Inseparable Strangers (8 page)

According to my
newest reliable nursing assistant, WebMD, Aaron’s ribs should still have a few
more weeks left to heal, but the way he moved, you would think he had
miraculously healed. It amazed me when I would walk by his door and hear him
huffing as he did push-ups, sit-ups and who knows what other type of exercises.
For the next couple of weeks, the erotic and sometimes terrifying dreams
continued. I wouldn’t have the dreams every night, but they did visit me at
least two to three times a week.

Not only were the
dreams becoming a normal routine, the conversations and coffee with Aaron in
the morning was turning into a daily ritual too. The time to send him packing
was closing in, but after spending day in and out with him, I was beginning to
dread that moment. He was growing on me like fungus on an old piece of bread.
You could scrape it off, but it would just grow right back. There was something
enticing about him. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it off.

During the day, I
would give him the run of the house with the rule of staying on the main level
still enforced. After the first week of eating my food, and using the utilities
in my house, Aaron explained he was a Jack-of-All-Trades and wanted to earn his
stay until he was well enough to leave.

He didn’t
understand I had a housekeeper
and
a groundsman to keep my home inside
and out in pristine condition. I tried explaining this to him, but he was
determined to repay me in some sort of way. I wanted to tell him he’d already
helped when he somewhat saved my life that day my tire blew out. That was a
topic I still hadn’t brought up and he hadn’t either. Every morning while we
sat at the bar and enjoyed our cup of coffee together, the question hung on the
tip of my tongue. This time, I could no longer bite it off.

“Talk to me,
Aaron. You remember more than you’re leading on,” I said, standing in front of
the kitchen sink. After finishing his coffee, he always washed his cup and any
other dirty dish in the sink. He wasn’t avoiding the topic any longer.

He cocked an
eyebrow up. “Are you implying I’m lying to you?”

 “Not exactly, but
I do think you’re withholding information.” I folded my arms across my chest to
let him know I planned on staying in this exact spot for a while. “You can’t
expect me to bring you, a complete stranger, into my home, house you, feed you,
and take care of you all the while I have no idea what kind of person you might
be. What if you are a murderer?” He didn’t need to know I had actually thought
that in the beginning.

He stared long and
hard at me. His beautiful green eyes pierced right through me. I had him
cornered, and I don’t think he liked it. He sighed then sat down on the bar
stool. “Fine. What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice giving signs he
was irritated.

“I want to know
why those guys were beating you up. I want to know if you recognized me when I
found you. I want to know who you really are. Where you’re really from, and
what secrets you are hiding.”

He nodded then
swallowed. Scratching his neck, he stared off in space as he started to talk.
“First, let’s get this straight, I’m not a murderer. I’ve never hurt anyone
intentionally, nor will I ever. Second, I don’t know who those guys were or why
they were beating me up. Guys like me are an easy target for thugs. Third, yes,
I recognized you, but not immediately. Fourth and fifth, I’m Aaron Nichols, the
son of Lewis and Judy Nichols. I was born and raised fifteen minutes away from
here, but moved away when my life took a turn that was out of my control. I
think from the way I looked when we first met, you can kind of figure out how
the rest of my story goes.” He looked me in the eye as soon as he finished.

Wow.

I nodded with
satisfaction. He didn’t tell me details, but the info he did give was a start.
There was always tomorrow or the next day to dig up more.

~~~

 After spending
the day at the spa, I came home around dinner time and found Aaron busying
himself in my kitchen. The rich smell of spicy seasonings whirled throughout
the house. “Are you cooking?” I asked as I sat down a bag of men’s clothing I’d
picked up while I was by the strip mall. Again, another endeavor I’d never
expected to find myself doing. I would be lying if I said I was tired of
looking at his beautiful body in sweat pants and plain white t-shirts. Not that
I’d actually seen his body, but if it was anything like what I’d dreamed about,
then it was gorgeous. And it sure as hell was too sexy to hide underneath
unflattering garb.

He craned his head
around and shot me a crooked grin. “Uh… yeah. I hope you don’t mind,” he said
spooning out a dark reddish sauce onto something in a casserole dish. “I
thought I’d make enchiladas for dinner.” With a damn smile like that, how could
I be upset? Now that I had a better look, I saw the rolled up tortillas stacked
nicely in a perfect row.

“Do you actually
know how to cook?” It was a stupid question, but I asked it anyway. I could
blatantly see he knew what he was doing in the kitchen by the way he moved
about around the stove. After living on his own, I guess he was pretty self-sufficient.
He took a tortilla, placed it in the casserole dish, filled it with meat and
cheese, and then rolled it up nice and neat. He continued at a steady pace
until he’d used up all the ingredients. The timer on the oven went off right
about the time he picked up the dish to place it inside.

After he closed
the oven door, he turned around to face me with that damn charming smile,
framed by a five o’clock shadow I was growing a little too fond of. I busted
out into a fit of giggles when I noticed he was wearing the apron that Zoila usually
wore — a pink apron trimmed in purple lace with unicorns printed all over it.

“Are you laughing
at me?” His eyebrows were knitted together, trying to act serious, but I could
see the pull of a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. Tasty lips I remember
leaving a heated trail over my body. I had to constantly remind myself that it
was only dreams, but they somehow felt so damn real.

My breath caught
and I nodded, “Yes. If only you could see yourself right now.”

“What?” His
forehead wrinkled in confusion until he glanced down at what I was looking at
and noticed the unicorns dancing across his chest. “Oh. Ha ha. What can I say,”
he shrugged as if it didn’t faze him, “I’m infatuated with fictional animals.”

He’s killing me! I
mean, one hundred percent melting the panties right off of my ass. How am I
attracted to a damn homeless man? Think of him the day he helped you in the
rain, Lennox. I need to keep telling myself that. I need the constant reminder.
I’m supporting him. He’s living with me. I don’t take care of men; they take
care of me. They support me.

Quickly changing
the subject, I picked up the bag I’d brought in with me. “I bought you a few
things while I was out today,” I said, holding the bag out to him.

The suave smile
he’d had just moments ago, fell in disappointment. He cocked his head to the
side and inhaled deeply followed by a loud sigh. “Lennox, I can’t accept it so
you might as well take it back.”

I was slightly
offended. Did he not understand that I never buy anything for anyone unless it
was a holiday or a very special occasion? “You don’t even know what I bought
you.”

“It doesn’t
matter, you’ve done so much for me already, and I already feel like a burden.
Anything more than giving me a place to stay while I heal is just…well, too
much,” he replied untying the cute apron from behind his back. He then pulled
it over his head and a hint of skin showed below the hem of his shirt. My eyes
feasted on the treasure trail I wanted to follow, a trail that would lead me to
the big grand prize.
Stop! Stop! Stop!

Quickly, I forced
myself to look away from him. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he had no clue
how stubborn I could be, or how I didn’t understand the meaning to the word no.

He turned away
from me without saying a word and walked down the hall. I was about to follow
him until I heard the bathroom door close. He did it purposely. That was the
only room I couldn’t follow him in. 

After waiting for
about five minutes, I figured he was either hiding from me or doing things I
preferred to not think about. I snatched up the bag and trotted in his room,
er, the spare room. While he was playing chicken shit in the bathroom, I took
the shirts, pants and underwear I’d bought, ripped the tags off, and then
placed them in the drawers. He’d been using whatever he found in them that fit,
so these shouldn’t be a problem. I’d show him. If I lowered my standards to buy
for a fucking homeless man then by God, he was going to wear the damn shit.

If someone had
told me a month ago that I would be housing a stranger who lived lower than the
poverty line, and not only considered him a newfound friend, but was also
physically attracted to him, I would’ve called them the biggest damn liar on
the face of the earth.
Did I say physically attracted? Okay, sexually
attracted too. But I blame that strictly on the dreams.
  

When I heard the
doorknob to the bathroom rattle, I jetted out of the room and back into the
kitchen.

Aaron walked back
in the kitchen complacently as if he’d won the battle of the clothes. I turned
my head so he couldn’t see the massive grin I was fighting. “Feel better now?”

When I turned back
around, his lively green’s eyed me curiously. “That’s a loaded question. You’re
going to have to be more specific.”

It then hit me
just how many different ways that could come off. “I meant you’re short, well,
not short, but extensive bathroom break.”

“Are you seriously
asking me in an ambiguous way if I just took a shit?” he asked with his chin
tucked in toward his chest, looking at me from the top of his eyelids.

I felt warmth
crawl over my face. It wasn’t hot in the house. Was I having a hot flash? I was
far too young to start having hot flashes. Was I getting sick? Something funky
was going on with my body and it was freaking me the fuck out.

Aaron grabbed my
attention by snickering every few minutes. I caught him sneaking a peek at me
before averting his eyes in the other direction. He was trying to act
nonchalant, but he was sucking at it.

“Is something
funny? Are you laughing at me?” Could he not see I was in the middle of a
self-imposed crisis?

“Sorry. It’s just
you’ve never struck me as the type of person to get embarrassed, but your
pretty face is saying otherwise.”

Holy shit! I’m
blushing. Now he’s pointed it out to me, I’m blushing even more. My face feels
like it’s about to engulf in flames.
He just said I was
pretty. That is the first time he had verbally given me a compliment. Normally
it was just his stares that told me he found me pleasant to look at. And what
did he mean I didn’t strike him as the type to get embarrassed? I asked him
that too.

“What kind of
person do you see me as?” My curiosity was piqued. And the sad part was, I
think I secretly wanted him to like me.
Who the hell am I and what the hell
did somebody do with the real me?
Wanting some freak to be attracted to me
was hitting an all-time low.

He smirked,
“Another time, another day.”

“What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“One of these days
I’ll answer that question but today is not the day,” he said matter of factly.

After he leaves we
probably won’t ever cross paths again. I needed to know now. Dancing over to
him, I grabbed his arm, and his rigid bicep flexed underneath my grip. I didn’t
let go. “Tell me,” I whined.

A playful smile
played across his lips. He shook his head while he cleaned up the counter. My
hold on his arm didn’t seem to bother him, in fact, he didn’t even pull it
away. The more I tugged, the more he flexed. The more his muscles tightened
under my fingertips, the more it turned me on. If I didn’t know any better I’d
say he was flirting with me…or maybe I was flirting with him. Either way, I
secretly liked it.

I wasn’t giving
in, though. A little begging gets you far, or at least it did with my daddy.
“Please?” I pleaded with my bottom lip stuck out. He turned to look at me, but
his eyes never made their way to mine; they stopped on my mouth instead. His
breathing grew heavy, and I could feel his muscles tense underneath my grip.

“Why do I have
this feeling nobody ever tells you no?” His brown lashes fanned around his eyes
making the green stand out vividly. For a second, I forgot what I was going to
say. He captivated me. He had this eccentric control over me. There were so
many times when I looked in his eyes, like, really looked into them, and became
powerless. When he realized he had me captivated, he held onto me tightly.

Silence echoed
around us.

Until he broke it.

Without ever
taking his eyes off of me his voice dropped low and seductive. “Your icy
exterior is only paper thin. Beneath that bitchy persona you
try
to
portray, I know there’s a kind and loving heart beating. You’ve just not met
the right person to crack the facade.” He pulled away from my grasp and started
to walk down the hall. When he was about two steps in, he turned back around,
walked up to me, bent his head down toward my ear and whispered, “Be careful, I
will melt you.” Then he retreated back to his room leaving me standing with my
mouth open.