Page 106 of Pretender

“It’s a world of wonder, of course,” Sophie says from behind us. “It’s basically everything Viktor Wynd saw that fascinated him, or that he found beautiful, without conforming to an elitist view of the definition of beauty.”

“A jar of used condoms?” Aiden asks, peering into one of the display cabinets.

“I sense judgement.” Jamie narrows her eyes at him.

Aiden holds up his hands. “No judgement. Observation. Curiosity, if you will.” He chuckles.

“We used to come here often when we were at university,” Sophie says after a moment. “It was a fantastic inspiration for seeing art outside the frames of what classic museums tell you art is.”

“Hm.” Aiden’s little grunt makes me stifle a laugh.

We stroll through the narrow space, taking our time to explore all the quirks and wonderful details.

“There’s a mummified penis here,” I say, pointing at the black, long shape in the back of one of the display windows.

Aiden laughs, but peers down at something else that’s caught his eye. “Now, this thing here is quite something,” he says, crouching for a closer look. I squat next to Aiden to see properly.

It’s a stuffed mouse in a little room fashioned from a box. Small silver baubles, pink flowers, and green leaves hang from his tiny ceiling. The back wall is covered in rows of blue sequin ribbons and a shiny paisley fabric.

“Mousey’s got his own maximalist living room,” I say. “Great style.”

“Indeed.”

I stand back up, and Aiden follows.

“Do you have that with your design—what Jamie was saying? That your vision clashed with a more typical style?” Aiden asks, gesturing to the mouse.

“I suppose. But now that’s my thing. I live to push the limits of expectations.” I allow my smile to escape. This topic makes me fizz. “Like with your Grafton Street nightclub. If you’d asked me at uni if we could have zebra, leopard, abstract, tiger, and floral upholstery all in one small room, I’d tell you to get the fuck out. But it’s going to be fabulous,” I say, waving my arms. “It’s fantastic. I’m doing what I dreamed of.”

“What’s your dream for the future, Linnea?” he asks, stepping closer to me. “What do you want the most from life?”

I lean against him, burrowing my face into his chest to breathe him in. I tilt my head up, and my nose meets the warm skin of his neck.

“When?” I whisper.

Right now I dream of you on top of me in my bed.

“Next year? Five years from now? Down the line?”

“I want to keep LEAF Design.” I speak with my cheek pressed to his shirt, and I wrap my arms around his broad torso. “Maybe I’ll make a name for myself. Do some jobs around Europe. There’s this boutique hotel in Portugal I read about, and the images of how I transform it came to me instantly. I could make it magical.”

Aiden’s hand comes up to the side of my face, fingers threading through my hair.

“Could I fit into your future?” he asks, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

“Do you want to?” I push back to see his face.

“Very much.” He nods and dips down, eyes on my mouth.

My heart thunders in my chest at the thought. Fuck, that’s a big statement. But it’s the right one. We’re too old to play games. He wants to be part of my future.

But what does his look like? He still has so much to tell me.

“What are your plans? How do I fit in?”

“Linnea, I can do whatever from anywhere. I’ll come to Portugal with you.”

For a moment all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears. Did he really say that?