His to Love (His #3)

Chapter 38

Me: That was an asshole move and you're truly a jackass. 

I sent Aaron the message yesterday. Today is Monday and I still haven't heard from him. 

I'm fuming. I'm in a bad mood for the whole day. I'm hanging and arranging the clothes with a fuming rage the whole day. I wonder what Aaron has to say for himself this time. If he has to say anything. 

One man already made a fool out of me the last time, I won't let another play me around the same way. Oh, no. I'm changing the game this time. 

I stop at the store for the groceries on my way home, buying myself some chocolate for the pity party I'm about to have. I don't let myself shed a tear. I'm not really happy, I'm just angry that I'm the one being the fool again. One would think that I'd learn the first time. But no, it had to happen again just to remind me I'm an idiot. 

I scoff, shaking my head to myself. 

When I climb up the stairs to my flat, still in my Men-are-fucking-bastards-and-I-hate-them mood, I spot Aaron. Right in front of my door, pacing back and forth, holding a bouquet of roses. My step falters, taking in his figure.

He looks way better than he did last night. His hair is ruffled in that kind of sexy way that makes you want to run your hands through it. He's wearing jeans and a black button-down. He looks delicious. Even when I'm mad at him, this man looks good enough to eat and I just can't lie to myself.

I'm attracted to him. In this moment, I'm only attracted to his looks, not his personality precisely. I'm still attracted to him and I can't help myself. 

"What are you doing here?" I shoot when Aaron just stops and looks at me. He says nothing, only stands with his legs spread apart, looking at me with a sombre look. I can also read regret in his eyes. 

I have to look away because the look he wears makes me even angrier. 

What is it with men, thinking that when they fuck up, some roses and a regretful expression will help? 

"I came to ... apologise," Aaron says with a tight voice.

I raise my eyebrows at him, not letting it go that easily. "For?" I prompt, faking the nonchalance. 

Aaron's mouth tightens. I'm not making this easier for him. He made a fool out of me and that's not something I ever want to feel again. I've been played once, I refuse to be played the second time. 

"For being an asshole to you. I don't know, Brooke, for not calling you or texting you?" 

I blink at him a few times. "So, you're not actually sure what you have to apologise for?" 

Aaron rakes his hand through his hair in frustration. "No, I know ... I know I was a jackass to you and you didn't deserve it and I'm sorry for that. Also for not, you know ... calling you or at least texting you after the incident with Rory." 

I nod and go up the stairs, unlocking the door. I feel Aaron hesitating and I know he's not sure of what's going on. 

I go to my flat and turn to him, leaning on the door. "Am I forgiven?" Aaron asks, looking and sounding so lost. He really doesn't know what's going on. Good. That makes two of us. 

"I don't know. I'll think about it."

Aaron scrunches his eyebrows. "Well, can I come in?" he asks, unsure of the answer he's going to get.

I raise my eyebrows. "What for?" 

Aaron rubs his thumb over his eyebrow. "To talk. Hell, I don't know, I just want to be with you," he admits in frustration, waving that bouquet of roses around.