“Okay,” I say, surprising Aiden and even myself a little. “One picture. Use my phone.”
“Are you sure?” Aiden asks, his eyebrows drawn in concern.
My eyes trace his features, from his intense gray eyes, down his straight nose, to his high cheekbones and his straight jaw, covered in neat stubble.
“Yes.” My memory can only do him so much justice.
I hand Charlotte my phone, and Aiden and I adjust our poses so that we’re side by side, his arm around my waist. She snaps a few, then looks over the phone at us. “Get closer!”
Aiden tugs me and I almost fall into him, and we both laugh. My smile is genuine when we pose again, pressed up against each other, my hand on his chest and his on the small of my back, holding me close.
“You guys are gonna be the best-looking people there,” Noah says from behind Charlotte as I take my phone back.
Aiden laughs, and it’s a freeing sound. “We’re already the best-looking people here, so we’re used to the feeling.”
It takes Noah a beat too long to get the joke. “Well, you—hey!”
Laughing along with everyone else, I quickly look through the pictures Charlotte took, the only ones of me on this phone. We look so carefree. So happy.
“Did it turn out all right?” Aiden asks, holding me hostage with his eyes, and I nod.
I’m glad I decided to do this, even though it’s going to hurt me, knowing I had this and gave it all up. It’s all worth it. All for this memory of Aiden, standing here, looking gorgeous, staring at me with a fire in his eyes like I’m the only person in the world—like he needs me as much as I need him. I promise myself I’ll delete them later—but for now, for tonight, I’m going to keep them.
“Try not to cause too much trouble tonight,” Julian tells us, leaning against the wall.
“And don’t worry about Aquafina, she can’t be as bad as Ryan,” Noah adds.
I turn to Noah. “Who?”
“You know, Aiden’s stepsister. Aquafina.”
Aiden doesn’t glance away from fixing his tie in the hallway mirror. “It’s Evianna.”
“Psh,” Noah waves it away. “Same thing, wrong bottled water company.”
“Noah!” Annalisa chides, smacking him in the arm. “That’s mean.”
“What? You’re gonna stand there and tel
l me that the name doesn’t sound like an expensive bottled water brand?”
“That’s not the point!”
“Okay, that’s our cue to leave,” Aiden tells me over the bickering, then looks at his brothers, who are playing video games in the living room. “Boys, don’t stay up too late.”
Neither of them glances up but they reply at the same time. “’Kay.”
“Ready?” Aiden holds out his arm to me.
Putting my phone back in my clutch, I take his arm and let him lead me out of the house, glancing back to say bye to everyone.
I’m in complete awe as Aiden joins the line of cars slowly moving up the large, mile-long driveway at Andrew’s house. The word house isn’t grand enough to describe the place Mayor Andrew Kessler calls home. Maybe manor or estate. It’s the kind of house that has an east or a west wing.
“Unbelievable,” Aiden mumbles, and I pull my gaze away from the window to look over at him.
“What?”
“When he left, we were basically living in poverty. He knew my mom died. He knew he had three sons out there. For all he knew, we were living on the streets. All the while he’s living in this fucking McMansion he got by marrying some fucking rich broad.”