No Kissing Allowed (No Kissing Allowed #1)(40)

Eric stood as soon as we were all seated. “Let us thank God,” he said, as he bowed his head. I peeked over at Aidan, expecting him to blanch at the idea of prayer. I’d never once heard him talk about religion. But he had already closed his eyes. “Lord, we thank you for the wonders you give us each day and the blessings that carry us. We thank you for our family, for our health, and for the gift of great friends, like Aidan. We hope to see more of him. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

I swallowed hard as I opened my eyes and peered at Eric, but he refused to meet my gaze. Aidan was the first guy I had brought home since Blaine. They knew how badly that breakup had hurt me, how hard it was to talk about Blaine for months after. I could only imagine what was going through their heads right now.

“Let’s eat.”

We took turns passing around dishes and piling our plates to the rims. It made me excited for Thanksgiving. I missed homemade food, how wonderful it smelled, and by the look on Aidan’s face, he was thinking the same.

“So, Aidan,” Mom said after a few minutes of silent eating. “How exactly did you and Cameron meet?”

Aidan took a drink of his water and wiped his mouth with his napkin before replying. “Well, as Cameron mentioned, we work together. Though we met before she started at Sanderson-Lowe.”

“What a nice coincidence.”

A smile stretched across my face at the memory, and Aidan grinned at me.

“What do you do at Sanderson-Lowe?” Mom pressed. “Are you an account manager, like Cammie?”

And here it was. The topic we had debated over and over on the plane. Should we admit that Aidan was my boss and deal with the looks now, or skate over it and act as though he were promoted or something later?

Aidan sat tall. “Actually, I’m the chief creative director.”

Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds rather important.”

He shrugged. “I think every position is important. We operate as a team. One missing piece and everything falls apart.”

Eric nodded, the businessman in him showing. “I like your philosophy. I used to tell my employees that every person on my staff needs to be prepared to sweep the floor if necessary.”

“Exactly,” Aidan said, and just like that, their conversation shifted from football to business, and I watched with pride as Eric listened to Aidan talk. I’d seen Aidan captivate a room plenty of times at the office. To see him do the same to Eric, someone I’d always respected, made my heart swell. When I glanced up, I found Mom’s eyes on me, tears threatening to rain.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I’m perfect.” She reached across for my hand and held it tight. “It’s just nice to see you so happy.”

After dinner, Mom made an effort of appearing wide-awake so we could have tea and chat, but I knew her too well to allow it. She’d been up since four preparing for Thanksgiving and would be up again tomorrow at four. She needed rest. Plus, I was eager to have Aidan alone.

Aidan disappeared into the guest room, shutting the door with a devilish grin. I went into my room, set my bag on my bed, and clicked on the lamp. Mom had replaced my bedding with a plaid and floral set, but outside of that singular switch, it hadn’t changed a bit. The white shelves across from my bed were still full of photos from high school, trophies from competition cheerleading and dance, old baseball cards that I’d collected with my dad. On the nightstand beside the bed sat a porcelain jewelry holder and a framed photo of me sitting in my dad’s lap. I was five or six and so scrawny you’d have thought they never fed me, but the smile on my face told the true story. I didn’t remember that day. Not where we were, or what we were doing, or even why I was smiling, but I knew that since his death, I never smiled that big.

Except when I was with Aidan.

My thoughts went to the weekend we’d spent at his apartment. Of dancing to “Sweet Home Alabama,” him spinning me all around, my body buzzing with such intense happiness that I hardly recognized the feeling. And now him here, in my world, everything feeling so perfect that I didn’t want us to leave, to return to the complications of our situation. To have the conversation I knew we needed to have.

Sitting down on my bed, already in fresh pajamas, I heard a soft knock on the door to the bathroom we shared. I walked over and opened it, expecting a joke about getting our naughty on, but the expression on his face made my smile disappear. “What’s wrong?”

He reached out to take my hand, gliding our fingers together, watching the way they fit. My small hands into his larger ones. “My father had a heart attack.”

“Oh my God. Do you need to fly out? Make a call? What can we do?”

He shook his head and started into my room, lying back on my bed without asking, and despite the situation, I thought of the first time I’d been in his apartment. How he’d noted my helping myself to the refrigerator. It was nice that he felt equally comfortable with me.

“Nothing,” he said finally. “His assistant left me a message. She said he’s all right, it’s just…”

“Aidan?” He peered over at me, his eyes full of anguish. “It’s okay to care about him.”

“He has never once in his life given a damn about me. Didn’t even bother to come to the hospital or funeral when Mom died. So why should I care about him?”