking. She peered through the peephole. Then she opened the door, slowly. “Aiden?”
He grinned. His light-auburn hair was tamed a bit, suggesting he’d had a shower since seeing her that morning. He was bearing a pizza box and a bag. “Hey there,” he said, before taking in her holding her bat. “Bad time?”
“No, no. I just . . . I didn’t know who you were.”
Now his cheeks pinkened a little. “Shit. I should’ve thought of that,” he said, sounding sheepish. “I would’ve called, but I wanted to surprise you. I know you said that pizza doesn’t deliver out here, so I figured I’d bring you some. We’ll probably need to heat it up, though. And I got some ice cream too.”
She felt relief pour through her like cool water. She leaned the bat against the wall and took the pizza and the bag of ice cream. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to babysit me and help me out with my foot, but you were awesome, and I wanted to say thank you.”
“You don’t have to say thank you either,” she said, that embarrassment squirming through her insides as she tucked the ice cream in the freezer and checked the pizza, trying to figure out how best to heat it back up. She preheated the oven, getting out a large cookie sheet and placing the whole thing on it.
“I wanted to.”
She glanced over to find him smiling at her, a warm, almost amused smile. “It was no problem at all.”
He glanced around. “Did you have plans for tonight, or anything? Damn. I thought . . . I probably should’ve thought this through more, I guess.”
She barked out a laugh. “Dude, what plans would I possibly have? I am the least social person you know.”
“Other than me,” he said, chuckling in response. “I love that about you, actually.”
She blinked. He looked startled.
“I mean . . . you’re an introvert, like me. I don’t feel exhausted with you.”
“That’s a ringing endorsement,” she said.
“I’m sorry! I mean . . .”
“No, I wasn’t being facetious,” she quickly added. “Trust me, I get it. Most people drain me like an old cell phone battery. You don’t exhaust me either. I feel better after I hang out with you.”
She frowned. She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t realized she actually thought that, come to it. But it was true.
She cleared her throat, busying herself with the pizza. “You’re sharing this with me, right?”
“If that’s okay?”
She rolled her eyes, feeling bristly and vulnerable. “Sure, sure. Maybe pick something to watch on Netflix, huh?”
He fiddled with her remote, and she felt her heart beating funny again. It was similar to fear, but she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was residual adrenaline.
Yeah. She’d go with that.
They settled on her couch. He’d decided to choose Arcane, and she found herself swept up in the story and the gorgeous art style. Just like they always did, they chattered back and forth as they demolished the pizza, making comments about the show and the characters. When she’d gotten them both bowls of ice cream, they’d debated the pros and cons of different flavors, letting the series roll from one episode to another.
She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep. Between the heat from the fireplace and the heat from Aiden at her side, she found her eyes going low lidded, felt herself yawning. Now, she snuggled a little against the hard pillow under her cheek. Bleary, she looked up.
Aiden was looking down at her, his smile gentle, his gray eyes bright. He was stroking her hair, petting her as soothingly as he’d petted Duchess.
Which was when she realized her head was in his lap.
She sat up so fast she got a head rush. “I’m sorry!”
“For what?” He grinned. “For falling asleep through Arcane? Because I’ll probably make you watch those episodes, not gonna lie. You need to see them to get the full story line.”
“That I . . . that my head was . . .” A blush heated her cheeks, and she felt like a complete idiot. “That I used you as a pillow,” she eventually landed on. Which sounded not-great but was better than sorry I had my cheek really close to your dick there.