find out,” he says, glancing at the door I’m standing in front of.
“Oh, sorry,” I say sheepishly.
Aiden’s the one who could get in trouble but I’m the one worried about it; he looks completely unfazed. I open the door and am met with three blank but intimidating faces.
“It’s about time,” Mayor Andrew Kessler comments, glancing into the house behind me.
Well, then.
“Can I help you?” I ask him, slightly annoyed but still keeping my polite voice in check.
“Yes, actually. I’d like to speak with my son.”
“Then you have the wrong house.” Aiden steps out from behind me, not that I was doing much to cover him in the first place. Andrew smiles a smile that I can automatically tell isn’t genuine.
“Aiden. Look at you. You’ve grown into quite the young man.”
My eyes narrow at the mayor, and I can’t see Aiden’s reaction, but I’m sure it’s similar to mine.
“What are you doing here?” Aiden asks in a tone that sends chills down my spine; it’s the same one he uses on people who aren’t me.
Aiden’s an inch or two taller than his father. Andrew isn’t out of shape in the least bit, with broad shoulders and a hint of some muscle, but Aiden definitely has more muscle on him with all the time he dedicates to working out. But their similar physiques is where the comparison ends. Aiden would never abandon his family.
“I wanted to talk,” Andrew states, sounding much too calm for someone who’s talking to the son he deserted years ago. “Are you going to invite me in or keep us standing out here like strangers?”
Aiden lets out a quick, humorless chuckle. “The second one.”
He starts to close the door but Andrew quickly slams his hand onto it, stopping it from closing.
“I think it’s best if we have a quick chat,” he asserts, pushing the door open with authority and walking in, the two men who are with him following suit.
Aiden’s facial expression doesn’t change but his hand clenches into a fist and the muscle in his jaw twitches.
He closes the door and we follow Andrew into the house just as Annalisa and Julian walk out of their room. They look at the mayor standing in our living room with the two other men, then back at Aiden. Last night, Aiden told everyone (who was home and minus his brothers) who the mayor really was, so they look torn on how to react to the sight.
Julian eyes the two other men, who clearly look like bodyguards and still haven’t said a word. “Is everything okay here?”
“It’s fine.” Aiden waves him off with a straight face. “Let’s go talk on the back porch.”
He leads the mayor and his two friends to the back, and I stay beside Annalisa and Julian as we watch them head outside.
It’s driving me crazy not knowing how Aiden is feeling with all of this. This is the first time he’s talking to his father since the man deserted him and his family, and now here he is, strolling into Aiden’s life like he’s a longtime golf buddy. I wish I could read Aiden’s face like I can other people’s.
Once Andrew and his friends are outside, Aiden turns to me. “Are you coming?”
Those three words catch me so off guard that I just stare at him dumbly. He wants me there with him, sitting in on his family drama?
“Amelia?” he asks again, waiting for me.
Shaking off my awestruck expression, I follow him outside and sit in the chair directly across from Andrew, separated only by a small, outdoor coffee table. His “friends” remain standing behind him until Andrew waves them off. They head down the porch steps and walk out of hearing distance but remain close enough to run back and intervene if something happens.
Why does a small-town mayor even need bodyguards?
Aiden closes the door to the house and sits beside me, and we all stare at each other in an intimidating silence.
I can’t help but feel like a child who was called into the principal’s office, about to be scolded. From what I can tell so far, Andrew Kessler is a very well-spoken, well–put together man who gives off an air of superiority and a large sense of entitlement. He has slightly long, slicked back, dirty-blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and well-maintained stubble that defines his already straight jawline. It almost pains me to admit that he’s a handsome man, wearing an expensive-looking suit and with an even more costly watch adorning his wrist. A silver