sounds bad when you say it like that,” Aiden says, defending himself.
“What do you mean? Why?” Cole asks.
I finally give in to the urge to glance at Aiden. He’s looking at the bottle of wine in Cole’s hands, avoiding me.
“He says it’s because he doesn’t want a bunch of random guys coming in and out of our condo.”
“You could always just go to the guy’s place,” Cole points out.
He makes a good point.
“True, and it’s not as if Aiden doesn’t have girls parading in and—”
“Are you going to open that any time soon?” Aiden asks, pushing off his stool to take the bottle out of Cole’s hands. He tries to brush past me to get to the wine key in the drawer I’m standing in front of, but I don’t bother moving to let him by. I’m curious about his mood.
He gives me a mocking glance when I continue to block his way.
I mimic him.
His lips tip into a smirk, and I cross my arms.
Then, fed up with me, he puts the wine bottle on the island, places his hands on my hips, and pivots me around so he can push me back against the counter opposite where I was. I don’t think he meant to put as much force behind it as he does, because I knock against a plate and it rattles in the quiet kitchen. My heart hammers in my chest and my eyes flare up at him. He’s still touching me, his hands at my waist.
An invisible string pulls taut between us and I swear he’s about to say something to me, in front of Cole, but then he shakes his head and turns to retrieve the wine opener.
I’m too embarrassed to look at Cole.
He must think we’re so weird, and it’s true. We are. We’re at once an old married couple and complete strangers. We know so much about each other—tics, habits, patterns of life—but I don’t know what his lips feel like. I’ve never felt the weight of him pinning me down onto a bed, his hands on me, between my thighs.
I let Cole and Aiden get back to work after the pizza comes out of the oven. I retreat to the confines of my room and try to use my door to shove Aiden out of my thoughts. This space is my solace. There’s none of him in here, no stray black hairs or empty coffee cups or sharpened pencils.
Friday is a blur of activity as I continue getting the lay of the land with Elise. She made me move to a small desk adjacent to her office. I have a snazzy new computer and a slew of crystals arranged at precise locations behind my monitor.
“Do not move them,” she warned me. “It’ll throw off your chakras.”
At lunch, I accidentally knock one over onto the floor. The sound it makes is so ominous, I half expect the building to come down around me.
With wide eyes, I whip around to face Elise’s office, but thankfully, she’s inside talking on the phone while bouncing up and down on a huge blue exercise ball. Relieved she didn’t catch me damaging her property and my chakras, I get on all fours and crawl toward the crystal, careful not to bump it against anything as I lift it back onto my desk like it’s my most prized possession.
Dan’s there waiting for me as I straighten up onto my knees. He’s a few feet away, his hands on his hips, his eyes crinkled at the edges. He’s deeply amused to have found me in this compromising position.
“My crystal fell,” I explain, as if that makes sense to anyone outside the la-la land Elise inhabits.
He points to the row of them on my desk. “Shouldn’t matter. You have quite a few.”
“Elise told me they’ll help align the points of energy in my body. Don’t touch that purple one unless you’re ready to become a father. Apparently, it helps with fertility.”
He takes a healthy step away from it, and I laugh.
“I’m kidding. I don’t know what any of them are supposed to do. They look like dust collectors to me, but don’t tell Elise that.”
He zips his lips then nods his head in the direction of the elevators.
“I came down to invite you to lunch, but it looks like you already have it taken care of.”
I glance down at my arugula salad covered in spindly alfalfa sprouts. No dressing, extra raw beets—just the way Elise eats it. She took the liberty