Page 88 of His Choice

“Warmer?” he asked. I nodded.

Aaron dried himself off. As he did, his muscles flexed, his flaccid cock and balls jostled, and wet hair fell over his forehead. He was as beautiful as any man ever created.

Once he finished, he grabbed the other robe from the door and covered his magnificence. I might have sighed.

“My sling,” I reminded him.

Aaron shot me a look that signaled he had forgotten. He grabbed it from the vanity counter and helped get my arm back into its confines.

“No more accidents,” he chided.

“I’ll try,” I promised.

“Come on. Now you can get in that bed you’ve been eyeing.” He ruffled my hair, then helped me back into the bedroom.

I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to hoist myself up onto a high mattress with an arm in a sling, the other one in pain, and a twisted ankle.

Aaron surprised me again by picking me up, very much like James’ description of a groom with a bride.

“You don’t need…”

“Apparently, I do,” he countered, before laying me down on the bed. “Try to sleep on your back or your good arm.”

“Okay,” I replied.

He rounded the foot of the bed, then took the robe off and placed it on the chair. Aaron must have guessed my unasked question. “I’m not sleeping in a heavy robe.”

That was fine by me.

I watched his beautiful body in motion once again as he climbed up onto the mattress before pulling the sheet up to his chest. He reached over to the lamp on the nightstand near him and switched it off.

“If you need me during the night, let me know,” he whispered. “Don’t try to do something stupid by yourself.”

“Okay. I’ll only do something stupid with you,” I promised.

He chuckled. “Appreciate that.”

I thought we should talk about what happened, but I was too afraid to bring it up. I feared if he worried I was making a big deal about it, it would become the strange thing he assured me it wouldn’t be. Plus, I didn’t know how I could talk about it without disclosing the truth—that sharing something like that with him wasn’t just a stress relief. The friendship space I had placed him in had become blurred, and it reminded me all over again that if I could have more, I’d be the happiest person in the world. But I couldn’t, and it made me hope even more that Cliff chose me. If Cliff did, Aaron wouldn’t suggest more antics like those we’d just shared. It would allow me to reset things with Aaron, saving me angst and worse—a conversation that could end our relationship.

“Are you asleep?” he asked.

“No.”

“Are you nervous about tomorrow’s finale?” He was still facing away from me on his side as he spoke.

“Yes.”

“That Cliff won’t choose you?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” I admitted, because I didn’t know if I could go back to the apartment with Aaron and pretend things hadn’t changed for me…for us.

He was quiet for a couple of moments, and I wondered if he had fallen asleep. “I hope he chooses you, then.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cliff

I hadn’t slept well. Mikey. Brighton. Nobody. The three choices kept swirling in my head and none of them were ideal. In my heart, I knew Mikey was my second choice. If my suspicions were right and I was his, as well, how did that bode for our future together? Even though I imagined I would end up loving him because of his kindness and character, would the shadows of Brighton and Aaron linger? Brighton hadn’t suggested that he’d even consider moving to White Pines, which meant I’d need to give up everything if I chose him. Would I end up resenting him for it? Could I even be happy away from my friends? While I had joked often about wanting distance from my mother, that didn’t seem so amusing once it became more than a possibility. Despite my complaints, I loved her and knew she always had my back. Finally, the option of selecting nobody made the most sense, but it was disappointing and embarrassing. Cliff Walker—the guy so many believe has everything—can’t attract anyone willing to put him first.