Amanda leans forward on the table and points at him. “Those teeth, are they real?”
Aaron chuckles while licking the front of his teeth—why is that sexy to me? “They’re real.”
Slapping the table, Amanda says, “God, they’re white. Do you use that charcoal toothpaste that’s all the rage now?”
“No, just brush them.”
“Uh-uh, don’t you bullshit me, Walters. Those teeth aren’t white from just brushing.” Amanda turns to me. “I mean look at them, Amelia, his teeth glow in the dark. Look at him.”
Rolling my eyes, I glance at Aaron who’s shyly smirking at me. It’s the same smile I fell in love with five years ago, the one that effortlessly captured my heart. It’s a shy smile but packed full of sex appeal.
“They’re not glow-in-the-dark white. They’re . . . nice.”
He winks at me, which causes my stomach to flip.
Wanting to change the subject, I say, “Amanda, instead of ogling Aaron’s teeth, why don’t you inform him of the insanely inappropriate crush you have on the governor of New York.”
Amanda gives me a death glare but I don’t care. Payback’s a bitch, and she’s rearing her ugly head right now.
“The governor?” Aaron asks, completely oblivious to the lasers shooting out of Amanda’s eyes. “As in Governor Paul? Do you like watching him on TV, or something?”
“She works for him.”
Aaron now turns his entire body toward Amanda and pokes her in the arm. “You work for the governor, and you’re crushing on him? Got a little office romance going on there?”
“No!” Amanda pushes her tiles out of the way, brat mode now infringing on our little game. “I never said I was crushing on him, I said he was hot. That’s completely different.”
“Isn’t he ten years older than you?” Aaron asks.
“Which makes him thirty-five, a healthy age for a man. He’s only five years older than you, so don’t start judging age, because you’re almost forty.”
“Uh, not even close, but thanks for reminding me.” Aaron sits back in his chair and eyes Amanda. “Tell me, what do you like most about him? The way he steeples his hands when he gives speeches?”
Pausing for a second, I watch the wheels spinning in Amanda’s head. “I actually like how his pants are so tight I can see the outline of his cock when he talks to me.”
“I don’t know why I even asked.” Aaron chuckles to himself.
A little curious, I ask, “Can you really see the outline of his cock?” Aaron’s eyebrows shoot up when he looks at me.
“Oh yeah, and let’s just say . . . it’s huge.” Amanda shakes her head. “Shame he’s such a bastard though. He seems charming in person, but he’s a real asshole.”
“Yeah, shame.” Aaron yawns and looks at his watch. “I should go. I crashed your party for too long. I came over to make sure everything was fine with your power.” He takes in the well-lit house. “Looks like everything is good to go.”
“Yup, I’m good. Thanks for checking on me.”
Silence falls between us. I can feel Amanda’s focused attention, waiting for what’s to come next. Fortunately she speaks up. “I have to go to the bathroom. Aaron, it was great seeing you again, but leave my girl alone. Got it?”
He presses his lips together and nods. “Got it.”
Leaving abruptly, Amanda takes off toward the bathroom. Standing from the table, I say, “I’ll walk you out.”
“I don’t get any leftovers?” he jokes while we head to the front door.
“It’s the penance you pay for crashing our gathering.”
“Fair enough.” When he gets to the door, he opens it but turns toward me, his large frame filling the little entryway. “Amelia,” he breathes out, sorrow in his eyes. “I want you to know I respect your relationship with your boyfriend.” And there is the man I fell in love with all those years ago.
“Okay,” I say meekly, unsure how to react to that. Do I say thank you? Thanks for changing your mind and not seeing us as inevitable after all?
He tilts my chin up, so I’m forced to look into those soulful eyes of his. “I had my chance with you as Amanda pointed out tonight. I lost that, and I get it. I really do. Will I regret that decision for the rest of my life? Yes. And no. Yes, for selfish reasons, but honestly, look at where you are now. You’re helping kids, doing the job you always dreamed of, and I like to think I had a very small part in you accomplishing your dreams, no matter how much it’s killed me.” He pulls me into his chest, his arms wrapping around me. God, I love being in his arms. “I’m here if you need me . . . as a friend, and I mean that. Okay?”
I nod, feeling a little choked up. It almost feels like this is the breakup we were meant to have. It makes me incredibly sad. It feels like he’s saying goodbye all over again. I wonder if he’ll be able to be my friend, or if he will pull away from that too. And maybe one day I’ll have to watch him fall in love with someone else.
He kisses the top of my head, rubs my back a few times until I want to bury myself into his chest, but pulls away before I make a fool of myself.
“Tell Amanda I had a good time. Good night, Amelia.”
He shuts the door behind him, leaving me extremely confused and emotional.
Amanda finds me standing in the entryway. When I turn to her, there are tears in my eyes. “Oh honey, come here.” Amanda pulls me into a hug and holds me tightly. “Do you still love him?”
“I don’t know,” I say on a wet sob. “Is it possible to love two men?”
“I think it’s possible, but the question is, who are you in love with?”
“I have no freaking idea. Am I only mourning what I used to have? I truly loved Aaron deep within my soul. Is that a feeling I’ll be able to get rid of?” From the skeptical look on her face, I think she doesn’t think so.
Does that mean I’m still soul-deep in love with Aaron Walters?
Chapter Seventeen
AARON
Tapping the little metal table I’m sitting at, I look at my watch one more time. Forty-five fucking minutes late. I should be used to this. I shouldn’t be irritated, or ready to punch a fucking wall, because this shit will never change. Ever. It’s just a reminder of every practice I missed, every game I couldn’t attend, and all the parties that happened without me.
She can’t ever be on fucking time.
It’s like time doesn’t exist to her.
Her lack of common courtesy for the people around her drives me fucking nuts.
Leaning forward on the table, I try to calm my anger in case she decides to show up. I stare at the concrete below me through the metal slats in the table when the telltale smell that haunted my childhood floats by me.
Looking to the side, I see my mom, cigarette in hand, sunglasses covering her hollow eyes, and her hair looking stringy, unhealthy. She’s frail, skeleton-like in her loose jeans and baggy shirt that’s tied at her thin waist. I remember thinking she was beautiful, despite her drug use, but now the drugs have caught up to her and she’s no longer vibrant. She’s a shell of who she was.