Love Me (41 page)

“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 17
^th
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.”

I turn away from him and head toward the stairs to the dance floor. Looking back over my shoulder, I smirk and say, “Come find out.”

He catches up to me quickly and pulls me onto the dance floor, where he wraps his arm around my waist and moves his leg between mine. 

I can already tell that this long gown is not going to work well for serious dancing. But it does have a long slit up the front. Maybe I could . . .

I speak loudly over the music. “Let me fix my dress.”

“Your dress is perfect,” he yells back. “You look gorgeous.”

“Well, now I wanna look hot. So back off for a second.”

He smiles at me, holds his hands up, and backs away. Just a little.

I reach down, grab each side of the hem, slowly scrunch the layers up, and then tie it into place at mid thigh.

I raise my eyebrows at Aiden to see what he thinks. He grabs my ass and pulls me closer. “Mission accomplished.”

We dance forever. 

Sometimes fast, laughing, and making a spectacle of ourselves. Other times, slow and mellow. Always, his leg is between mine, radiating energy up my thighs. 

Just his hands all over me and his leg between mine turn me on in ways no one else has. What is it about this boy? Why does he feel like my other half? How does he anticipate my moves before I know them myself?

The music is blaring. The crowd is hot and sweaty. Aiden pulls me closer and sways slowly with me. And his delicious lips find my neck.

I hold my arms up in the air and sway to the music while he bites me. 

Teeny little adorably hot bites. 

Somehow in between the bites, I feel his tongue on my neck too. I’m not even sure. I’m pretty sure he is a vampire. 

But a special one. 

One that doesn’t suck my blood with each bite. One that injects love potion or some sort of ecstasy type drug into my skin.

Apparently this is like the date in the play. The amazing, never-ending date. 

After the club, we go out for breakfast at a total dive. I find out that he loves chicken and waffles, something I have never considered pairing together, and is a Southern thing. 

And, I have to admit, damn good. 

It’s nearly four in the morning by the time we get back to my loft. 

“Bath or hot tub?” he asks me.

My mind races. Trying to script out scenarios. But it’s on overload and all that I can process is bathtub = naked. Hot tub = swimsuits. 

“Bath tub?”

“That sounds nice. All that dancing, it will be nice for you to relax.”

“
Me
to relax? As in you’re not joining me?”

He kisses the tip of my nose. “Why did you choose a bath? Because you were hoping for nakedness?”

“Oh, uh, no. Of course not. I just, thought, I mean, we talked about a bath. I have bubbles.”

Ohmigawd. Am I ten?
I have bubbles?

He gives me a sexy grin. “I like bubbles. Should we finish the champagne in there too?”

“Uh, yeah. Um, you do that and I’ll, um, be in my closet.”

I walk in my closet and jump up and down. I was starting to get tired, but now my body is racing with energy and adrenaline. I want to run through the house singing,
I’m going to have sex with the hottie god. I’m going to have sex
. . . Shit. I’m going to have sex with him? Do I want to? 

I hear him walk back into the bathroom. I peek out the closet door and see that he has the bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two flutes. He sets it all on the floor next to tub and starts the water. Then he starts opening cabinets. He pokes around, pulls out two fluffy white towels and a bottle of bubble bath, and dumps a bunch in. 

He’s also wearing a swimsuit.

I quickly pull off my dress, hang it up, slip on my cashmere robe, and saunter out. 

He immediately pulls me into his arms, kisses me, and slides his hand inside my robe. 

Straight on top of my naked boob. 

“Oh!” he says, quickly pulling his hand out from under my robe, like my skin just burned it. “I didn’t know . . .”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t sure what the plan was.”

“The
plan
? Tonight is about
not
making plans.”

“Uh, okay. I’ll, uh, go put on a, uh, swimsuit.”