The Author and Her Bodyguard

Chapter 25

Have you ever had an out-of-body experience where you look down at a moment like you are watching a movie? You see yourself, sitting there, unmoving and you want to scream at yourself to say something. To do something that will snap you out of the fog. 

I sat next to Aiden, stunned into silence. Fake date Aiden?  Aiden shifted, turning to look at me. But I still wasn't in my body. I was gone, in a place of panic, driven by theme music to the song,  Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. A circus of hilarity and short-circuiting emotions filled my mind. 

"Summers?" Aiden said, shattering my mind circus. 

"Hmm?" I startled blinking up at him as I reentered my body. 

His blue eyes stared at me, with indiscernible expression. "You okay?"

No. No, I'm not. "Yeah. Fine," I lied poorly, hearing the words belly flop out of my mouth, earning me a zero out of ten on the ability to fib scale.

Aiden leaned back, taking me in on the small love seat we shared. "It's okay to not be okay."

"I need to pack," I replied scrambling to my feet. "I completely forgot I have a flight today." I waved my arms around as I spun, looking for the empty coffee mugs. My fingers itched to be productive. Desperate for something to focus on other than the attractive guy wanting to talk to me about the fake relationship possibilities. 

I didn't want to know what his thoughts about it were. I wanted to pretend that I was normal. That I could have normal things. And not that I had to have a piece of paper to even get a handsome guy like that to go out with me. I didn't want something fake. 

Plucking up the coffee mugs, I moved to the kitchen in a whirlwind of nervous energy. "And I have to wash these... and I have to check the weather in Canada to figure out what to wear..." I began to scrub the coffee mugs furiously. "Will it be cold... hot... I don't know. How many scarves do I pack? And most importantly... how many books do I bring? I always bring more than I have time to read but what if I don't bring enough?" I was a bundle of nerves and words and couldn't see myself stopping. 

A set of hands came into view, pulling the teal green mug I was scrubbing out of my hands. "You are gonna break it," Aiden said from behind me, his arms on either side of mine as he took hold of the mug. 

"It's not as fragile as you think it is," I muttered taking the mug back. 

"Summers—"

"Dalton," I countered, clearly no longer capable of handling anything on a mature level. 

"Just turn around," Aiden replied still close. 

I put the mug down and turned around, finding myself trapped in between Aiden and the kitchen sink. His arms caging me in as his hands sat on either side of me, against the sink. "Talk to me Summers."

I ignored the wonderful smell of citrus and musky earth that wafted off of Aiden, the warmth that radiated off of him like my own personal heater, how fantastically and terrifyingly close he stood. "I don't want to talk," I answered staring at the ground. 

"Why?" He asked, his tone gentle. 

I sighed and wiped my sud-covered hands on my sweatpants. "Because..." I'm afraid. 

When I couldn't add any more words to my eloquent sentence, Aiden jumped in. "Why don't I start." He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm sorry." 

My head shot up, confused. "What? Why?"

"If I hadn't sat down... If I had just whisked you out of the restaurant like Tate thought we should do... we wouldn't be in this mess." He sighed, looking tired.