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“I’m just curious.” Aaron looked off into his room, thinking. “I want to see what you’ve been working toward these past five years.”
Something urgent in me rebelled against the idea. “I—I’m not sure if I’m feeling up to it today,” I said, setting my cup down on the nightstand. “I’m—gross.”
“You can shower first,” Aaron said, and stood from the mattress.
I had no idea if he was offering me to shower here, in his bathroom—in the bathroomhe’sshowered in before—but I quickly began shaking my head. “I—I have to go home. I have to change, water my plants?—”
“I’ll pick you up from there, then.” He stretched a little, rolled his neck again, before starting off toward the bathroom. “It only takes me ten minutes to shower, so don’t dawdle with your freshening up for too long, hmm? What’s your apartment’s address?”
And that was how the door to Aaron’s hotel room clicked shut behind me a moment later, leaving me in the hallway. He’d given me his black slippers to wear to my trek down to the front desk, because I had no idea what room Paige dropped me, my bag, and my sneakers off in last night. I looked down at the black plush of the slides, and could still see a dark outline of where housekeeping had to use the carpet cleaner.
I thought of going downstairs and doing the walk of shame to whoever was at the front desk. Hopefully they just thought the vomit outside of Aaron Astor’s room was unrelated to the drunk girl they’d housed for the night. Hopefully Trisha’s shift already ended and she went home.
It was official, though: I sure did know how to embarrass myself.
CHAPTERTWENTY
The drive to 1442 Everview Road should’ve been a peaceful one, with the quiet roads and budding spring greenery, but today, there was nothing peaceful about the forty-five-minute drive. Despite Schubert’s “Impromptu”playing from the speakers of Aaron’s rental car, I wasn’t calm in the slightest.
“Your hopes aren’t up high, right?” I asked him.
Sunglasses shielded most of his expression from view, but I did spot the way his lips tugged. “No, they are not. Nor were they the five other times you asked me, my dear. But if it makes you feel better, you can ask me again.”
I traced my fingertips in my lap, fidgeting my feet every few moments. Going home and showering off the layer of gunk had helped a bit, though. My headache was still a faint pulse behind my eyes, and my body still ached, but I at least felt more human and less corpse-like.
But still wholly uncomfortable. I’d never been inside, but I had a vague idea what the interior looked like from near decade-old photos from the realtor’s website. And even those older photos weren’t that impressive.
I’d never shared this place with anyone. Heck, Caroline and Annalise didn’t even know about it. Grant knew, but only because it’d come out one night while we’d talked about our futures. He hadn’t seen the house, though. And now Aaron Astor, of all people, would get a firsthand tour.
Granted, there wasn’t anyone else I’d rather it be. But still. Terrifying.
I needed to get my mind off it. “Why did you go out with Caroline yesterday?” I didn’t quite nail the nonchalant tone I’d been hoping for. It came off too high-strung. “If Fiona finds out you took Caroline on a date, I don’t think she’ll be pleased.”
Aaron’s small tug at his mouth bloomed into a full smile now.
“What?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Shewillbe upset.”
“What makes you so sure it was a date with Caroline?”
Caroline wouldn’t have broken out the Gilfman dress she wore last night for just anyone. And the mauve lip?DefinitelyCaroline date makeup. “Was it?”
“You told me last night that she wanted to marry me.” Aaron tipped his head to glance at me. “But that she onlythinksshe does. Because I’m a chameleon.”
Ugh, Ihadcalled him that. “Can we just, like, strike last night from the record?”
“Nope.” Aaron absentmindedly thrummed his fingertips along the steering wheel in time with the composition. “Just to be clear, though, it wasn’t a date. Unless people take their mothers and their colleagues on dates in this modern era.”
Colleagues? “It was a meeting about the music hall?”
Aaron nodded. “We met about the fundraiser. With less than a week left, Rhythms of Hope just wants to make sure the ducks are in a row.”
“Did Mrs. Holland try to convince them to sell again?”
“It did come up, yes.”
“What did they—oh, you’re going to turn left here. Sorry. It snuck up on me.”
Aaron flipped on his blinker. “My navigation system was just buffering, that’s all.”