Page 25

“You’re right.” I stare at the ceiling, remembering. “I asked him why he bothered to put on a shirt at all since the one he wore had so many holes.”

Aiden’s eyes remain locked and piercing through me. “Truth is, you made an impression on me.”

I’m not sure what he means, but my nerves are firing and my torso goes hot. Grabbing another mug, I pour the coffee and mentally sour at the thought of drinking it without a packet of sugar.

At least it’s fresh and strong.

“I must have, if you’re bringing it up now,” I reply as I lean against the counter, blowing on the mug. “I’m sorry. You’re not the type of guy a girl forgets.”

The practiced flirt comes easily and a part of me means it.

Aiden realizes it, too. “Good to know.”

Another yawn pulls at my mouth and I bury it in my coffee. This habit of poor sleep is catching up.

Aiden’s attention tracks me as I set down the mug and reach overhead, stretching my body and hoping it will do some wonders to wake me up.

I’m used to men watching.

But they’re never around in person to stare.

I cast my gaze at him and force myself to hold it, admiring the bulging muscles of his arms crossed over his chest and the set of his pursed lips as he sips his coffee.

Oh, boy. There is something predatory and hot turning his eyes from sky blue to liquid sapphire. Another good looking dude, and I expect nothing less from him.

I jerk a thumb toward the fridge. “You guys are horrible at grocery shopping. What do you eat?”

“We eat a lot of things.” He takes a step toward me, the movement sudden, and I go on high alert. He’s almost close enough to touch. “Maybe you caught us between meals.”

“I just don’t know how you keep such a cut figure if you exist only on beer and coffee.”

My legs thrum, sending the tremor up between my thighs. Stress, I assure myself. It’s stress and hunger and appreciation for a good-looking man.

“Trust me, your stepbrother can eat like an elephant,” Aiden mutters. “We just got here yesterday, so we definitely need to go shopping.”

I watch how his jaw flexes when he talks, and my stomach warms. I’m not used to engaging with men in person. It’s a completely different thing from engaging remotely with men who can see me but I can’t see them.

In front of the camera, I’m not Gillian. I’m someone else. Someone who likes herself and feels powerful. Here with Aiden, despite the desire to talk to him, I’ve got no clue what to say, and it’s distracting as hell.

Shopping seems like a harmless topic. “I’ll go into town.Grab something to cook for us. It’s the least I can do to repay the hospitality.”

“You cook?”

I shrug. “I do my best. I’m not a chef by any means but I know how to take care of myself. I’ve learned the art of cooking for one.”

Aiden chuckles, the sound born up from his belly. “Then you’re going to have to quadruple your recipes in this house.”

“You’ll have to prove it to me because I definitely don’t believe you based on the state of the fridge. You don’t even have ketchup. What kind of men have no condiments?”

He grins wickedly. “I didn’t realize you were the condiment police. What do you like to eat, Gilli?”

Aiden plants his elbows on the counter, giving him the perfect angle to stare at my tits.

I don’t have to linger in the kitchen, I remind myself. Why don’t I leave?

“You guys just tell me what you like. I’ll pick up some things,” I reply hastily as heat drives up my neck.

Is it a good idea to put myself out in public? Someone might see me driving the car and mark my license plate… I give myself a mental slap.