Even though I spend the whole drive to Aiden’s house running through a mental checklist of all the possible things I could say to him, when I walk up to his front door and ring the bell with a determination I didn’t know I had, my mind suddenly blanks. Of everything. Why am I even here again? Maybe I should just leave before I make things worse.
No.
Deal with it, Amelia. Aiden is practically the best thing in your life right now and you are not going to let your stupidity ruin it. But what could I even say to him?
I stopped kissing you because I’m not really Amelia Collins, and I’ve been lying to you and everyone else since day one. Oh, and I’m going to relocate to a different state in less than a month and never have any contact with you again. So, like, friends?
Yeah, let’s not do that.
Before I can gather my thoughts, Aiden’s sturdy oak door opens. My breath catches, my body’s automatic response to Aiden, but it quickly realizes something’s off. I look down from where Aiden’s head should have been and see the face of a curious nine-year-old boy staring up at me.
Caught off guard, I stutter, “Um . . . hi.”
The blond-haired, blue-eyed boy tilts his head to the side, analyzing me. “You’re pretty.”
My mouth opens in a surprised smile, taken aback by his unfiltered, blunt words. “Oh, thank you!”
I can’t tell if it’s Jason or Jackson since they’re identical, and I’ve never met either of them before, but I can tell I already love them.
“Are you friends with Aiden? You’re way too pretty to be his friend. You’re definitely a new babysitter! Will you let me eat cake before dinner? Aiden never lets me eat cake before dinner, it’s so annoying,” Jason or Jackson muses.
This is why I love kids. They speak their minds and don’t worry about anything. This kid just called me pretty twice within the first three seconds of meeting me, and is now sharing his opinion about the age-old debate about dessert before dinner.
“Well, actually—”
The door’s pulled open wider, and I’m suddenly seeing double. “Jason! Aiden told us we’re not allowed to open the door when he’s in the shower!” Jackson scolds his twin.
Jason scoffs at his brother and says in a hushed tone, “There’s a pretty girl standing at our front door. What idiot wouldn’t open the door?”
I’m trying my best to contain my laughter. Clearly being a ladies man runs in the Parkers’ DNA. Jackson looks at me for the first time, his face turning red in the most adorable way.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson says, “but you’ll have to come back another time when our brother is around.”
“Why can’t she just wait inside?” Jason asks his brother.
“Because,” Jackson emphasizes in a low, annoyed tone to his brother, “Aiden said not to open the door! I’m pretty sure that means not letting strangers in our house either.”
I can tell Jason is about to start arguing with his more responsible brother, and I don’t want to start any more trouble.
“Listen, guys, it’s okay, I’ll just come back—”
“Didn’t I tell you not to open the door!”
There it is. The reason I’m here. The reason my pulse quickens and slows at the same time. The reason my lungs forget to work and my heart decides to work double time.
The boys look at each other with expressions that can best be described as “Oh shit,” when they hear their older brother’s booming voice. Come to think of it, I’m probably sharing the same expression, still having no idea what to say to him. Heavy footsteps quickly come to the door and Aiden comes into view, his tense face visibly relaxing when he notices it’s just me, before it morphs into an angry expression aimed at his brothers.
“You guys know the rules! This door stays locked if I’m not around!” he scolds, looking more tense than usual.
His hair is still wet and disheveled, and he’s clearly just stepped out of his shower. He looks like he realized the boys were talking to strangers, so he frantically threw pants on and ran downstairs, forgetting his shirt. My God. This boy is the perfect specimen of a physically fit man if I’ve ever seen one.
I force my eyes up from his perfect abs and chest, focusing instead on his face. At least now I know for sure that all that time he spends at the gym and eating clean is paying off. Maybe once we’re friends again he could train me. Maybe he could be topless while doing it too . . .
Focus, Amelia.
Not wanting to get either of the boys in trouble, I’m about to say something when Jackson beats me to it.
“I’m sorry. I heard the doorbell and was curious.”