Page 55 of Playing for Keeps

“No. No, you two stay. Enjoy dinner and spend time with Corey. I’m just going to go home and try to get some rest.”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, I gave my mom another big squeeze, wanting to cry again at how comforting her arms were wrapped around me. “I’m sure.”

Mom walked me out to the front of the restaurant, grabbing my coat for me out of the private room. She watched as the car drove me away, waving as if this was a long goodbye.

At home, I dropped my coat and purse on the floor and went straight to the freezer. I yanked the bottle of vodka out from under the boxes of frozen pizzas and grabbed a glass. Then I took my comforter off my bed, turned down the lights and switched on the TV, and curled up on the couch.

Hours passed, alcohol numbing my body as the sitcoms numbed my brain. I didn’t often drink hard liquor, and when I did, it was never much. But I needed it. Needed it to drown out my pain.

When a knock on the door sounded, I stumbled and nearly fell getting off the couch. I wobbled. Swayed. Shuffled toward the kitchen before a second knock reminded me of why I’d gotten up. I pulled open the door without bothering to check the peephole first.

“Damn, drowned rat.” Aaron’s eyebrow rose as he dragged his gaze down my body. He squeezed in between me and the door jamb, putting his hands on my shoulders as he kicked the door shut. “You gotta stop answering the door looking like this.”

Lifting up on my toes, I pressed a kiss to Aaron’s lips. For a moment he didn’t move. Just stood there like stone. When he did move, he kissed me back.

As if I were nothing more than a friend.

Unmoving lips pressed solid against mine.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, pushing me back gently, this little smile on his lips as he slid his hands down my arms and entwined his fingers with mine.

“No.” Somehow, amazingly, I’d kept the slur out of my voice. “I missed you.”

His eyes dipped down my face to my breasts. “I missed you, too.” Tugging at my hands, he pulled me into the dark room. “I see you’ve got our spot ready. You expecting me? You didn’t answer your phone.”

With a laugh, I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. You know me. Friday night and I’m living it up on my couch.”

“You know what you need?”

A love life? More alcohol? A new heart?

“What do I need?”

“A horror flick and some popcorn.”

A smile tipped my lips. It was our thing, Aaron and me. Watching a movie on my couch, chomping away at popcorn, spending time together instead of going out. As fuzzy as my brain was, I didn’t think I was up for anything else. “That sounds great.”

With a giant bowl of popcorn settled on the coffee table, Aaron and I curled up on the couch, some slasher movie playing on the TV as we ate. My boyfriend went back and forth between commenting on the movie and telling me about his work trip to Seattle. He drank more than one tumbler full of vodka, his own voice getting slurred.

On screen, a couple was making out, surely about to be interrupted by the chainsaw-wielding madman. My eyes wandered to where Aaron sat beside me, my mind to the feel of his shoulder leaning against mine as the woodsy scent of him burned in my nose.

“Do you like me?” The words tumbled from my mouth without conscious thought, but once they were out, I desperately wanted to know the answer.

Aaron whipped his head back, brow furrowed. “Uh, yeah. Duh.”

“Do you really like me? Like, more than just a friend?”

He blinked, then slowly sat up. “Why would you ask that? Of course, I do.”

Shrugging, I wrung my fingers together. “You’ve never tried to kiss me. Never tried to do more.”

“Jen.” Aaron ran his hand down his face. “Are you kidding me with this? You friend-zoned me from day one. Every time I get close, you’re nothing but a ball of tension. When I got here and you kissed me? You were stiff as a board. I didn’t think you wanted me like that.”

On screen, the chainsaw revved, the couple screaming as they tried to get away. Aaron’s hand covered mine, stopping the twisting and turning of my fingers.

“Do you want me like that?” His voice was quiet. Tentative. This hopefulness I recognized because it matched my own. I drew my eyes up to his and was surprised to see how dark they were when I expected a light and beachy blue.