Playing It Safe

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

You tend to do really stupid things when you’re down in the dumps. Not showering would probably be high on that list. It is for me at least. Eating lots of ice cream is another. Inventing a drinking game while watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey is yet another. This one was surprisingly easy, with the majority of tequila shots happening when any of the housewives looked at jewelry, talked about jewelry, or tried jewelry on. I had to stop playing since I was getting hammered twenty minutes into the second episode.

Another really stupid thing I’ve done is ignore Sabrina’s calls and texts all weekend. I cannot bring myself to talk to her yet. I know she’ll be full of sage advice and soothing words of comfort and all the other good stuff that comes along with being my best friend. But for right now, I want to wallow in my despair just a little while longer.

Alex still hasn’t called or texted me. Not that I expected him to.

There was a very small part of me that was hanging on to the crazy idea that he’d show up here as if nothing had ever happened. Well here it is, Sunday night, and nothing, not a peep. Just me and my jar of peanut butter, which I’ve been eating with my fingers while watching the 700 Club for the last hour because I’m too lazy to change the channel.

I’m in the midst of trying to figure out what is going on with Pat Robertson’s hair when my house phone rings again. I glance over at it thinking that it’s Sabrina again, but it’s not. It’s Aiden.

I can’t explain why I reach over and answer. You might as well ask me why the sky is blue. I would probably have a more logical answer for that one. Because I know that I shouldn’t be talking to him at all. Even though what he told me about Alex and Marisa was partially true, I think, I do realize that any further discussion with him has bad written all over it. But being the complete jackass that I am and a glutton for punishment, I pick up the phone.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer the phone.”

“That makes two of us,” I answer.

After a brief silence he says, “Listen, I heard what happened.”

“How did—”

“Sophia.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I reply with a sarcastic laugh. “Your fiancée.”

“I’m really sorry, Julia.”

“Please don’t. It’s worse coming from you of all people. No offense.”

“None taken,” he says. “How are you doing?”

“Let’s see … I’ve definitely had better days, and if the remote doesn’t magically come to me, I’m going to be forced to watch the 700 Club for the rest of my life. So yeah, on a scale of one to ten on the suckage scale, I’d say I’m about a solid nine right about now.”

“I was thinking maybe I’d come by and keep you company for a little while,” he says.

I almost choke on the dollop of peanut butter I’ve just eaten clean off my finger.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Um,” I sputter while still trying to clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, Aiden, I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks out of left field.

“No, not really, but I don’t see how—”

“I’ll swing by and bring you something to eat,” he says, interrupting me.

“Aiden, I really—”

“Julia, please let me do this. I feel awful and would really like to make it up to you.”

“I am hungry, but—”

“Great, I’ll be there in about half an hour,” he says and then hangs up after saying a quick good-bye.

I stare at the phone still in my hand, wondering what just happened. The only rational explanation that I can come up with is that I’ve crossed over into the Twilight Zone. It’s either that or coming to terms with the fact that I’ve somehow agreed to eat a meal in my house with my engaged ex-boyfriend while I’m feeling sorry for myself about Alex. And that sounds absolutely insane, so I’m going to go with the Rod Serling explanation on this one.

This also means that I’ll have to cut short my pursuit of how many days I can go without a shower. My personal best is four days, and that stretch was due to the one and only Aiden. Not that I’m particularly proud of it, but it’s an accomplishment nonetheless.

I drag my ass to the bathroom and take a brisk shower and then get dressed and don’t even blow-dry my hair. Before I make it back to my home base on the couch, I unlock the door so I won’t have to be bothered to stand up again when he gets here.

Dammit all to hell.

I forgot to pick up the remote control before I sat back down, so it looks like I’ll be stuck watching this crap until Aiden shows up. Instead of trying to make sense of the ramblings coming from my television, I try to figure out why he’s even coming. He said something about wanting to make it up to me. Again with the absolution bullshit. Or am I that much of a bitch that I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s really trying to be sincere and genuinely feels bad about the current state of affairs? I massage my temples as the light throbbing in my head gets worse with each minute that I sit here trying to analyze Aiden’s motives. I give up. Maybe he truly does want to make amends, and hey, I’m getting a meal out of his repentance, so there’s that.


A few moments later a knock on the door breaks me out of my thoughts. I shout to let him know that the door is unlocked, and it slowly swings open. Aiden pokes his head inside, and as soon as he spots me on the couch, his smile widens.

“Can I come in?”

“Enter at your own risk.”

He chuckles as he closes the door behind him. In his hand is a white nondescript bag with visible grease stains. My stomach grumbles in response.

Aiden glances at the television as he comes closer. “Shit, you weren’t kidding with the whole 700 Club thing, huh?”

My eyes are still focused on the bag of food when I answer him. “Nope, and if you don’t mind, can you please hand me that remote control over there?”

I point toward the far corner of the ottoman where the goddamn thing has been taunting me for the last couple of hours. He picks it up and then hands it to me, and I immediately start browsing the channel guide until I settle on a Friends rerun.

It’s then that I get a whiff of the food in the bag. And if my olfactory senses are still attuned to anything and everything that comes from Sergio’s, then he’s brought me one of my favorite things to eat in the entire world.

“Is that what I think it is?” I ask.

“What?” he asks, then lifts the bag up to his eye level. “You mean this?”

I nod just as my stomach starts to growl again. “Did you bring me a frita?”

“I did,” he says, handing me the bag with a huge grin on his face. “I remembered how much you used to love them. I was hoping you still do.”

He sits down next to me as I dig in and take my first bite. “Oh. My. God.”

“Good?”

I answer him by taking another bite.

While I’m devouring my food, we sit side by side in silence with the occasional chuckle brought on by something funny on the television. Him being here does feel all kinds of weird, but I don’t want to say anything about it yet. At least not until I’m done eating. At that point, I can politely say thanks for the grub and call it a night. After my last bite and during the next commercial break, I get up to get rid of my garbage and start thinking of the best way I can do exactly that. As I open up the refrigerator door to grab a Diet Dr. Pepper, Aiden sneaks up on me though and scares the living shit out of me.

He puts his hands up and then goes to lean against the kitchen counter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “And thank you for bringing me something to eat.”

“You’re welcome, Julia. I meant what I said about wanting to make it up to you, so it was the least I can do.”

“Yeah, about that, Aiden, I appreciate the gesture, but you really don’t have to keep doing that.”

“But I want to,” he says.

I hesitate to find the right words so that I don’t sound like an unappreciative bitch. “That’s just it, Aiden. You shouldn’t want to do anything. It’s been five years since we were together. We didn’t leave off on very good terms, and granted, you did apologize recently, and I really do appreciate that as well, but you’re engaged, and it’s just …”

“Just what?” he asks and takes a step toward me.

“It’s just really strange.” I wave my hands around me and then say, “All of this is.”

“It doesn’t have to be strange, Julia.”

“But it is,” I say in a huff and then catch my breath. As calmly as possible, I add, “Aiden, I’m sorry, but there is no other way to put this than we simply can’t be friends. It’s not healthy for me or you. And I’ll bet you a million dollars that if I don’t get it, then Sophia won’t either.”

He takes another step closer to me. Now he’s within arm’s reach and looking at me with an amused expression in his eyes. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“Oh my God, Aiden,” I gasp. “She doesn’t know that you’re here, does she?”

He shakes his head slightly, and then to my complete shock, his hand comes up to softly cup my cheek. “You’re right, she wouldn’t get it.”

I stiffen as he comes even closer to me. So close that our bodies are brushing against each other. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

Aiden doesn’t answer me with actual words. He does however answer me by bending his head and pressing his lips to mine. It all happens so fast but in slow motion. It’s as if I’m having an out-of-body experience where I’m hovering above us in my kitchen and watching myself be kissed by him. And as strange and foreign as it all looks and feels to me at first, I let him.

I lose myself for a few moments, reveling in the sensation of having him this close again, so desperate for affection from someone that I willingly follow Aiden’s lead. When his hand slowly wraps around my waist to bring us closer together, my hands inch up his chest and grab fistfuls of his T-shirt. He takes this as a sign of encouragement. Aiden groans into my mouth and then spins me around so that my lower back presses against the kitchen counter. It’s when he attempts to lift me onto the countertop a second later that I break off the kiss.

I get a glimpse of his eyes, which are clouded with lust, before he ducks his head and starts raining kisses across my neck and collarbone. I close my eyes and see nothing but Alex. I see the pain I caused him and the pain I’m inevitably creating for myself and others by what’s happening. That’s when reality comes crashing down around me and common sense finally decides to make an appearance.

My hands push against his chest as I say in a quiet voice, “Aiden, please stop.”

“Why?” he asks, slightly breathless against my neck.

“Because I don’t want this.”

He does stop then and lifts his head. Slowly, he grins as if he knows a secret or something. “I know what you want, Julia. I saw it in your face that night at the engagement party. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me.”

“I don’t know what the f*ck you’re talking about, Aiden.”

“Yes you do,” he says with a light chuckle before attempting to kiss me again.

I push back on his chest a little harder this time, and he takes a step back.

“This was nothing more than temporary insanity. I’m sitting here depressed and heartbroken, and you come in with your food and white knight shit, and I fell for it. That’s what this is and nothing more.”

“Is that what you think?” he asks. “Because your body is saying something completely different.”

I snap my fingers in front of his face. “Aiden, you’re engaged, remember?”

“I remember just fine, and I have no intention of ever forgetting that. In fact,” he says while closing the distance between us again, “this will stay just between us. You know, for old time’s sake.”

“Are you mental? Did you lose IQ points when the blood flooded to your dick a few minutes ago? Because there is no way in hell that I end up with you in my bed tonight. Or ever, for that matter. I love Alex.”

“I did you a favor. That guy’s an a*shole,” he says. “Looked at me as if I’m beneath him or some shit when I met him at the engagement party.”

As his lips touch my skin and his hands grab my waist, it all clicks into place like pieces to a puzzle. “Aiden, what did you do?”

“I told you, I did you a favor. Now stop talking so we can get back to what we were doing a few minutes ago.” He lifts his head and looks me dead in the eyes. “I promise you that you won’t be faking it this time.”


“Are you f*cking serious?” I ask in disbelief. “Am I understanding this correctly? You said all that shit about Alex and Marisa and it wasn’t true? All of it because I said I faked every orgasm?”

He chuckles against my skin. “It worked, didn’t it?”

I am officially the stupidest person on the face of the planet. I should have gone with my gut instinct where Aiden was concerned. But instead, here I am, trapped between a rock and a hard place, literally, and I’ve royally f*cked everything up with Alex when he had been telling me the truth the entire time.

I seethe with rage, and my voice almost cracks when I say, “You have three seconds before I go Bernadine on your ass.”

“Who’s Bernadine?” he asks, but keeps right on pressing kisses against my neck.

“Three, two, one. I warned you.”

I bring my leg up and knee him in the balls, silently thanking Billy Blanks for that one month of Tae Bo that I did religiously during the summer.

He stumbles backward a step or two while cupping himself and writhing in pain, and he has the nerve to look genuinely surprised. “What the f*ck, Julia?”

“Get out of my house right now, Aiden. I’m warning you. Don’t make me angry—you won’t like me when I’m angry.”

Barely standing up, he slowly walks toward the front door while cursing under his breath. I follow closely behind. When he reaches it, he turns around to say, “You’re not going to tell Sophia, are you?”

“Good-bye, Aiden.”

He asks one more time.

I put my hands on my hips and swing the door wide open to spell it out for him. “Three, two—”

“Okay, okay, I get the hint,” he says and finally leaves.

I slam the door shut behind his sorry ass and then let out a scream of frustration and anger for falling for his bullshit from the very beginning. How could I have been so easily manipulated? And of all the people to believe over Alex, who has been nothing short of perfect, I chose Aiden? What is wrong with me?

After a few minutes of letting it all sink in, I go into the kitchen to grab my good friend Grey Goose from the freezer. It’s then that I see the list that I was so gung ho about a couple of months ago staring back at me. I stop and tear it out from underneath the magnet that’s keeping it in place, staring at the final entry.

            4. Forget about dickhead and have fun with Alex.

I read it another few times before crumpling it in my hands and throwing it in the garbage can in disgust. Forgetting about the vodka, I end up on the couch again instead. I curl up into a tight ball, mentally cursing myself for not taking my own advice, for not seeing what was right in front of me all along. And trying to figure out how the hell I can possibly get myself out of this mess.