One Night With Her Best Friend (6 page)

Finally,
Aaron said, his tone stiff and unfamiliar, “Washing me off your clothes and
your body isn’t going to wash me out of your life.”

She
ducked her head briefly as a sob threatened. He didn’t understand at all.

This
was so much worse than breaking up with Hugh—which had wounded her self-esteem
but not her heart.

She’d
never lived a happy, stable life without Aaron. He’d been part of it from the
beginning, just days after she and her mother had moved to town and started
building a good world for themselves. In some ways, her friendship with Aaron
had been the bedrock of her life. Once it was cracked, everything else might
fall apart.

“So
now you’re not even going to talk to me?” He sounded tired, almost bitter. She
still didn’t dare to look at his face.

“What
is there to talk about?” Pleased that her voice hadn’t broken, she stopped
staring at the sudsy water in the machine and closed the lid.

“I
think there’s a lot to say. Would you please look at me?”

She
let out a shaky breath and turned to meet his eyes. He was right. She couldn’t
act like a child. She had to face this—no matter how much it threatened to
crush her.

“I’m
sorry,” she admitted. “I just don’t know how to deal with this. I know it’s not
your fault, but we never should have done that.”

“It’s
partly
my fault.” His eyes were strangely cool. Watchful. “You didn’t
just jump me out of the blue. But I didn’t intend for it to happen. I
just…wasn’t thinking.”

“I
wasn’t either. But it’s changed everything, Aaron. I don’t know how we can be
friends like we were.”

Something
strange twisted on Aaron’s face. She didn’t understand it at all. “Maybe it’s
for the best.”

She
actually gasped at the pain of that remark—that he could see something good in
the crumbling of their friendship, which she’d always assumed he needed as much
as she did. “For the best?”

She
turned away so he wouldn’t see her expression.

It
was a futile effort. He just put a hand on her shoulder to turn her back around
to face him.

“Kate,”
he said, his eyes transforming into that intense heat she remembered from their
lovemaking earlier. “Kate.”

She
stared up at him, mesmerized. Her mind clearly wasn’t working, since she had no
idea what to expect. She wasn’t prepared when he took her face in one of his
big hands and then leaned down into a kiss.

She
responded immediately—that same hunger, pleasure, and excitement swelling up at
the touch of his lips. For a moment, she gave into the feelings, letting
herself drink in Aaron—
Aaron
—so familiar and yet absolutely new.

Then
she came back to her senses with a hard thud. She broke the kiss abruptly and
pushed him away as another wave of panic slammed into her.

She
felt vaguely sick, the way she had as a child when she’d had no idea what to
expect from day to day, when nothing in her world had remained in its place.

“No,”
she gasped, wiping at her mouth with her hand. “I don’t want that. I don’t
want
that.”

She
did
want it, but her world wasn’t going to survive it.

Aaron
just stared at her, something aching on his face.

It
hurt so much she had to harden her voice to keep it from breaking. “I’ve never
thought about you that way.”

“I
know you haven’t. But—”

“No.
There’s no ‘but.’ We can never be
that
. And now I’m not sure we can ever
be anything.”

There
was a long silence before Aaron replied. “I see.”

He
was stiff, unnatural, entirely un-Aaron-like.

Her
adorable, rumpled friend had vanished, and some hard, silent, sexy stranger had
taken his place.

She
wanted Aaron. Needed him. Missed him already. And he was getting farther and farther
away from her.

“If
that’s your final word, then I’ll go.”

She’d
hurt him—she could hear it in his cold voice—but she had no idea how to fix it.
“Okay,” she croaked.

“We
can talk later.”

“Okay.”

Then
he just walked out the door.

Kate stood staring at
the closed door of her apartment for a long time before she could make herself
move.

She’d
messed up. She’d really messed up.

She
never should have gone over to Aaron’s apartment earlier. She never should have
given in to the urge to have sex with him.

And
she never should have handled the aftermath so badly.

She
was used to being competent and in control.

She
wasn’t used to being such a mess.

But
there must still be a way to fix it, to put things back together again into the
safe, orderly existence she needed. The world where Aaron was her friend.

She
grabbed a bottle of water from the door of her refrigerator. Aaron always
mocked her because her refrigerator was so neat. Bottles of water—both flat and
sparkling—and his favorite beer in tidy rows on one shelf. Produce tucked into
drawers. Every surface immaculately clean. A couple of years ago, he’d rearranged
everything just to tease her, and she’d pretended not to react, not to care.
She hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction, but even such a small change
had completely unsettled her.

She
fought against that memory and instead went to find her notepad and pen and
take them to the sofa.

There
were only a few pages left of this notepad, but Aaron had already restocked the
pads in her drawer. He’d never let her run out.

She
stared down at the long piece of paper on her lap—line after line waiting for
her to fill up with a list, an organized attack, a way to fix this mess.

She
needed a plan.

She
was always good at making plans and following through on them.

She
looked at the empty page for a really long time.

She
couldn’t help but remember Aaron’s words from earlier that evening. He’d said
she lived by a pre-planned agenda. He’d said her lists didn’t really keep her
world in order, no matter how hard she tried.

He
knew her better than anyone. He would know what was wrong with her now.

For
a moment, she tried to imagine what could happen now—what life might look like with
her secure world and Aaron’s role as her friend shaken out of their normal
positions.

All
she could think about was the sickening instability of her first fourteen
years.

She
couldn’t—she just
couldn’t
—live a future that felt like that.

She
was suddenly aware that something was on her coffee table that hadn’t been
there before.

The
deep red roses she’d toppled earlier were now stuck haphazardly in a vase Aaron
must have taken from the top shelf of her kitchen cabinet.

Beside
the vase was a folded piece of paper. She picked it up and read the note.

I
know—they’re not perfectly arranged anymore, but I like them better this way. You’ll
never admit it but, if you give them a chance, I think you might like them too.
A.

She
stared at the note in momentary incomprehension. Then she stared at the roses
for a long time. She didn’t know if Aaron had tried to arrange them or if he’d
just stuffed the whole bunch into the wide mouth of the vase, but there was
something unexpectedly lush and appealing about the profusion of rich color and
the way the petals spilled messily over each other, some of them dropping to
the table surface below.

Hugh
had given her the roses—an elegant, ridiculously expensive arrangement. Orderly,
predictable, and soulless. Her first impulse was to throw them in the trash now,
but she stopped herself before she did.

Now
the roses looked more like Aaron than Hugh, and she didn’t want to get rid of
them.

She
wondered what Aaron was doing right now. If he was all right.  He might have
acted cool as he left, but she was afraid she’d hurt him.

On
that thought, she jumped off the sofa and ran across to the hall to his
apartment.

She
knocked. When he didn’t answer, she knocked again, calling through the door, “Aaron,
please. I’m sorry. Can I come in?”

He
still didn’t answer. She tried the door, and it was open. “I’m coming in!”

The
living room and kitchen were empty. The hallway and bathroom were empty. The
bedroom was empty.

But
she saw the drawer where he kept his gym clothes was hanging open in the
dresser, so she guessed where he might be.

She
left his apartment and walked down to their floor’s workout room at the end of
the hall.

It
wasn’t even five in the morning, so the treadmill, stair climber, recumbent
bike, and elliptical trainer were empty except for Aaron.

He
was running hard on the treadmill.

She
stood in the doorway and stared at him.

He
was the same Aaron he’d always been—disheveled hair, lean body, clever eyes.
But he was something else now. Something more.

He
couldn’t have been running for more than twenty minutes, but his shirt and skin
were soaked with sweat. The outline of his broad shoulders and the rippling
muscles of his arms and abdomen were clearly visible through the damp fabric.

Both
her body and her heart responded to the sight.

She
had no idea how it had happened. How her Aaron had turned into this.

But
she still wanted him in her life. Needed him. That wasn’t going to change.

He
broke his run abruptly when he saw her standing in the doorway. He adjusted the
controls on the machine and gradually slowed to a walk.

She
waited without speaking until he stepped off the treadmill.

As
he wiped off his drenched face with a towel, she came closer.

“I’m
sorry, Aaron. I’m so sorry.”

He
sighed as he lowered the towel. “I know. I’m sorry too.”

She
blinked. “I was the one who made a mess of it. You didn’t do anything.”

“Didn’t
I?”

“What
did you do wrong?” This wasn’t going the way she’d expected. She’d thought she
would profusely apologize and he would forgive her and they’d figure out a way
to work through this situation.

Aaron’s
expression was still strangely distant, though.

He
reached over and picked up his bottle of water, taking a swallow before he
responded. “I keep having unrealistic hopes for you, even though I should know
better. I get disappointed when they’re not realized, and that makes me react
badly.”

Kate’s
throat ached as she processed his words, but she was going to respond in a
mature way this time. “I’m sorry…” Her voice broke so she tried again. “I’m
sorry if I’ve been a disappointment to you. I know I’m a mess, but I can do
better. Please don’t give up on me.”

He
turned away and gave a huff of bitter laughter. The sound of it hurt as much as
anything had.

“Aaron,
please,” she begged, reaching out to grab his sweaty shirt. “I know I didn’t
treat you right. I just panicked, and I’m so sorry. But I can’t lose you. I
just can’t. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

He
met her eyes, and she didn’t understand the expression there. “Mine too.”

She
let out a shaky sigh of relief. “So it’s going to be all right. We can work
this out.”

Aaron
gently extricated her hands from his shirt. “I don’t know if we can.”

His
tone sounded so final it terrified her. “Yes, we can. We’ve gotten through so
much together. Why shouldn’t we be able to get through this too?”

Aaron
looked away briefly. She could tell it was hard for him to say the next thing.
“Because I don’t feel about you the way you feel about me, Kate. I just don’t,
and I can’t seem to change it.”

She
took a step back, as breathless as if she’d been kicked in the gut.

Had
he somehow stopped loving her and she hadn’t known?

“I…I
see,” she managed to say.

He
rubbed his forehead with his hand and continued, “I know it’s wrong because
it’s not what you want, but I can’t seem to talk myself out of it. Every time I
look at you, I want you. Not as a friend. I want you in my arms. I want you in
my bed. I want you all the time.”

The
bottom fell out of Kate’s world again—for the second time in less than a minute.

Aaron
plowed on, as if now that he’d started he couldn’t stop. “I know you’ve never
thought about me like that. And, after tonight, after you still don’t want me
despite how good we were together, I’m going to have to accept that you never
will. But I can’t seem to change how I feel, and it’s always going to get in
the way of our friendship.”