~Joan~
“Are you avoiding me, kitten?” Aaron asked, leaning casually against the kitchen island while I focused on arranging the flowers in a vase.
I didn’t bother to respond. He doesn’t get to stroll in here, acting like everything is fine, like he hasn’t done anything wrong. Because he had, and he knew it.
I grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and took a long sip, more to buy time than to quench my thirst.
“That’s a question that requires an answer,” he said. His voice was calm, but I could feel the weight of his gaze as I placed the glass down on the counter.
His eyebrow lifted, his sharp eyes probing mine, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. He was smart enough to figure out I was ignoring him, so why was he pushing?
Turning my back on him, I tried to walk out of the kitchen, but his hand shot out, gripping my arm. Heat flared in my chest as I glanced down at his fingers pressing into my skin.
“You don’t walk away while I’m talking, Madison.” His voice had a chill to it now, controlled but icy.
I snapped my arm out of his grip, my glare sharp enough to cut.
“And I told you to stay the fuck away from me, Thompson. Or have you suddenly forgotten how to take a hint?”
He straightened, his height casting a faint shadow over me as he loomed closer. Was this his latest tactic? Using his size to intimidate me?
“I asked you a question,” he said again, his tone still maddeningly calm.
“And I decided not to give an answer,” I bit out, locking eyes with him. His face was infuriatingly blank, as if none of this was affecting him at all.
Spinning on my heel, I stormed out of the kitchen, hoping to leave him and my building anger behind. But his voice trailed after me.
“I should be glad you’ve been silent these past few days,” he called, his tone almost mocking. “But I know you too well. You’re scheming something.”
His words hit a nerve. Ofcourse, he’d assume the worst about me.
I clenched my fists and turned to face him, my expression cold but my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Oh no, is Aaron Thompson actually showing concern? Did the world stop spinning?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his eyes locked on mine, colder now.
“I don’t need you checking up on me,” I continued. “Go fuss over your girlfriend. I’m sure she needs it more than I do.”
“This is about Angelina,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost too calm.
My lip curled. “Make it about whatever you want. I don’t care.”
I brushed past him, but once again, he grabbed my arm, firmer this time. I spun back around, fury bubbling to the surface.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed, yanking at my arm, but his grip only tightened.
“What’s wrong, Thompson? She’s not here to insult me? Your pathetic little girlfriend isn’t here to defend you now?” I snapped, letting my anger spill out.
“What did she say to you?” His voice was low and cool, like he genuinely had no idea what I was talking about. The act was infuriating.
“Nothing,” I said, my voice trembling with anger. “Nothing except the garbage you told her about me.”
His brows furrowed for a moment, confusion flickering in his expression.
“What ‘garbage’?” he asked. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I took a step back, crossing my arms tightly across my chest as I shook my head.
“Don’t play dumb. Don’t act like you didn’t tell her I’m an orphan, that I’m disposable, that I don’t even have a real identity. What else did you tell her?”
For a brief second, his confusion seemed genuine, but I wasn’t falling for it.
“I never said anything like that to Angelina,” he said, his tone steady but his brows still drawn together.
“Sure you didn’t.” I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow even to my own ears. “You’re a great actor, Thompson. But stay away from me.”
I tried to walk away, but he stepped into my path, his presence solid and immovable.
“You don’t get to accuse me of something like that and then walk away,” he said, his voice sharp now, the calm veneer cracking. “Did Angelina say any of that to you?”
For the briefest of moments, I almost believed he cared, but I shoved the thought aside.
“Don’t try to act innocent,” I snapped, my voice rising. “We both know you’re not!”
He cursed under his breath, too quiet for me to catch the words, but I didn’t care. I was tired-tired of him, tired of this.
“I expected more from you,” I muttered. “But maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should’ve known you’d use everything you know about me to tear me down.”
His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening.
“I told her nothing,” he said, his voice low but forceful. “We haven’t even talked about you.”
I huffed, shaking my head. “I don’t care, okay? I really don’t.”
We both fell silent, staring at each other for the next few seconds.
I took a step back, but before I could move further, he closed the distance between us in one swift motion.
His hand tangled in my hair, and I froze as his gaze bored into mine.
There was heat there now, and anger, and something else I couldn’t name.
And then his lips were on mine, hard and urgent, stealing the breath from my lungs.
Oh boy.