Indirect Route (9 page)

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Authors: Claire Matthews

BOOK: Indirect Route
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CHAPTER 14

 

AARON

 

“’Sup, Dillon?”

“Nothing’s
‘sup
, Mark.  Why do you keep barging into my office?  I’ve got tons of work to do.”  Aaron was cross, and he didn’t really care if he was coming across as rude to his boss.  Gene had completely screwed up the Metrodrive project while he was away with Janie, and it had taken him forever to get things back on track. 

“I wanted to see if you were interested in lunch, but I can see now’s not a great time,” Mark said, as he carefully backed out of the office.

“No, wait.  Wait.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t take my bad mood out on you.  How about Culver’s?”  Aaron logged off his computer and reached into the desk drawer for his wallet and phone.

“Culver’s?  The restaurant?”  Mark looked uneasy.  “I was thinking we’d eat here.  You didn’t bring food from home?”

“No. I was planning on hitting the pizza buffet, but I know you need to watch that girlish waist of yours—Culver’s has lady salads, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck off, man.  You really want to eat out?” 

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Aaron said with a quick
it’s no big deal
shrug.  “I’m trying to get over my weird restaurant thing.  You know.”

“Well, I mean…that’s great.”  Mark grinned broadly.  “I finally have someone I can stick with the check.”

Once they’d settled into the rustic booth at Culver’s American Café, Mark grabbed a breadstick and began peppering Aaron with questions.

“So what’s up with you and Janie?  Something’s up, I know it.  Whatever you did to screw it up, I can help you fix it.  I’m the shizz with the ladies.”  Aaron’s breadstick flew over the table and landed in Mark’s face.

“I didn’t screw it up, and it’s been handled.  Well, I guess it’s been handled.”  Aaron shared the story of his parking lot discussion with Janie from the day before.

“Wow.  Dude.  That’s pretty hard core.”  Marks’ look of respect made Aaron shake his head. 

“I don’t know, man.  It may have been a huge mistake, confronting her like that.”  He’d stayed awake all night, replaying the conversation in his head.  He’d called her a chickenshit.  Twice.  He was no Casanova, but he was pretty sure that lobbing insults at women wasn’t the best way to win them over.

“You laid it on the line, man.  I’m proud of you.”

“What if she never speaks to me again?”  Aaron looked down at his plate, embarrassed to have put words to his greatest fear.

“Dude.  You’re out of the office.  Eating lunch in a restaurant.  Pursuing women.  It looks as if you’re living your life for the first time in a long time.  So regardless of how things work out with you and Janie, I’d say you’re golden.  Right?”

Aaron just nodded, and took another bite of his sandwich.  His anxiety was high, but not so high that he couldn’t cope.  And Mark was right.  This was the best he’d felt in months—no, years. And at least he wasn’t a chickenshit.

***

It was almost 11 pm when he heard the chime of an incoming text from his phone in the bedroom.  Rising from the couch, he swiped the screen to read it.

Janie:  Are you home?

Aaron swallowed, and looked up into the reflection of himself in the mirror over his dresser. He looked…kind of freaked out.  But he could do this.

Aaron:  Yes.  Are you?

Janie:  Actually, I’m standing outside your complex. 

Aaron:  On the street?  Alone?  At this time of night?

Janie:  Yes.  The meth dealers are swarming.  Do you have any cash I can borrow?

Aaron:  Please get up here now—I’ll buzz you in.

By the time Aaron made it to the intercom, he heard a knock at the front door.  He opened it to find Janie in a slouchy t-shirt and leggings, with two coffee cups in her hand.

“Hot chocolate?” She offered one of the cups to Aaron.

“It’s August.  And it closed in on 100 degrees today.”

“I know, but I got it from McDonalds.  It seemed better than a juice box.”  She gave him a tentative grin.

“You know, the hot drink machines at McDonalds are more likely to be sanctioned in health inspections than any other piece of kitchen equipment.”

“Really?” Janie cried, her grin fading into a disappointed grimace.

“No, I just made that up.  Come on in.”

Janie elbowed him as she walked by, and he took one of the cups off her hands.  They walked silently into the living area, and sat at opposite ends of Aaron’s long leather couch.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked, blowing into the tiny sip hole of her cup.

“No.”

“I’m sorry to come by so late.”

“S’okay.”

They stared at each other for another long moment.  Aaron cleared his throat.  Was he supposed to talk?  He sure hoped not, because he had nothing.

“Um, yeah.  So I’m here.  Trying to shed my chickenshit status.”

Aaron grimaced.  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yes, you should.  You were right.  I’ve been a coward.  If something seems like it might be hard or complicated, I back away.”  She bit her lower lip.  “It’s not even something I do consciously.  I think it’s just reflexive.”

“Most people are risk-averse,” Aaron noted.

“But what if the risk is worth it?” 

Aaron took a long drag of his hot chocolate, then shrugged his shoulders.

“So it sounds like you’ve been taking some risks lately,” she added, shoving his shoulder.  Aaron felt his cheeks grow warm. 

“Well, if you consider eating a taco from El Pollo Loco living on the edge, then I guess I have.”

“Don’t downplay it.  I’m proud of you.  And maybe I can take some cues from you, too.”  She took a step closer and placed her hot chocolate on the coffee table.  “So, if I was to say that I like you…actually, more than like you…”  Her second step put her squarely in front of him.  She took his cup and placed it beside her own.  Then she placed her hands on his shoulders.  “Would you consider giving a chickenshit like me a second chance?”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.  He didn’t want to get his hopes up before all the cards were on the table.

“A second chance at what?”

“Us.”  She stood on her toes and planted a tiny kiss on his cheek, right near the corner of his lips.  He could easily turn it into something more, with the slightest of movements.  But he hesitated.

“You and me?  Like, as a couple?”  The corner of his mouth lifted now, as did hers.  “I don’t know, I may have to weigh my options. Word around town is that I’m quite a catch.”  He draped his arms around her waist.

“I agree.  What can I do to convince you?” She asked with a grin.

“I bet you’ll think of something,” he murmured, before leaning down and capturing her lips with his.  He felt the warm, delicious pull from the bottom of his toes.  “I’ve been waiting to do that again,” he said, feeling the caress of her breath against his cheek.  Aaron let out a sound, half groan, half laughter, and pulled away.

“Let’s slow down for a second.  Do we need to talk about your dad?” he asked, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Yes and no.  I mean, I probably need to talk to someone about him.  And my mom.  That person may be you, or may even be a therapist.  But I’m in touch with Linda, and she and I are going to talk to his doctors and see if there’s anything they can do to prepare him for a visit.  You know, from me.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“No!” she laughed.  “But I’m considering it.”

“Considering the risk,” Aaron added.  Then he bent to kiss the tip of her nose.  “You’re gotten pretty brave here lately, Janie.  I think you can handle it.”

“Thanks.  But back to the present for a second--is it too late to grab some a bite to eat?  Because I’m starving.”

Aaron squeezed her upper arms.  “Sounds good—I’ll grab my coat.  I bet there’s some greasy spoon still open at this time of night.”

“I was thinking you could cook for me. You promised, remember?”  Her cheeks flushed, and he bent to press a hard kiss on her lips.

“I’m going to make you an omelet that’ll knock your socks off.”

“Promises, promises,” she chided, and followed him into the kitchen. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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