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“I know it’s got to be late. Rina can take me back to my car when I need to leave. There’s no reason for you to have to stick around here. You’ve gone way beyond the call of duty here already,” I said, and I gave him a shy smile, managing to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. Thank you, Aaron. I mean it. I would’ve been lost without you.”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit for driving to the hospital and sitting in a chair.”
“Oh, that’s all you did? Never mind. You’re totally in the way. Useless really,” I said sarcastically. “I mean, it’s not like you kept me from crumpling to the floor when I got the call, or took down the information on where my dad was so you could then drive me here and make sure I got the information I needed about him, and got me coffee and held me while I slept...”
“Fine, I'm a prince among men. It just seemed tacky to admit it. Now that you mention it, though it’s obvious.”
“Exactly. I don’t know anyone else who would’ve dropped everything to help me and stay by my side. I’m also pretty sure I had your hand in a death grip the whole time,” I said a little tightly. I remembered clutching his hand in both of mine like I wasn’t about to let him go. That had to have been uncomfortable for him, like his crazy intern had finally gone around the bend and tried to take his right hand with her.
“My hand is at your service, both of them in fact,” he said, and I must have still been disoriented from sleeping because my skin tingled and burned at the innuendo, the suggestion that both his hands would service me...that was an interesting thought that I'd have to consider more carefully when I had a chance to think of such things.
“Like I said, you’ve been too kind. I don’t see how I can ever repay you. But Rina can take it from here. I’m sure you have a full day tomorrow and I’ve kept you out so late.”
“It’s closer to early than late at this point,” he said affably. I could see him hesitate to leave, as if part of him wanted to stay right where he was. “Let me know if you need anything, and how you are.”
“I will. Thank you.” I said, feeling diffident and formal, standing up, wondering if I should try to shake his hand or something. It was too strange. Instead, I took his hand. “I just wanted to tell you how much it means to me that you were here, that you stayed with me. You held me up during the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I won’t forget that. Ever. I’m—”
“If you say, ‘in my debt,’ I’ll have to try and remember the bit in Rumpelstiltskin where the evil little gnome demands her firstborn.” He said it so lightly, and I laughed. I had thought a few hours ago that I’d never laugh or smile again, but Aaron could make me laugh in a hospital waiting room.
“All right. I’m not sure you haven't been talking to my dad in secret though from the sound of it. I always tell him, let me finish my degree, get a job first, then I’ll find someone nice and give my dad some grandkids.”
“You better start soon since the firstborn is mine now,” he teased. Something hit me differently in the way he said it, not like he was joking about a fairy tale but like somewhere deep down I liked the sound of it. Shaken, I just blinked really stupidly a few times and mumbled something about being very tired and him driving safely.
He left and I sank back down onto the couch, still warm from where we’d sat for so long. I felt lonely and wished he’d come back, which was so selfish it didn’t bear thinking of. I shut my eyes and tried to convince myself to go back to sleep. It occurred to me that I should plug my phone in, and I looked around for my purse to grab my charger. My purse. I didn’t have it!
I bolted up and went down to the main entrance, hoping I could catch Aaron before he left with my purse in his truck. I didn’t want him to have to turn around and come back after such a long night. The elevator opened and I dashed out the front door, breathing hard, realizing that I had very little chance of catching him by running after him. I stepped out onto the pavement, the warmer, softer outside air seeming to wrap me up as I started forward again and collided with something solid. I felt myself knocked back, but a hand steadied me.
“Leanne,” he said, and I looked up, met Aaron’s eyes.
“I couldn’t let you leave. I just chased you down,” I tried to joke but I was so breathless from running and from his nearness.
“I almost knocked you down, bringing your purse.” I nodded and lifted on tiptoe as he slid his arm around my waist and dipped his head.
This time, he did kiss me. Soft, quick, a light brush of warmth, his lips on mine. We clung together for a moment, and then he lifted his head, met my eyes with such intensity that it rocked me, and I was glad he held me up. I smiled; I couldn’t help it.
“Good night,” he said, releasing me, handing me the purse and turning back to the parking lot. I stood there a moment, pressing my fingers to my lips where he had kissed me. Such a swift, tender kiss, more full of promise than passion. It had been so good, though. I had felt the intimacy of it, the decisive way he’d claimed me, locking lips with me outside a hospital for two or three heartbeats and leaving me changed completely.
If I walked back to the waiting room instead of floating, it was through no virtue of my own. Because I was walking on air, a befuddled, happy creature who went over and over those few seconds out on the sidewalk for half the night, loving it more every time I remembered it.
CHAPTER18
AARON
Igave Leanne a few days off from the internship to take care of her dad and get him settled into a routine with his rehab and stuff. It didn’t matter how that was only basic decency on my part—it felt like a sacrifice, so huge it hurt. Because every day I rolled into work at the gym and didn’t see her. Every night I closed, she wasn’t there needing an escort to the parking lot or wanting to tell me about something funny from the Zumba class she taught or how a client did their first push-up earlier and she was so proud of them. Some story about her crazy friend Rina with all the bad dates, or a sharp observation about the way exercise culture has played into some really toxic stereotypes that we have to shed. I wanted to talk to her and listen to her, follow the rise and fall of her voice as she told some hilarious story or ranted about an inequity that pissed her off. I was starving for the sight of her face.
She’d messaged me a few times, to say they were still in the hospital, that her dad was weak but doing as well as could be expected. That she’d submitted her assignment for my class early because she was afraid she’d be preoccupied with her father’s needs and forget about the paper she had to write. As if I would have reproached her for it in such a situation, but now wasn’t the time to defend my compassionate professional practices. Not when at least eighty percent of my waking thoughts were just a replay of that kiss on a nonstop loop.
She’d run out of the hospital, paused on the pavement to catch her breath and look for me. I’d stopped to look at her and she headed out heedless of looking both ways and slammed into my chest. The impact rocked her back and I caught her, my hand shooting out to grab her and steady her by instinct. Then she stood on tiptoe, bringing her face closer to mine and I had answered that unspoken question with a yes. Yes, I would kiss her good night, good morning, anytime I could. Yes, I wanted to feel if her full lips were as soft as they looked—they were softer, more pliant, clinging to mine. I lifted my face, wanting more, not willing to press her at such a vulnerable time as the aftermath of her father’s heart attack. Still, that kiss, that brief, decisive press of my lips on hers, had told her what I needed her to know.
Yes, I want you.
Yes, I know it’s nothing but trouble.
Yes, I want you anyway.
So, when I got to the bar to see the guys, I was running later than I’d planned. Because I almost canceled on them. I was so close to going over to see my sister or just staying at the gym and keeping my phone on in case she called. In case she texted or anything. I knew I needed to get out of my head for a while, especially the way I’d been in the grip of this memory, this one kiss that held me captive. I headed out and went to the bar. There were already pitchers on the table, some appetizer platters strewn around.
I slid into a chair and took a couple of wings, scooped up the creamy artichoke dip and poured myself a drink. They were talking about kids. I sat there, half listening, wondering how weird I’d make it if I mentioned that my intern now owed me her firstborn child. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’d said at drinks with the used-to-be-Bachelors Club. But it would definitely put a damper on the festivities.
