Love Me Page 42


I want to say I'm not surprised; you're good at everything, but I say, “Does that mean you’re gonna cook for me tonight?”


He opens the fridge and looks inside. “You're prepared.”


“Yeah, I wasn't sure what you'd want to do, so I ordered in a bunch of food.”


He grabs an apple, takes a big bite out of it, and shuts the door. “Let's see everything else, then we’ll decide.”


“This was another big selling point,” I say, leading him out the door off the kitchen. “Outdoor space is hard to find, so this made up for the fact that it isn't on Park Avenue.”


“My sister told me about the hot tub. Love the outdoor space. Show me your room.”


My room.


My bed.


I lead him into the bedroom, where he lets go of my hand to check it out. First, he peeks in the bathroom. "So you've never taken a bath in here?"


“No, not yet.”


“We’ll add that to the list.”


“The list?”


“Yeah, of the things we’re going to do this weekend. This your closet?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts of him lying naked on my furry rug.


I nod as he opens the door. He steps in and then turns and grins at me. “This has to be your favorite room in the house.”


“Why do you think that?”


“It just feels different. Has a different vibe.”


“I had it decorated exactly like my closet at home.”


Aiden is listening but he's also poking through the closet. Looking at the shoes I bought last time I was here but didn’t take back to school. Some basics I ordered online just in case I ever have to leave everything at school and run. He glances at the book of Keats’ poetry that’s lying on the table next to my chaise, not knowing that the four-leaf clover he gave me is safely pressed inside.


“You don't have any pictures of your family,” he states.


“I haven't had the chance to add many personal touches yet.” I open a drawer and pull out a small silver frame. “This is me holding my little sister when she was born.”


He takes the frame out of my hand and studies it. “She's tiny and adorable. You look young.”


“It was three years ago. Thanks for encouraging me to go to her party. I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.”


He flashes me a beaming smile, hands me back the photo, then makes a beeline for the long burgundy dress I bought when we went shopping for Homecoming. “What's this for?”


“Oh, I don't know. I found it when we were shopping for court dresses. I'm saving it.”


“You do that, don't you?”


“Do what?”


“Buy clothes in the hopes that you'll have somewhere perfect to wear them. Like the dress you were saving for Paris.”


“Yeah, I guess I do.”


“You're hopeful. Optimistic. I like that about you. What about these?” He points to a shoebox as he pops off the lid. “Why are these in their box and not displayed on the shelves with the others?”


He pulls out the shoes I was wearing when Vincent tried to kidnap me. A lump forms in my throat and I can't reply.


"Oh. This one’s broken,” he says. “What happened?”


I’m trying to think up a lie when a note falls off the shoe.


Aiden picks it up and reads it aloud. “I thought you needed to be reunited with footwear that is the real you. -G. Who's G?”


“Garrett. My um, uncle. You met him at Homecoming.”


“Why does he think a broken shoe is the real you?”


Seeing Aiden holding my shoe makes me long for the white knight. For the prince who kills the dark man. The prince who saves me.


“I was kinda nervous when I came to Eastbrooke. You know, wondering if I'd fit in.”


“So he sent you broken shoes?”


Fuck. Why does Aiden have to ask so many questions? Dawson never thought twice about the shoes or my closet.


“They are my favorite shoes ever,” I answer honestly, as I take the shoe out of his hand and put it back in the box. “I wore them at my 17th birthday party. But then I got, um, drunk and fell and broke the heel and I just . . .”


I can't do it. I can’t stand here and lie to Aiden’s face.


Lying to him hurts me.


Literally, physically hurts me.


“Anyway, you haven't seen the upstairs yet. Come on.” I tear out of my closet, praying he will follow me and forget about the shoes.


He does.


We climb the stairs. Since it’s dark, the stars are glowing. And they are everywhere. I think the designer went a little overboard, but they’re amazing. I love them.


Aiden pulls me onto the chaise with him. “Look at that,” he says, pointing. “There's a moon over there in the corner.”


“I never told them to put up a moon.”


“It probably came in the packet. One came in mine.”


“Why didn't you put it up?”


“I figured it'd get lost in all the stars.” He leans me back and kisses me.


Another perfect kiss.


I run my hands through the back of his hair and kiss the side of his face.


He stops kissing me and pulls me up off the couch. “You need to go change.”


“Like into something more comfortable?” Oh, yippee-freaking-yay!


“No, like into that dress you were saving.”


“Why?”


“It's a surprise. Meet me in the kitchen in five minutes.”


“Ten. If I'm gonna wear that dress, I need to touch up my makeup.”


He nods in agreement and heads down the stairs.


I run in my bedroom, touch up my makeup, throw my hair back into a messy bun, slide on the dress, add some strappy heels, and head back out to the kitchen just in time to watch Aiden popping a bottle of champagne.


He hands me a flute and clinks my glass. “Here’s to not waiting for a rainy day.”


“You look nice,” I say, knowing it’s an understatement as I take in his black suit and black shirt. I've never seen him wearing all black. It makes him look a little dangerous. Especially with the naughty gleam in his eyes.


He grabs my hand, leads me to the door, and says, “Our car’s here.”


We go outside and get into a big black limo.


“Where are we going?”


He pulls me into his arms. “You’ll see.”


Soon, the car pulls up to the Empire State Building. I smile. “Are we going to the top?”


“We are.”


He pushes me into the corner of the elevator and gives me a kiss. A kiss that I can feel all the way to the tips of my Louboutin-encased toes. A kiss that has way more tongue than is appropriate for a crowded elevator.


“That's because you look beautiful,” he whispers in my ear.


I slide my hands inside his jacket, feeling like I just stole a cookie.


Aiden holds my hand tightly as the elevator dings and we file out.


I love how small my hand feels in his. And the possessiveness and control I feel in his firm grip.


He leads me to an empty spot at the railing, where he stands directly behind me, whispering in my ear and pointing out lights I should look at.


But I’m focused on our hands.


It's hard to feel where my hand ends and his begins.


They are interlaced. Entwined.


My ruffled dress is blowing in the wind and I feel like I belong on a movie set.


Aiden squeezes my hand. “I think the guy next to us is getting ready to propose. I’m gonna record it.”


He grabs his phone out of his pocket and presses record. He holds me tight, keeps his mouth next to my ear, and gives me a play-by-play in his deep, sexy voice.


His breath tickles my ear. “He's so nervous. Look how he keeps smoothing out his jacket. I bet the ring’s in his pocket there. Oh. Look. He's grabbing both of her hands.”


“Shhh. I want to hear what he says.”


“Lisa, my butterfly,” the man says in a strong, confident voice. He may have been nervous before, but the strength in his voice tells me that whatever else he’s about to say, he means. Deeply. “You’ve made the world as I used to know it uninhabitable. I’m not the same man you met a year ago today. You've turned my life upside down and turned this cynic into a lovesick fool. With you, the sun shines brighter, food tastes better, and I'll never be able to go back to my old world. I need you to marry me. Save me. Have my babies. Grow old with me.”


He takes her hand and gets down on one knee. Even though Aiden and I totally knew this was coming, she seems utterly shocked by it. Her eyes are big and teary and you can tell her heart has stopped beating. She’s holding her breath as he says, “Lisa Monterrey, will you marry me?”


Lisa cries instead of replies.


“Uh oh,” Aiden whispers. “Is she gonna say no?”


I shake my head, because it’s so obvious to me that she's going to say yes. She’s just overcome with emotion.


“Butterfly?” he says tentatively.


Lisa she throws her arms around him and sobs, “Yes. Yes. A million times, yes.”


“He forgot the ring,” Aiden whispers.


They kiss and then he pulls a ring box out of the jacket pocket he kept smoothing down earlier.


Inside is a glittering emerald-cut diamond. “It's beautiful,” she and I both whisper at the same time.


It’s a magical moment. I’ve seen people get engaged in the movies. But this is different. Their love feels so raw. So imperfectly perfect.


He slips it on her finger and they kiss.


I can't help it. I clap.


Lisa shows me the ring and hugs both Aiden and me.


“Congratulations,” I tell her.


Aiden says, “I could tell he was going to propose, so I recorded it for you. If you want it.”


“Really?” Lisa says, falling in love with Aiden in an instant. “Ohmigawd, I love you.” She lays a big kiss in his cheek. “I can't even remember what he said.”


“He said you are his world,” I whisper.


“That was amazing!” Aiden says as we’re getting back into the limo.


“I know! It was so romantic. Actually, that kiss in the elevator was pretty romantic too.”


He leans over and presses his lips into mine. Gentle at first, like always, then that slow buildup to when he slides his tongue in my mouth. How he likes to tease me with it. How I try to catch it so I can suck on it but how he always catches mine instead. How good it feels as his hands grip my bare shoulders. How I can’t believe we got dressed up just to go to the top of the Empire State Building.


“What’s next?” I ask.


He kisses me again in reply.


And then again and again.


“What do you want to do?”


I don’t answer, just stand up, stick my head out of the sunroof, and scream, “Whoooooooo!”


Aiden joins me immediately. He laughs and screams with me. Then he turns toward me and places both his hands on my waist. I stop moving and gaze into his eyes. It’s one of those moments where time feels like it stands still. The city is rushing by, the crowds are moving busily down the streets, the taxis are honking, but it feels like it’s just us.


It’s a beautiful, perfect moment.


“Let’s go dancing.”


“Dancing? Really?! That sounds fun! Where to?”


“I don’t really know any good clubs, do you?”


“Hmm. Let me make a quick call.”


I sit back in the limo and call Damian. “Hey, big favor. Do you think you could get me on the VIP list at Feel in New York City?”


“How many?”


“Just two.”


“Ooohhh.”


“Shut up.”


“I’ll have our manager call. He can get in anywhere. VIP. Two for Douglas.”


I cough. “Uh, Monroe.”


“Oh, shit. My bad. Monroe.”


“Excellent. Thank you.”


I pull Aiden back in the car with me. “Why don’t you tell the driver to take us to Feel?”


“Feel?”


“Yeah, it’s a new club. I haven’t been, but I’ve heard it’s crazy.”


He pulls me on top of him and slides his tongue up the side of my neck. “Crazy sounds good.”


I respond by running my hands inside his suit jacket, from his hips up his tight torso, and to the top of his chest. Then I wrap an arm around his neck and run my fingers through his hair.


He lets out a little growl. “My hands are going to be all over you in the club. Feeling every bit of you.”


“Why do you think I picked that club?” I reply with a smirk.


We pull up in the limo, are escorted past the long entrance line, and allowed direct access to the lush VIP area. Complete with deep purple couches and a bird’s-eye view of the dancing going on below. You can feel the beat of the music, but the area is insulated so you can talk.


Aiden checks his jacket.


“Do you have a T-shirt on under your dress shirt?”


He nods. “Yeah.”


I move close to him and slowly unbutton his shirt.


“That’s pretty forward of you,” he says, his grin blazing.


“You’ll be way too hot in it. I’m being thoughtful.”


“You think I’m hot, huh?”


“Actually, yes. And I want to see those arm muscles when you’re dancing.”


He hands his shirt to the coat check girl, who is also admiring Aiden in his t-shirt. I put my hands on top of his shoulders, then slowly slide them down his arms, feeling every curve of muscle. He puts his forehead against mine and says, “Boots, I hope you’re planning to do that all night.”

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