Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,48

were either going to keep doing the same dance we've been doing—the one where I flirted and he ran away and neither of us admitted that something was growing between us—or something would change.

I definitely knew which outcome scared me the most, but I wasn't entirely sure which one I most wanted.

That was until I opened the front door. Aiden stood there, his shoulders rounded and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. But while his body posture was the same as usual, his clothes were totally different. Instead of his trademark designer jeans and artfully weathered T-shirt, tonight he was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt. The polo was forest green, a color that made his pale skin become creamy and inviting. It played up the green hints in Aiden's hazel eyes and lent a pink warmth to his cheeks

Not once in my entire life had I ever been attracted to preppy boys. But goddamn, the look worked for him.

Aiden's cheeks flushed darker under my scrutiny. “Fuck, I look ridiculous. I knew I was overthinking it.”

A smile stretched on my face. “No way. You look amazing.”

The words came out before I could filter them into something a little less obviously flirtatious. But they were still true. Aiden had that boy-next-door look nailed. And…now I was thinking deeply about how good it would feel to nail the boy next door.

Before Aiden could throw his walls back up, I stepped to the side to invite him in. I studied his every move as he entered my home. The way his eyes moved along the walls that contained photos of my grandmother and myself and the crew. The way his gaze lingered on the cozy couch in the living room and the large TV set. And the smirk that appeared on his face at the lace-like tablecloth over the small table in the dining room.

“What?” I asked with a grin.

“Nothing,” Aiden said with a shrug so casual it shouldn’t have set my heart racing like it did. “I just expected more of a bachelor pad than an old lady’s hangout.” He nodded toward the table with the lace. “Apparently, you have hidden depths beyond flirtatious tattooed doofus.”

What started as a chuckle quickly evolved into a roar of laughter. “No, no depths here. You've got me pinned. I share this house with my grandma, but she's out for the night.”

It was my turn to flush as I realized what that probably sounded like. I worried Aiden might think I was making an innuendo, hinting at what might come. Before he could wonder too much, I decided to change the subject toward safer things. Like food. “I made dinner, are you hungry yet? Or would you rather work first?”

“I'm starving,” he admitted, his hand resting on his belly. “And it smells amazing in here. Did grandma cook us dinner?”

“I cooked us dinner,” I said in my most mock-offended tone. “But,” I added sheepishly, “Grandma was basically a backseat cook.”

“Food is food,” he said. I couldn't have agreed more. Especially not when it was this dinner, the kind of rich and savory comfort food that could turn anyone into a giant butterball of happiness.

“Hey, is it okay if I use the restroom first?” Aiden asked as I started to head toward the kitchen.

I pointed in the direction of the downstairs bathroom, which was next to my room. “Second door to your left down the hall.”

While he was gone, I set the table. Plates, forks and knives in their correct places, a glass for water and some glasses for wine. Just in case he wanted something extra. Not because I was trying to make this fancy.

I was kidding no one, especially not myself.

I did manage to stop myself short from lighting candles. That would certainly set a mood. A mood that would most certainly chase Aiden straight out of the front door.

When Aiden returned, his eyebrows bowed sharply as he took in the spread. I had the chicken fried steak smothered in gravy over creamy mashed potatoes and a side of buttered peas. Vegetables were still something I was working my way up to with my palate. When you're on your own at sixteen and the one making choices about your food, you tended to not pick anything fresh or green. Developing taste buds that wanted more than chicken nuggets was taking a long time.

Peas smothered in butter was one of the few green food items I knew I liked.

Aiden and I sat, and I