“The writers weren’t expecting my character to be anything more than a pretty face. They were actually going to kill him off in the first season. I was only under contract for sixteen episodes.”
He’s dropped a bomb on me, and I’m hot potatoing it. “What?!” I screech, thankful that I don’t have any food in my mouth to choke on. “Are you serious? They were going to kill Chrisander?” It’s as if we’re discussing an actual crime. The whole thing’s making my heart beat fast, and I’m angry enough that my hands have clenched tight into fists like I’m gonna fight someone.
Ayden nods, setting his fork and knife neatly on his plate, real proper etiquette type stuff that makes me self-conscious about my own table manners. “We weren’t supposed to make it out of the first season and then the fandom got involved once we aired about ten episodes, if I remember it right.”
“I love my fandom. See? Fangirls save lives…and jobs.” I clutch at my chest, my heart the exact size of the Leviathan, and I’m fangirling—hard.
Ayden grins and crosses his arms on the table, leaning in close. I can’t believe he’s in my home right now. Talk about dreams come true. He just can’t go into my bedroom—like, ever. I have too many posters of him, way too many posters, and a life-sized cut-out. They might just scare him off for good.
The silence isn’t awkward, but it’s charged with enough energy that I feel it crackling along my exposed shoulders and arms. I haven’t been with someone in a good long while, and there’s a part of me that wants to, of course—Ayden is beautiful and kind and thoughtful and sweet, but this all feels like a dream where making the wrong move will definitely end up with me tipping to consciousness.
What if we’re not compatible in bed together? That happens to couples, right? What if that happens to us?
“What’s going on in that head of yours, darling?”
Melting—I’m melting. That word. Ugh. “That word has special powers, and you can only use it for good.” I lean back in my chair, just giving me enough space to breathe some air that doesn’t smell like Ayden.
“I thought I was.” He tilts his head to the side, watching me with those eyes, his lips parted on words that remain unsaid.
“I’m afraid to be with you,” I blurt, having no one but myself to blame, not even the glass of wine I had a couple of swallows from. Here I am, laying it all out there, nervous, scared and worried, pushing back a little more and away from the table.
Ayden moves back out of my space, like he’s afraid of crowding me, leaning back against his own chair. He’s shaking his head, and I find myself already reaching over to touch him, to reassure him. “I came over because you told me you would make dinner for us. I didn’t want there to be any presumptions—”
I reach for his hand when he looks like he’s about to push back from the table and bolt out the door. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not scared of you, just nervous around you, if you haven’t noticed.”
Ayden looks like he stops breathing, going very still, his eyes intent on me, those eyes I fell in love with first, and now slowly creeping into love for the guy they belong to.
“The feeling’s mutual. I promise you that,” he says quietly, calmly, a statement of fact, but it sets me off.
“How can you be nervous around me? I’m not anybody famous or special. There’s nothing to be nervous about around me. I’m normal.”
Ayden actually pushes back from the table this time and comes to stand before me, taking my hand and pulling me out of the chair. I follow the gentle tug of my hand where he guides me to my own couch in the living room, the screen on the TV black and the music playing in the background falling on deaf ears.
When he seats me next to him and then practically pulls me on top of him so that I’m lying sprawled on his chest, his heartbeat beneath my ear—beating faster than normal, like I have made him nervous—his words rumble in his chest and make me relax. “God, Aria, you’re incredibly special to me, and I’ve been doing a no job of letting you know.”
Here it is. Here’s the actual precise moment where I fall head over heels in love with Ayden Stone—a real person, not a fictional character.
This totally wasn’t the fangirl problem I was expecting, this isn’t a fangirl problem at all.
Comments (0)
See all