Page 24

Chapter 23

Aria

P eeking through the curtains lined along the side of the huge stage, I pale, seeing every chair filled, crowds of professionals waiting with notepads and pens, ready to take notes on everything I have to say.

"Okay, five minutes, and you're on, Aria," the stage director announces, fixing a microphone onto the front of my white shirt, tucking the small box into the back of my black pencil skirt. "If you need to take a break for water or a breather, just do it."

"Right," I reply, taking deep breaths. It's not like I'm not used to these, but this is the largest one I've done. I'm a confident woman, but right now, I feel like I'm going to pass out and bring up my breakfast on top of this dude's pair of shiny shoes.

Swirling water around my mouth, I make sure my throat is lubricated and ready to speak for an entire hour. I try to remember certain notes and accept that I'm going to screw it up, but I’m unable to think straight, my palms sweaty, heart beating heavily in my ears.

The lights start to dim, and the presenter walks onto the stage, thanking everyone for travelling here, giving an introduction about me–how I earned my qualifications, travelled to numerous hospitals around the world, in partnerships, and many facts that make me even more nervous not to screw this up.

Straightening, I concentrate on not tripping over my heels as I walkonto the stage, the applause from the crowd easing me somewhat as I give them a wave, shaking hands with the presenter before standing beside a large projector.

"Thank you everyone for coming today. As you already know, my name is Aria Miller, and I’m a clinical scientist working closely with multiple organizations to help research rare diseases.”

I watch them all, keeping eye contact as my heart starts to race. I turn to the screen, using the clicker to change the slide.

"Today, I'm here to talk to you all about a rare disorder called Ribose-five-phosphate isomerase deficiency, or RPI deficiency for short." Clicking the next screen, I continue to explain the disorder, how only four people in a twenty-seven-year period have been diagnosed, how it affects the body, and how it's diagnosed.

I show them my recent finding; it's currently the rarest genetic disease in the world.

"This autosomal recessive disorder has no treatment, nor does it have a prognosis because it's so rare."

I scan the crowd as they all jot down notes, some nodding, some chewing their pens, some on their phones paying no attention. Those are the ones I want to launch the clicker at and glare at them for wasting my time when someone else could be here in their place, actually learning something.

It goes on for another twenty minutes, my throat going dry.

"Does anyone have any questions at the moment?" I ask, several hands raising. I accept a few questions confidently and move on.

Before I can turn to continue, one more hand raises, and I need to focus my eyes to see all the way to the back.

The blood drains from my face as the clicker hits the floor.

No , I mouth, my lips parting more each passing second before I shake off my shock.

"Yes?" I ask the person to speak up, gulping down a large, painful lump as Tobias stands from his seat and straightens out his tie, dressed in a fitted, dark grey suit and white shirt.

I want to run off this stage and tell him to leave, but I also battle against my hormones, the mere sight of him igniting something deep within me, like I’m some sex crazed idiot.

"Am I correct in saying only children have been diagnosed with this disorder, Doctor?"

With my nails digging into my palm, I nod, struggling with my words. "That's...that's right. Only children and teenagers have been diagnosed with this...so far."

He takes his seat, a smirk on his face as I try to pull my eyes away from him, a fire building in me and I'm not sure if it's the good or the bad kind.

I lift the clicker from the floor, changing to the next screen, sweat now coating my forehead. "Um," I mumble, losing my position and words, my head scrambling.

Turning to the crowd, I try to regain some sort of composure, the crowd waiting for me to continue. I push my glasses up my nose, taking short breaths to make sure I appear calm, but inside, I'm spiralling.

"We're going to take our break now, and we will continue in..." I look down at my watch, plastering on my fakest smile when I lift my headagain. "Twenty minutes."

I hurry off the stage, my mind whirling as a large hand pulls my arm at the bottom of the steps, dragging me straight into an empty room. "What's wrong? You were doing so well."

Tobias's icy blue eyes are burning into me, his brows furrowing, and I fight back the urge to slap him for nearly messing up one of the most important presentations I've ever done.

I'm still trying to process Tobias standing in front of me. I stare down at his hand on my arm, his thumb stroking up and down over the white material of my shirt.

"Why are you here?" I snap at him, moving his hand off me and crossing my arms. "And how did you know where my presentation was?"

He shrugs, tilting his head at me as I scowl at him. He narrows his eyes, looking lost. "You left and blocked me. What was I supposed to do?”

“You need to go home, Tobias.”

He looks confused. “Why?”

“This,” I point between us, “isn’t a thing, remember? It was over when I left.”

"You're mad," he huffs, standing back and pushing his hands into his pockets. "I want you to... No, I need you to understand me. I can't do that when you’ve cut me out.”

If I wasn't seething with rage right now, I would hug him, tell him I missed his annoying face, kiss him until my lips feel raw. But I don't. Instead, I scowl at him until he gives me a reasonable explanation. He stands in front of me looking deflated, confused, and, if anything, hurt by my reaction.

"I missed you, Aria."

He steps forward so he's close to me once more, his cologne filling my nose, and I feel my anger starting to fade, especially when the corners of his lips curl, his dimples deep, hands gently touching my folded arms.

"I want a chance.”

Delicately, his knuckles tip up my chin so I look at him, hot bursts of breath hitting my face. I blow out my cheeks, sinking into his touch. “I don’t know how to do this with you. I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“We don’t need to be in one. We can continue our arrangement by visiting each other, fucking it out, then repeating the cycle," he replies, leaning down so his forehead rests on mine, my heart racing at an unhealthy pace. I’m trying to regulate my breathing so I don't show him he affects me in ways I wish he didn't, but I know I’m failing. "Say yes.”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

“You look beautiful, by the way." He looks at my dark hair, his right eye twitching as he curls a lock around his finger. “Suits you.”

I run my tongue over my lips to wet them, looking away from his intense gaze. "Thanks." I move as he tries to lean in further, dodging his kiss. He huffs, dropping his hands to his sides and stepping back. "I need to go back on. This is important to me."

Tobias follows behind me, splitting when I reach the stairway to the front stage, giving me a look over his shoulder, telling me I've got this.

He disappears back to his chair as I take the stage once more, my eyes occasionally falling on him when I lose my thoughts–his nodding and proud facial expressions give me the confidence to wing the rest, ending the presentation with the crowd standing and clapping as I walk off.

Once I'm no longer attached to wires, I throw cold water over my face in the bathroom, staring in the mirror, intently watching my tired-looking reflection gazing back at me.

I'm not even sure what to say to Tobias. Despite my inner self screaming her head off to take him home and make him screw me, I dry my face and hands and fix my hair, letting sheer curiosity get the best of me. I head outside to meet Tobias.

He’s standing at the front entrance with an umbrella for me.

I hate myself, and I hate my feelings, because I truly am happy to see him.

Tobias stares at me the entire drive back, looking away when I turn my head to him. He stays quiet, maybe thinking of a hundred ways to annoy me further, flipping the radio stations every two seconds, turning the dial on my volume to an even number.

I frown at him when he starts tapping his hand on the edge of the door, humming to the song.

He stays behind me in silence as I unlock my door, and I stand aside so he can walk in, pulling his suit jacket off and hanging it on my fancy, tree-shaped coat holder. He eyes my apartment, walking in front of me, and I watch him as he explores, running his fingers over nearly everything.

"You do look good with brown hair. Did you dye it because I said I liked the blonde?”

I look down. My exact reason for putting the hair dye on was because he liked my hair so much, and I thought it would help the emptiness inside me. Like maybe if he did reappear, he wouldn’t like me, and it would be easier to walk away.

Silence follows while he walks into my kitchen, reaching his hands out to me, wanting me to stand between his legs as he pulls himself up to sit on the counter. I shake my head, sitting up on the counter opposite him.

Frustrated, he groans, running a palm down his face. "Come on, Aria. I'm trying."

"Why did you come here? It's not like you drove an hour. You live thousands of miles away." I screw my face at him, trying to show how royally fucking pissed off I am. "Then you turn up at my presentation and think it would be okay to stand to show yourself? I don't know what you expect me to say to you. I really don't think we?—"

"That you missed me," he interrupts, making me narrow my eyes at him, crossing my legs at the knees. He disregards my glare, gripping the edge of the counter. "Or just tell me you aren't mad at me."

He slides off the counter, and my breath hitches, my heart picking up pace with each step he takes in my direction, his face relaxed, eyes hooded.

"I told you I missed you." He tilts his head to the side, only two strides away from me. "You blocked my number."

“For a reason. It was done," I throw back, holding my breath as he rests both hands on each side of me, leaning in slightly so I can clearly see the mixture of blues dancing in his eyes, his flawless skin, the full lips that make me want to?—

“It’s not done, not for me.”

"You can’t be serious?"

“Why tell me you liked me then? If you were going to throw me away so easily?”

“Wasn’t it just sex for you?” I ask, absentmindedly resting my hands over the top of his, our touch electrifying. “I do like you, but you’re pushing a boundary I’ve put in place.”

He settles between my parted legs despite my words, and the annoying excitement starts to crawl up my inner thighs, and I revel in the feeling of him so close to me once again. “I’m changing. For you, I really am.”

Sighing, I run my hands up his muscular arms, lacing my fingers at the nape of his neck.

“Give me a shot,” he pleads, lowering his forehead to mine and pulling my body into his. “I’ll be good for you.”

I ignore him again as he narrows his eyes at me, nudging my nose with his, our lips inches apart. One slight movement, and the atmosphere will change. The room will rise in temperature, most likely ending with our clothesripped off and scattered along the floor.

"You want me to follow up on my promise if you ignore me again, am I right?" he asks with curiosity against my mouth, and I nod slowly. His teeth graze along my jaw and stop at my ear, whispering his next words so seductively teasing, I have to stifle a moan. "Do you want me to fuck your face, Doctor?"

"Maybe something a little more..." I gasp as Tobias' fingers dig into my hips, pulling me to him harder, cock straining in his trousers. "...a little more mutual," I breathe, letting out a whimper and swallowing hard as he leaves wet kisses down the side of my throat, groaning against my heated skin when my fingers trail up, grabbing and tugging a handful of his brown strands while the other hand palms him, cock already hard enough to take me right here.

I'm in complete and utter denial, half of me wanting him to screw me senseless. The other half doesn't have a clue what is going on.

I just can't seem to get enough of him. Every single fibre of my being needs and wants him...intimately and emotionally. It feels like time should stand still when we have moments like this, staring into each other's eyes with intensity, but it passes too fast, making me wish I could be stuck in limbo with him forever.

A knock at the door has me pulling away from Tobias in a panic, completely forgetting the time and who is coming. He snaps his head in the direction of Ewan's voice, shouting that it's only him, the handle pulling down. I push him away from me, stepping out of the kitchen, and my face pales when Ewan's relaxed eyes connect with my horrified ones.

"I need to go get Jason in half an hour, so I'll be quick."

Ewan halts his words and stands still as Tobias walks out behind me, both hands on my tense shoulders. I fully expect a war, or for me to be placed between them both and demanded to choose, but when Tobias introduces himself as my boyfriend, Ewan’s eyes flash to me.

“Boyfriend?”

“Who are you?” Tobias asks, making my ex’s glare darken, bringing his eyes back to him.

“Her ex, Ewan.”

“Any reason why you’re in my girlfriend’s house?”

Ewan’s hands curl into fists, his teeth gritting, staring at me. “Yeah. Why am I in your house, Aria?”

I gulp. “I… The washer was broken, and I…”

Tobias decides to put his arm around my waist, smiling down at me as he kisses my cheek. I watch Ewan intently, the heartbreak he must feel right now killing my soul, making me want to tell Tobias to back off and apologize.

“I suggest you leave before I make you,” Tobias warns. “And don’t ever come into my girl’s house again.”

“Did you just threaten me?” Ewan sneers, stepping forward, making Tobias let go of me.

I’m between them instantly, shoving them both in the chest. “Stop! Just stop!”

“You have no reason to be here,” Tobias spits. “Fuck off.”

“Just go, Ewan,” I say quietly, pleading with him with my eyes.

I feel the atmosphere getting more tense in the room, and silently, the two of them stare it out until Ewan looks between us and clears his throat.

The greens of his eyes, devastatingly full of emotions, watch me for a long second, before he shakes his head. He turns and leaves the house, causing me to release a deep breath and close my eyes, turning to Tobias and giving him a nervous smile.

"Do you see him often?"

I shrug, looking from the door to Tobias, pouting my lips as I chew the inside of my cheek. "Just when I'm seeing Jason." When Tobias stays silent, I add, “His son. We raised him together for years.”

"I don't see a kid around here," he states, looking around in exaggeration. "Do you?"

I roll my eyes, shaking my head as I turn and walk into my bedroom, Tobias following close behind. "He was coming to fix the washer for me, that's all."

Abruptly, he spins me around to face him, his expression serious. "I don't share."

"I'm not anyone's to share in the first place. Book a flight home and leave my house."

His hand snatches my wrist, and instead of turning to him, I close my eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh, ready to pull free of him and stomp into my bedroom.

His silence has me stopping in my tracks though. I turn to him, and he’s staring blankly at me. “Ari—” His voice cuts off, wild blinking taking over his soft expression.

I freeze my movements, watching him as his face goes completely vacant. "What's wrong?" I cup his cheeks, searching his face. He doesn't say a word as he drops to his knees in front of me. "Tobias?"

"I...I need to...to go," he stammers, his speech slurring as he attempts to get up, grabbing my arm for support.

He clambers off me messily, face paling, his jaw clenching. "Tobias, what's wrong?" I hurry after him. "Tobias?" Before he can make it to the bedroom door, he falls against the wall and collapses.

"Tobias!" I scream, my eyes wide, and I drop next to him, my heart shattering as his body begins to convulse.