Lizzie
October 2020
September flew by. Honestly, with all the classes and afternoons spent with Nate, Cam and Davina, and even Caleb (when he wasn't with a girl), the entire month went by before I could realize it.
After that day with Aaron, where he told me about Nate not being at practice, I decided to confront him and ask him where he was. Nate told me he wasn't at practice, but he was helping Coach Andrews with the freshman students who wanted to join the school team. He'd been brief in the text because it was easier to explain since he was also late and didn't have time to give me a full explanation.
So, now, we've been dating for a whole month. Technically a little more, but it wasn't official as soon as we kissed, was it?
To celebrate this small yet important milestone I've decided to do something with Nate, especially since both Aaron and Grace are going to be out today.
When I proposed the idea to Nate he was super excited and even offered to have dinner together. Obviously, I accepted. So here I am, standing in the kitchen, ready to cook something for us while he's at school with Coach Andrews to select the new members.
I'm going to be honest, though. I'm not an amazing cook. I'm even worse when I don't have a recipe to follow. That's where Rose comes in handy. God bless Italy.
"First thing you want to do is cook the maccheroni." Mind you, American macaroni is not the same thing as maccheroni. I once made the mistake of saying that and almost got beat up with a rolling pin.
I fill up a pot and set it on the stove, waiting for the water to boil. When it's done, I throw in the pasta and stir it. "All right, it's cooking."
"Good. You can get the sauce started, then. Follow my instructions, stellina. Don't set it on fire like you did last time, okay?" Rose's voice is sweet, but there's a hint of worry in it.
I chuckle, holding my phone between my ear and my shoulder. "I promise I'll be careful, Rose. Talk me through it."
She does. As always, my nanny proves herself the best teacher out there. I stir the sauce and the pasta, tasting them both when she tells me to.
As I'm adding a pinch of salt to the tomato sauce, I realize someone's coming inside the kitchen. I turn my head, finding Aaron with an Airpod in one ear, his phone in his hand, and workout clothes on. Damn, that white shirt looks good on him.
He notices me and says a brief, "Hi." I say it back, but notice he's walking in my direction. He puts his phone on the counter and keeps coming towards me, although looking in front of him. "Sorry," he says.
And next thing I know, his hands are on my hips, and his front is brushing against my back as he passes through the small space between me and the table behind us.
It's only for a second, then he's already taking a glass and filling it up with water, not even realizing what he did. Yet, for that brief moment, I swear I felt every part of my body melt into lava. Even though only his hands were touching me, I swear I felt him everywhere.
Rose is still speaking on the phone, but I think I'm brain-dead. And when Aaron steps closer to me to look into the pans and pots, I realize I'm about to be dead dead.
His arm touches my shoulder, I can breathe his scent, I can feel his presence like he was the air in the room. "What're you cooking?" he asks me.
It takes me several moments to realize he's talking to me. "Oh, uh... An Italian dish. It's for, uh, Nate and I tonight. Since you're out with your date and Grace is with hers, you know," I answer him.
Aaron turns around and leans against the counter with his back, crossing his arms. I glance up at him, the setting sun tracing the outline of his body, stabbing his eyes and turning them the deepest and richest shade of green, drawing lighter colors in some strands of his brown hair. Every curve of his body turns him into a statue engraved in marble.
At that moment I come to. Aaron Kingsford — annoying, proud, and cold Aaron Kingsford — is the most beautiful human being I have ever seen. And the most haunted. By what, I'm yet to find out.
A short laugh leaves his sinuous lips. "You mean the date you set me on."
All right, I can explain. Let's take a step back to a couple of days ago, shall we?
-Two days ago.-
I'm by the pool with Davina and Cameron when the blonde sits up and lowers her sunglasses.
She looks straight in front of her, and I swear I can see literal hunger in her eyes. "It's so unfair," she says.
Davina sighs. "What is?"
"The fact that that body," she points towards the garbage cans, "isn't inside this body," she points at her. We look at whose body she's referring to. Unexpectedly, it's Aaron's.
I cringe. "Ew, Cam. Seriously."
"Fucking hell, that's gross, Barbie," Davina agrees. "He's not even that attractive."
"Well..." both Cam and I say. Aaron is way more than attractive, come on. Sometimes I find myself wondering whether he's real or if he's actually one of the fictional men I read about in my books.
"Whatever. Point is, I find him attractive. And I really wanna sleep with him," Cameron goes on, starting at the guy who's only throwing out the trash like a normal human being. Okay, the fact that he's not wearing a shirt might result in slightly distracting. Slightly.
I frown at her, pursing my lips. "Didn't you already have your ride?" I ask her, causing Davina to bite back a little laugh.
"We didn't have sex. But I've heard rumors... And, boy, were they positive. Some girls say he has the biggest d—" Davina throws her in the pool before she can finish her sentence. "Seriously, D!?"
We laugh at her, but two eyes get stuck on me— us, I meant to say us. I meet his burning stare, which travels from head to toe. He licks his lips and curves them into a smirk. I flip him off, but apparently, he finds that amusing.
Turning my attention back to my friends, I find the blonde sitting on the end of Davina's chair, using her towel to dry herself. "Hey, Liz, can't you like... Set me up on a date with him or something?" she asks me, looking down embarrassed.
I groan. "Please tell me you're not serious." Her giggle is answer enough. I sigh, shaking my head. "I'll try my best..."
I get up from my chair and take my linen white robe, putting it on without closing it in the front. I walk slowly, asking myself why the hell I'm doing this. The things you do for friendship...
Aaron is about to go back inside the house when he sees me. He stops, arching a brow. "Yeah?" His eyes move from my face to my body very quickly, almost imperceptibly.
"I need a favor," I start, folding my arms. "You know Cameron, right?" He nods, not even looking at my friend. "Can you, like, go on a date with her?" That sounds even crazier than I expected.
Aaron stares at me for the longest time. I even think that he's half-dead or something. Then, he harshly says, "No."
Annoyed, I exhale a sharp breath. "Come on. You two have already met. Just go out with her this one time," I insist.
His face remains blank. "No. A, I don't do dates. And B, I don't ride the same rollercoaster twice."
I widen my eyes at that statement. "That's disgusting," I tell him, scrunching my nose.
He shrugs. "Anything else?"
I take his hand in a desperate move. "Come on! You want me to beg?"
That came out terribly wrong. I realize it when a little sparkle shines in his eyes and his lips curve into a bold grin. "Now I'm listening."
I sigh, looking up to the sky and regretting all the life choices that got me to this moment. "Please, Aaron, go out with my friend."
"What's in it for me?" he asks.
"Sex."
"With whom?"
"Cam."
"Then I'm not interested."
"Then who— No. Nope. Not happening," I state, raising my hands, when he winks. "I already told you this"— I point at the air between us — "is not happening. Ever. Nuh-uh."
Aaron smirks and then shrugs. "Why should I go out with her? I don't like her."
I make a frustrated noise. "Just go on a date with her once! You don't have to marry her. Go out, eat, talk, have sex if you want, don't if you don't, end of story. Come on, Aaron. Please?"
He looks at me, then at her, then back at me again. With a deep sigh, he says, "I'm gonna regret this... Fine. But tell her not to expect anything from me—"
I'm already squealing and throwing my arms around his neck. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" I repeat. He stiffens, so I pull back embarrassed. "Sorry. And thank you. You're the best."
Still slightly thrown off by my reaction, he scoffs, "Doubt that."
I point my finger at him and warn him, "Just don't hurt her, okay? Or else I'll cut your balls off."
"I'll try my best, sweetheart."
"Good boy. See you around."
I turn around and walk back to my friends, leaving a stunned Aaron behind me.
- Today -
So, here we are. Aaron is ready to go on a date and I am ready to spend the night with my brand new boyfriend.
"Yeah, Rose. Sorry. Can I call you back in a bit? Thank you." I warn him, glaring at him, "You better treat my friend right, gorgeous."
Aaron keeps his eyes on me, curiously studying me. "Okay..."
"I'm serious. Compliment her, tell her she's super funny, call her sweetheart—"
He interrupts me, "No."
I immediately frown. "No? No what?"
"I won't call her sweetheart," he replies, taking a spoon and reaching for my sauce. I slap his hand. "Hey!" he yelps.
"Hands back, Aaron. Why won't you call her sweetheart? Actually, you know what? I don't care. Just make her happy," I blurt out, stirring the cooking pasta.
I'm giving him my back, but I can feel him getting closer and towering over me from behind. "Because she's not you, sweetheart."
When I turn around, he's even closer than I thought. God, I hate being caged like this. "Aw, that's adorable. You have a crush on me?" I tease him, smirking up at him.
He licks his lips and leans in a little. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Heart?" His voice is low and breathy. I squint my eyes against the sunlight blinding me, moving a strand of hair behind my hair. He chuckles. "Chocolate."
Confused, I blink multiple times. "You have some serious issues with that word."
Aaron smiles and pulls back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you tonight after my wonderful date, sweetheart. Remember that having a baby at seventeen is not fun."
As he's exiting the kitchen, I throw a cloth at him, making him laugh. Sigh. This guy...
———
By seven, everything is ready. The pasta al forno is steaming and smells amazing. I made tiramisù, always following Rosy's advice and instructions.
She asked me if Aaron is the guy I'm dating, and I've never answered a question that fast. Rosy's reply reminded me of a teenage girl in heat. "He sounded sexy as hell, though."
Yes, Rosy, he is. Looks aren't everything. Though I simply laughed and shook my head. She even told me that I was young, I didn't have to be loyal to a boy who was a two out of ten when I had a ten at home. Even then, I opted for an embarrassed giggle.
Eventually, the conversation ended with her comment, "If you won't take him, I will. The younger the better." I hung up after that.
Now I'm almost done cleaning the kitchen. Aaron left a couple of minutes ago, followed by a very-hot-looking Grace. I think her relationship with Henry is doing pretty good. They're the cutest.
I texted Nate an hour ago to tell him not to be late, and he replied with, Of course, babe. He's going to be here any minute now, so I better be quick.
I run upstairs and let my hair down, taking the curling iron to give it some volume and curls. I opt for a very simple makeup look, not bothering with eyeliner or lipstick. It'll end up smeared, anyway. Ew, Lizzie.
After an eternity of staring at the closet, I finally pick out a short white dress with tiny red flowers on it. The hem reaches my mid-thigh, the sleeves short and the neckline not too low. It's very simple, but I love it nonetheless.
Walking back downstairs, I grab Milo and pirouette with him in my hands, laughing at his bored face. I kiss the top of his head and feed him. Then, I sit on the couch, drumming my fingers on my bare legs as I wait for Nate to walk through the door.
After twenty minutes, I'm sitting with my legs braced over the back of the couch and my head hanging down, staring at the wall upside down.
I unlock my phone and see that it's now seven forty-three. I groan, bored, and sit back up. My stomach grumbles. I grab my phone again and open Nate's chat.
Me, 7.58 p.m.: Everything okay?
No reply. What if something came up? What if he's hurt. Oh, God—
Nate, 8.01 p.m.: Yeah.
Oh. Okay.
Me, 8.01 p.m.: You're almost here?
Again, for a long while, there's no reply. Actually, there's no reply at all. Ever.
At nine, I say fuck it and get up from the couch, going into the kitchen. I take the pasta out of the oven and put a square of it on my plate. As I stick my fork in it, I stare at the empty seat in front of me with a scowl. I take a bite. At least it tastes good.
Picking up my food and a can of beer — please, Grace, don't find out about this — I walk outside and sit by the pool. Every now and then I check my phone, which doesn't have any notifications for me.
I chug down a mouthful of beer, staring at the sky dotted with tiny stars. It's already ten. And I'm bored and angry and I want to cry. Instead, I drink cheap beer like a stupid middle-aged man who lost his job and wears a stained wife-beater, sitting on a broken armchair while watching football. Yikes.
I sigh heavily, dipping my legs in the cold pool. How bad would it be if I went for a swim dizzy and in my lace underwear? Bad. Very bad.
Let's do it.
Clumsily, I strip out of the dress and let myself literally fall into the water. When I emerge — thankful for the waterproof mascara I'm wearing — I brace my forearms on the pool edge and take the last sip of my beer.
Tired, I lie in the pool, my underwear almost transparent and my body drained. I have to snap out of it. Pull my shit together. I should do drugs. What? No. Drugs are bad.
I swim back to the steps and get out, freezing at the cold air against my wet skin. I twist my hair to get most of the water out. I hear a noise, so I turn around and see the doors opening. When I see him standing there wide-eyed, I want to die.
*
Aaron
October 2020
Kill me.
Fucking. Kill. Fucking. Me.
Now, I know I love women and their bodies, but that girl is going to make my poor dick whither away. Who the fuck goes for a swim at night, in October, but most of all, without a fucking swimsuit? She's not naked, but with that soaked white lacy set, she might as well be.
I don't know what the hell is wrong with her, but if I have to stare at her body covered in water and basically nude for one more second, I'm going to die. Literally.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter, striding across the backyard with a semi boner between my legs. I pull off my jacket and walk up to her as fast as I can, damning the innocent smile on her face.
"Hi," Lizzie says. Does she know what she looks like right now? Fucking hell, spoon my eyes out of their sockets.
I throw my jacket over her shoulders, closing it in front of her. Oh, fuck me, she looks hot wearing this too. "What the hell are you doing?" I ask her, crouching down to grab her dress. That's on me. Going down and having an eyeful of her legs? Yeah, that's on me. Thank God my jacket covers her other parts.
"Swimming," she answers, tilting her head. "Why aren't you home having sex with Cameron?"
I frown at her, taking a step back to keep my hands away from her body. "Are you drunk?" I ask her.
She raises a finger. "Dizzy. Slightly. Beer doesn't get me off." And what does get you off, Lizzie?
"Where's Nate, Liz?" I ask her, looking around. "And how did you get here so fast?"
Lizzie stares at me for a long time, lost. "Wh— What do you mean? Nate's not here. That's why I'm, you know..." she says, adding a weird laugh at the end.
"I'm confused. I saw you two in the school parking lot, like, fifteen minutes ago while I was driving Cameron back home," I tell her, shaking my head at her stunned face. "Why—" Her face drops, her eyes stay fixed on the ground. Oh. Oh, fuck. "It wasn't you."
"It wasn't me."
I sigh. "Shit. Lizzie, I'm sorry, I just assumed— She had brown hair too, so I thought... I'm sorry." I'm a dick. I need to learn to shut the fuck up.
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. "It's okay. I... It's not your fault."
Agonizingly slowly, she takes off my jacket and gives it back to me. I look away from her body as she wears her dress again and brushes her hair back.
"I'll go to sleep," she murmurs.
Without thinking, I grab her hand and stop her. She looks at me with wary eyes. God, save me. "You wanna smoke?"
Surprisingly enough, she accepts. We sit on the ground, legs crossed, and facing each other. I give her the tobacco, a sheet of paper, and a filter. "Thanks."
"You know how to roll?"
"I haven't done it in a long time, but I should remember it."
Indeed, she rolls it like a pro. When she licks the paper to close the cigarette, she looks me straight in the eye, and damn it, that turns me on. I shift a little to adjust the growing bulge in my pants.
I give her my lighter and she thanks me. No one should look this hot smoking. Smoking hot. Hah, I'm hilarious. She blows out some smoke and looks at me. "So, how was your date?"
She seems so off. I hate it. "It was fine. She's not my type, though," I answer, filling my mouth with smoke.
Lizzie scoffs, using her empty plate as an ashtray. "What's your type then? And don't say you. I'll kick your ass if you say that," she tells me, staring straight ahead.
I shrug. "I'll shut up, then."
She turns to look at me with those rich brown eyes. "Wanna play a game?" she asks me.
I swallow. "What game?"
Before I can realize it, she's getting closer to me. I open my legs when I notice that she wants to be almost chest to chest. She bends her knees, her feet resting to my sides, keeping my legs hooked under hers. Oh, Lord.
"Uh... I'm confused," I tell her.
Again, she laughs. "Don't worry. It's fun. It's all about self-control." Which I seem to not know when I'm around you. "Look."
She takes her cigarette and inhales. Then, she grabs my face and pulls me closer. And closer. And oh, fucking hell, what is she doing? Is she about to kiss me? I stiffen, widening my eyes. "What are you doing, Lizzie?" I ask her.
In response, she laughs, the smoke leaving her mouth. "Trust me! I won't kiss you. That's the whole point of the game. Come on, let's try it again. I'm gonna win." Oh, okay.
God, I feel so stupid. "I don't like to lose. And this is dumb."
"You're dumb."
I'm about to reply when she inhales again and closes up. Her eyes are half-closed, fixed on my mouth, and I bet I look the fucking same. Our noses touch and I can feel her presence in every fiber of my body.
I part my lips to let her exhale the smoke in my mouth, but how am I supposed to hold back when she's basically already kissing me?
I lean in more, trying to press my lips against hers, but she pulls back slowly, making me follow her like a stupid puppy, while she chuckles. "Thought you didn't like to lose," she says, thin smoke sliding out of her mouth like water.
Still mere inches away from her, I clench my jaw and glance at her mouth, curled in a grin. "Sometimes losing has a better outcome than winning," I tell her. "So, fuck it."
I close the distance between us.
———
A/N
LMAO shame on me for this cliffhanger. This chapter was getting way too long.