years of working in a bar. Next comes the hand in the front pocket, or the pick at their crotch to readjust a growing hard on. Most of the time, men don’t even realize that they’re doing it. Aiden didn’t do that though. Not because I didn’t notice his growing hard on, because I certainly see that. But because he takes the bottle out of my hand, sets it and his mug on the coffee table, then his hand comes up and goes behind my head. He pulls me to him and plants his lips on mine. I kiss him back. I’m still in the, ‘ I can dream, can’t I’ mode, so I go with it. He runs his hand through my hair, then his thumb comes to my temple and continues down my cheek to my neck, and then to my shoulder. His lips are hot on mine and I kiss him back with the same passion he’s kissing me with. He pulls my shoulders into his body, and then wraps his arm around my waist. His hand comes up my shirt, and that’s where the ‘ I can dream, can’t I’ mode needs to end, and I pull away.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” I tell him, putting my forehead on his chin. “Good night,” I say, and head to the guest bedroom.
I’ve never stopped a man before from kissing me. I’ve never liked a man to kiss me as much as I like the way Aiden kissed me. I’d give my left arm to keep kissing Aiden and for what would have ultimately come next. Men who gave me any kind of attention or kiss me, I was glad to give them what they wanted. It wasn’t about them. It didn’t matter that I was trash, and what I was giving them was trash. Aiden is different, this family is different. He deserves so much better than me.
I strip out of my pants and panties and unhook my bra under my shirt. I pull the straps through the arm holes and crawl into bed in my t-shirt. If I were someone, anyone other than me and the way I was raised and the way I’ve lived my life, I could picture myself with a man like Aiden. I’m doing him a huge favor by not letting him get close to me. I wish someone would tell that to my heart, though. My heart wants what I can’t have. I eventually fall asleep crying.
In the middle of the night, I wake up and get out of bed. I walk to Aiden’s open bedroom door and stand in the doorway. He’s facing me, lying on his side, and he looks so peaceful and handsome. The trees in the window dance shadows on his bare chest and arms. Have you ever been jealous of a tree’s shadow before? I wish it were me, caressing his skin. A sheet covers him from the waist down. His left knee is raised and his hand is resting in front of his face. I can’t help it, I sigh. I look down to my feet at the four-week-old chipped nail polish on my toes, and it reminds me of just who I am. I’m not a spa mani/pedi’s kind of girl. I’m lucky if I can afford cheap nail polish from the dollar store. I look up to take one more look at him before I go back to my own bed, but when I do, Aiden’s blue eyes are staring back at me. Without a word, he pulls the sheet back as an invitation to join him. I don’t hesitate. In my head, I see myself hop, skipping, and jumping, all the way there. But in reality, it was only a few steps. I slip into his bed and he pulls me into his warm body. He covers me with the sheet, and then he wraps his arm around my waist. This time when I fall asleep, it isn’t with tears of sadness, but tears of joy. I can live in denial of who I really am for the moment. I also realize that the, ‘ I can dream, can’t I’ moments, are becoming something I can no longer control.
The next morning, I’m woken up by the lightest touch of Aiden’s finger on my skin as he pulls the hair out of my face. He’s sitting on the bed next to me. He smells amazing and he’s clean shaven, wearing an expensive suit and a killer smile. Waking up in the morning to a sight like this should be illegal. Like, seriously someone needs to take me to jail, save me from myself, because I’m not a strong woman.
“What time
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” I tell him, putting my forehead on his chin. “Good night,” I say, and head to the guest bedroom.
I’ve never stopped a man before from kissing me. I’ve never liked a man to kiss me as much as I like the way Aiden kissed me. I’d give my left arm to keep kissing Aiden and for what would have ultimately come next. Men who gave me any kind of attention or kiss me, I was glad to give them what they wanted. It wasn’t about them. It didn’t matter that I was trash, and what I was giving them was trash. Aiden is different, this family is different. He deserves so much better than me.
I strip out of my pants and panties and unhook my bra under my shirt. I pull the straps through the arm holes and crawl into bed in my t-shirt. If I were someone, anyone other than me and the way I was raised and the way I’ve lived my life, I could picture myself with a man like Aiden. I’m doing him a huge favor by not letting him get close to me. I wish someone would tell that to my heart, though. My heart wants what I can’t have. I eventually fall asleep crying.
In the middle of the night, I wake up and get out of bed. I walk to Aiden’s open bedroom door and stand in the doorway. He’s facing me, lying on his side, and he looks so peaceful and handsome. The trees in the window dance shadows on his bare chest and arms. Have you ever been jealous of a tree’s shadow before? I wish it were me, caressing his skin. A sheet covers him from the waist down. His left knee is raised and his hand is resting in front of his face. I can’t help it, I sigh. I look down to my feet at the four-week-old chipped nail polish on my toes, and it reminds me of just who I am. I’m not a spa mani/pedi’s kind of girl. I’m lucky if I can afford cheap nail polish from the dollar store. I look up to take one more look at him before I go back to my own bed, but when I do, Aiden’s blue eyes are staring back at me. Without a word, he pulls the sheet back as an invitation to join him. I don’t hesitate. In my head, I see myself hop, skipping, and jumping, all the way there. But in reality, it was only a few steps. I slip into his bed and he pulls me into his warm body. He covers me with the sheet, and then he wraps his arm around my waist. This time when I fall asleep, it isn’t with tears of sadness, but tears of joy. I can live in denial of who I really am for the moment. I also realize that the, ‘ I can dream, can’t I’ moments, are becoming something I can no longer control.
The next morning, I’m woken up by the lightest touch of Aiden’s finger on my skin as he pulls the hair out of my face. He’s sitting on the bed next to me. He smells amazing and he’s clean shaven, wearing an expensive suit and a killer smile. Waking up in the morning to a sight like this should be illegal. Like, seriously someone needs to take me to jail, save me from myself, because I’m not a strong woman.
“What time
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