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“Am I that much of a wimp?”

“Yeah,” Ster says mercilessly. “In this case, you are. The poor guy. Just imagine you take someone home, sleep with them and then the person bolts. And ghosts you afterwards. How would you feel?”

“Are you kidding me? I would feel horrible! It would completely shatter me and my non-existent confidence,” I admit. “I had it happen to me plenty of times.” I pause. “Oh, fuck it. I just did the same thing those assholes did to me.”

“If you want my opinion,” he says. “You are asking too much of the guy.”

“I just want him to trust me,” I admit.

“Trust is built. It’s not magically there,” Ster says. “You told me he seems to have issues with his brother. We don’t know what kind of issues these are. He is not obliged to open up to you immediately. You need to give it time. You know better than anyone else how much your own past can have a chokehold over you.”

“I didn’t tell him anything either,” I admit. “I am such a hypocrite.”

“You are scared,” Ster analyzes. “But normally notthatscared. It was your mom, wasn’t it? Her message…”

“Maybe,” I say quietly. Whenever my mom reaches out to me, it usually is a huge trigger. It was the same this time, too. Ster and Mateo know how to handle me when it happens, but Aden has no clue. I didn’t tell him anything, yet I expected him to open up to me, to soothe my anxiety. “How can I stop being scared?”

“You can’t,” Ster says. “That’s the worst part about anxiety. It’s always there, lurking in a corner and jumping at you when you have your guard down. The only thing you can do is take risks despite your anxiety being there. Roxana’s therapist gave her the advice to use these worst-case scenarios she is imagining, just like you do, and try to overwrite them with a positive image.”

“I could try,” I admit.

“This could be something good,” Ster says. “This thing with Aden. You deserve something good.”

“I really like him,” I hear myself say before I bury my face behind my hands. “Fuck, I like him.”

Instead of an answer, I hear Ster’s doorbell. And this time, I have nowhere to run to, although every inch of my body wants to just get away from here, too scared to face Aden and the possible rejection.

“Come in,” Ster calls out towards the door. “It’s unlocked.”

When Aden enters, he is his usual neat self. It looks like he just came from work, but even then, he doesn’t look tired. I watch him; how he slips out of his jacket, neatly puts it on the rack, and takes off his shoes. My God, he is so handsome. I feel something in my chest, a longing, so painful it takes my breath away.

“Thank you for allowing me to come over, Sterling,” he says, before walking straight towards me.

Like a complete nutcase I am rooted to my place on Ster’s chair, not able to say anything or to move. I must look like a deer caught in the headlights, because Aden’s stoic expression softens visibly. “You look like I am about to bite your head off.”

When he reaches out his hand to pat my head, it’s like a dam lets loose. I can only wrap my arms around his middle, burying my head in his stomach. I love him. The realization makes my chest ache, the same dull feeling I have been battling with the whole day. It’s a mix of longing and fear. My love for Aden hurts so much. It’s scary, yet I want so much more of it.

Aden’s longer fingers keep brushing through my hair. He doesn’t say anything, but I guess if he wanted to dump me, he wouldn’t be so gentle right now.

“Well, you obviously don’t need me right now,” Ster says. When I glance at him, he is already trotting back into his atelier. “Close the door when you leave. And invite me for dinner later. You owe me!”

sixteen

*NOEL*

We left Ster’s apartment half an hour ago to let him work on his newest painting, went to buy coffees and then to a small, empty playground. It’s an old one that’s been closed for a while because they are going to tear it down soon.

Somehow, that’s sad. It was not a pretty playground, but I have gotten used to it being here. Just another part of my life that gets turned over completely. I don’t do well when my sense of stability is shaken.

With our coffees, we sit down on two swings. For the most part, we only make small talk, but now Aden looks at me thoughtfully. “Tell me why you ran,” he says. “Is it because of Kayden’s call? Because I am not talking about my family? It’s difficult for me to open up. You must have realized during our first date.”

“I am the same,” I say quietly. “Sorry, I snapped. That was stupid.”

“What was the trigger?” When I stay quiet, Aden lets out a frustrated sigh. “Give me something to work with, Noel. Please.”

My fear of rejection is huge, but my fear of upsetting him and fucking this up so that he walks away is worse. “I received a message from my mother a couple of days ago. I guess I haven’t been myself ever since.”

“Your mother?” Aden asks carefully.