Some Things You Can't Control

14: Comfortable Silence

Chapter 14

Comfortable Silence

- EDEN GARCIA-

The inevitable happens at around 1am, when my phone starts obnoxiously blaring throughout Aiden's silent room.

Groaning, I blindly reach down onto the floor in search of the device, almost dropping it as I lift it to my face. The bright screen is too much for my tired eyes, which squint in protest so much that I don't read the caller ID.

"Mmm?"

"Ineeyoucompicmup." Its Kenzie's familiar voice, but her words are indecipherable.

"Come again?"

"I neeeeeed youtocome and pick me up." Music pumps loudly in the background, accompanied by the sounds of laughter and out-of-tune vocals.

There're three things I can conclude about my twin thus far into the conversation:

1. She needs a lift home.

2. She's drunk. Really drunk.

3. She's at a party.

"Where are you?" I mumble into the phone. Aiden's arm dejectedly drops from my waist as I sit up on the edge of his bed and bend over to slip my Converse back on. Its a struggle, but eventually I manage.

"The par-tay! I dunno why you're not here- it's fantastic!" She makes a weird noise, followed by a groan. "I don't feel too good."

"You're at Dylan's party?"

"Uh, maybe?"

"Alright, just stay there. I'll see you soon."

"Byyyyyee!"

Ending the call, and with it the sound of Kenzie's loud tone, comes as a relief.

"Everything okay?" Aiden's voice is husky from sleep, the unexpectedness of it causing my stomach to flip.

"Yeah," I respond softly, pushing myself up off the bed and shoving my keys and phone back into the pockets of my jeans. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep here."

"Eden, its fine," he assures me, "where're you heading?"

"Kenzie needs a lift from the party," is my short explanation. I shrug my jacket back on and pull my hair out from under it, adjusting the sleeves slightly.

"I'll come with you."

"No, its cool. Go back to sleep. I'm sorry about waking you up."

"I'm already awake now," he says nonchalantly. "You might need some help."

There's the quiet sound of rustling sheets. Moments later, a click follows, and soft light fills the room from Aiden's bedside lamp.

My eyes catch sight of his very toned and very shirtless torso as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up, slipping on the same shirt he had been wearing before. His hair sticks up messily, yet somehow still manages to look good.

Acting as though his lack of attire hadn't bothered me, I move toward his door as silently as I possibly can. I would hate to wake his parents or sister up this early in the morning.

Once he's slipped his shoes on, I quietly follow Aiden downstairs. He navigates his way through the limited light with eighteen years worth of experience under his belt.

When we reach the front door, he fiddles with the lock before the door swings open. Just as he goes to step through, he ruffles my hair with a smirk and comments, "Sexy bedhead." I roll my eyes and follow behind him, after which Aiden closes the door and we make it to my car.