Page 42 of From Square One

Aaron laughs, and I’m getting sick of that sound, because it’s usually followed by crushing humiliation. “That’s perfectly reasonable,” he says, stooping down to kiss my nose. Then my left brow. My temple, cheekbone, jawline. By the time he makes it to my mouth, I’m groaning again.

“Doting on every inch of me isn’t something you’d do if there was no history,” I say irritably.

“Apologies.” Aaron presses a sweet kiss to my lips, still holding his weight off me, his arms propped around my head. I keep my eyes pinned shut as he pauses, then comes in for a second, nestling his mouth against mine, letting me get used to the feeling of lingering. His tongue nudges against the curve of my lower lip, and tingles spiral up my neck.

A third kiss. He’s easing my mouth open, his body shifting downward, inch by inch, until his chest is close enough to graze. I don’t notice my hands are moving until I feel the smoothness of his skin beneath them, and I realize I’m sliding them along his upper arms. I can feel the tautness of his muscles threaded through his limbs. I should’ve known he’d be stronger than I thought, considering the ease with which he carries me around. Not that I’m particularly heavy, but the lack of strain in his quest to get me from point A to point B is, admittedly, kind of attractive.

My fingers roll over his shoulders as he plants a fourth kiss on me, his tongue sneaking little jabs against my still one, since I’m too embarrassed to move it. As my knuckles brush the curves of his neck, a faint shiver courses through him. He reacted. Maybe I found a sensitive spot?

“Can I touch you?” Aaron breathes before I can experiment with it, the words fluttering against my upper lip.

I swallow, and say, “Behave.”

Laughter. Again. I should never speak out loud. “How could I deny you, sunshine?” he asks, and one of his palms slides under my head to cradle it, his fingertips digging gently into my scalp. The other sneaks down my waist to latch beneath the crook of my knee, and he pops it up, hugging it around his waist, my thigh leaning against his exposed skin. He’s already pressed firmly against me, but the added contact makes me feel like my head is spinning.

“Can I also touch you?” I blurt. “I shouldn’t have assumed…Sorry…”

Aaron smiles against my mouth, his thumb stroking the outer edge of my knee. “Do whatever you’d like,” he murmurs. “I want you to relearn the feeling of me.”

I peek through my eyelids, dazed. When our gazes meet, his fingers curl in around the back of my head, clinging more firmly to me.

“You said you can’t bridge the gap between your mind’s and body’s reactions to me,” he continues. “Familiarize yourself with me. My face and touch and weight. My voice. My lips. Over time, maybe your mind will feel just as safe and comfortable here as your body does.”

With little more than his words, and his hand cradling me like I’m the most precious thing in his life, the disconnect is already shrinking. Slowly, my other knee rises along his narrow waist, hugging it. I don’t have much strength, but I apply enough pressure to make him notice. A pink tinge flourishes through his cheeks.

“You seem to know how to…like, excite me,” I say, his blush causing my own face to warm. “I want to learn how to do that. To you.”

Aaron snickers, the brat, and pushes his hand up along my thigh, his fingers bunching the nylon of my swimsuit. “Excite away.”

“Making fun of me again,” I say.

“No, no. I would never.” He’s rubbing my thigh now, and it’s worse than when he was massaging my hips, so I give the back of his leg a good kick to stop him. He grins and obediently returns his wandering hand to my knee, holding it against him. “Then I’m going to kiss you senseless.”

He starts closing the distance between us. My mind works in overdrive, wondering what I should do. Does he have any other spots that might give me a reaction? Maybe I should run my hands over his shoulder blades, or rub his ear like he rubbed mine, or—

A door slams so violently downstairs that it shakes the house. Aaron flings himself off my bed, and I swing upright, short of breath as quick footsteps storm up the staircase.

Logan is walking in on us again. Only this time, the situation is far more damning.

“Where is he?” he growls, shoving through my cracked bedroom door with such force that the knob dents the sunset-orange drywall. His tan face is flushed with anger, and his schoolbag is hanging over his shoulder. “I saw his fucking truck outside again.”

His eyes tear across the room and find Aaron, who’s standing nearby in nothing but a fluffy towel that does—pardon me—absolutely fuck all to conceal what we were just doing. I immediately begin to word vomit as I hike my knees into my chest.

“It’s not what you…We weren’t…I was just trying to…”

The attempt to excuse my actions doesn’t last. The moment Aaron sees Logan, he’s flying across the room, his eyes searing with icy, vengeful flames. “You piece of shit!” Aaron snarls, seizing my brother by the neck so he can spit words in his face. “He said he called you! There’s no way you couldn’t hear the pain in his voice! You knew he needed help, and you ignored it!”

Logan gags under Aaron’s grip. “The hell are you talking about?” he gasps out, grabbing Aaron’s wrist, the veins popping in his arms. He manages to loosen Aaron’s choke hold and shove him away.

“Riley fainted!” Aaron yells, his face gnarled with such visceral anger that the blood drains out of my body. “He needed help! He was lying on the fucking ground when I showed up, because you couldn’t be assed to be there!”

Logan’s face pales.

“Wait,” I choke out, scrambling off the bed. “Stop, it’s not Logan’s fault—”

“You think I would’ve stayed out if I’d known?” Logan breathes. His attention snaps to me, and frustration mingles with his fury. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I squeeze my fingers tight to keep them from shivering. “You…you were studying, so…”