This chapter has some sexual language (just warning ya). #sorrynotsorry
As the night wound down, proving to be absolutely worthless to my mission, I decided this would be a good time to find Aiden and hash everything out. He was wasted, I was halfway there, and the girls were all flirting with oily youths or old guys. I crossed the bar to the booth where I'd seen him disappear, only to find it empty. My heart sank. Disappointed, I slid into the booth, hoping some of his indefinable magic, the magic I was so attracted to, was left behind. Looking around, I found none.
I was alone. Again.
My head sank down to the table, and I hid my face in my arms.
Then, suddenly, I heard someone clumsily get into the booth next to me.
I was about to tell them to fuck off when I looked up and saw Aiden, looking at me with drunken profundity.
"Hello, darling," he said obnoxiously, his accent more pronounced than usual.
"Aiden."
"That's meee," he affirmed with a large smile, seemingly content with being correctly identified.
"How much have you had to drink?"
"How much have you had to drink, nosy? You and your girlies are really being very insufferable, making the poor bartender give you free drinks in return for sexual favors you will never give," he shot, looking at me with squinted eyes, "Oh, did I say bartender? I meant Daniel."
He paused.
"Or, perhaps you were planning on fucking him, just to get a kick out of messing with my mind."
His coarse language was unusually jarring, causing me to flinch each time he spat out a harsh consonant.
I said nothing, tears pooling in my eyes, facing straight ahead.
He didn't speak for a long time.
"I'm sorry," he said, a measure softer. I turned to face him, and I think he saw how distressed I looked. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off by putting his hand on my thigh.
"Emily, I need to tell you something. It's very important to me that you listen without interrupting me, because I am very drunk and any stray comment from you could possibly send me into a fury."
He said this in a jokey tone, although I could see a glint of something more dangerous in his eyes.
"I'm sorry about what I just said. I'm sorry about passing judgment about the Daniel situation—I know I would do the same thing. I did not deserve that comment about my sister, though. I was just trying to help," he said calmly, using his body to push me further into the booth until my head was against the wall.
"Aiden, I know, I'm sorr—"
His hand's grip on my leg tightened.
"No. I told you, I am in a very delicate mental state right now. I do not want to fight, I do not want to loom, I just want to explain everything."
My breath quickened. His hand on my leg twitched.
Something was coming, and I was apprehensive to say the least.
He moved in closer, until it became uncomfortable for me.
I inhaled sharply, and then scowled. He was trying to make me squirm, and it was working.
He had an odd power over me, and I found I could not look away from him, could not force myself to seek refuge elsewhere in the bar, could not think of any plausible excuse to leave him.
Taking a deep breath, he continued.
"I know your games, Emily. I know you said those things to deliberately push me away. And I won't have it. You didn't mean them, and I won't have a bit of it."
Readjusting his body so that the large expanse of his chest faced me, he leaned in and looked me directly in the eyes.
"I. See. Right. Through. You. I always have, and I always will. Jack, Daniel, whoever else there's been—they don't understand you. I'm not making claims, I'm not jealous, I'm simply stating facts."
Suddenly, it was like I snapped out of a daze.
"Who do you think you are?" I said lowly. "You think you can come in here and bodily trap me in a booth while you rant on about understanding me? Is that it?"
He looked down.
"Emily…"
A warning.
"Oh no, don't pull that caveman bullshit on me right now—"
His eyes flashed, and I could see something in him snap.
"Don't!" he growled in a forceful, yet low, voice. "Don't pretend like you don't owe me this."
He got even closer, leaning so that we were nearly nose-to-nose, every part of our body that could align aligning.
"You are the most infuriating person I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. I love you. I love you, Emily, and I have regretted leaving you in Japan every second of every day since."
He made a move as if to leave, unforgivingly separating our bodies so that I gasped, then returned just as quickly.
Getting in close, he grabbed where my neck meets my face with both hands, and whispered harshly into my ear, "I have to physically restrain myself whenever I see you—restrain myself from grabbing you and taking you home with me and fucking you until neither of us can walk."
Stroking my face tenderly, surveying me with hot eyes, he continued, with the same unforgiving tone, "My entire body is telling me to throw you against any flat surface, bury my face in between your legs, and not stop until you scream my name."
He abruptly pulled away, leaving me gasping for breath and trembling.
Regarding me with conflicted eyes, he said, "I'm sorry, but I'm very drunk, and very sad."
He kissed me softly on the forehead, then smiled sadly at me.
"But I did warn you."
He got up and left.
