Aidan's Obsession

16. Aidan

If only she knew the full extent. I spin the chair around so I'm not facing her. As much as I'd love to watch, that's more temptation than I can handle.

"People are going to wonder why you're following me around campus all of a sudden."

"No, they won't."

"A super tall, bearded, mountain of muscle man is definitely going to attract attention."

Her description makes me want to puff out my chest with pride. When I look in the mirror, I see a shadow of myself. It's one of many things that spurred my decision to give in to the Clara fiasco. I'm not cut out to be an every-man. For a while, though I'm not sure I could have admitted it, I might have thrown away my destiny for Emmerson. The last few weeks free from most of her influence has given me the clarity I needed.

Everything is too high a price.

Sure there's something between us, but it's never going to be what I need to fulfill my full potential. This, with her, is fleeting, and I have to stop pretending it can be anything other than that. Whatever connection has formed between us will be snipped once Clara and I are bonded, and that's the way it should be.

My heart contracts again at the thought, and I run my hands through my hair in frustration. The truth is, I don't know if my head and my heart are as perfectly aligned as I'd like them to be. I just have to have enough pretending in me to get my ass to the ceremony with Clara. That's where I need to be, even if it's not where I want to be.

"Okay," she says. "I'm ready."

I whirl the chair around and stand up to inch past her into the bathroom. She doesn't give me any extra space, and when I glance down at her, she's looking up at me with a hint of a smirk. It's tempting to say or do something that'll inch us closer in some way—physically or emotionally. Somehow I get into the bathroom without doing either, but when I stare at myself in the mirror, I know I'm not making it the four weeks without fucking something up. It's just a question of how big.

###

Emmerson's lecture is probably the most boring thing I've ever sat through, and that includes my father's yearly throne speech where he drones on and on about how great and special he is. It takes a particular kind of person to incite more boredom than that.

"Learn anything?" Emmerson asks as we head back to her apartment where she'll change into her state park uniform, and we'll negotiate getting her to work.

"Was I supposed to?" My senses twig an odd energy, and I scan the area, not sure what I'm feeling, but it's something.

"What do I tell Brody about you?" Emmerson asks, and I notice she's focused on someone coming toward us.

When I swing my attention along the sidewalk, Brody is weaving through other students to get to Emmerson, a broad, dopey smile on his face. A domesticated dog, eager to please.

"Nothing," I say. "Don't even mention me. He won't notice me." I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans and keep scanning the area.

"Babe!" Brody says.

"Babe?" I mutter. "You've got a fucking name."

"Be nice," Emmerson says out of the side of her mouth just before Brody is close enough to hear her.

Little does she know, I don't have to be nice. Brody can't see or hear me, so I can be as snide as I want. The only person who has to suffer through my comments is Emmerson, and maybe some of them will hit close enough to home that she'll finally break up with this guy. She likes the idea of him, but she doesn't want him in any way that matters. Letting him go is best for all of us.