Once Upon A New Year's Eve (Meet Cute Romance Book 2) Page 2

  Thank God.

  Aaron watched him go, shoulders rigid until the other man went inside. Then he turned to her, eyes still hot. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

  She could see the temper warring on his face, waited for the confrontation about why she didn’t want his help. Instead he said, “Rick’s out cold. You’ll never get him in the house on your own. I’m following you home.”

  Gemma opened her mouth but he interrupted before she could speak.

  “Don’t argue with me, Gemma. At least you know I won’t try to molest you.”

  It made her feel small and petty. She hunched her shoulders defensively. “I wasn’t going to argue. I was going to say thank you.”

  Aaron relaxed a bit. “Okay then. I’m parked on the drive. I’ll follow you out.”

  ~*~

  Aaron’s temper was at a steady boil by the time they made it back to Rick’s place. He managed to keep a lid on it as they hauled Rick’s dead weight out of the truck and into the house. Rick was already snoring by the time they poured him into bed.

  Gemma tugged off his shoes. “Do you think it’s safe to leave him? He’s not so drunk he’s going to have alcohol poisoning or something, right?”

  “I saw him do that once in college, after Becky Winthrop dumped him. I don’t think he’s that far gone now,” said Aaron.

  “In that case, I hope he has the hangover from Hell tomorrow for putting me through this.” With one last look of concern and irritation, she walked out of the bedroom.

  Aaron held his tongue until they made it into the living room. “Now, how about you tell me what the hell is the matter with you?” he demanded.

  Gemma stiffened and swung toward him from the cabinet Rick used as a bar, abandoning the bottle of wine she’d started to open. Her eyes had gone to slits. “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve always thought you were one of the smartest women I’ve ever met. And tonight you were just being bone stupid. That asshole could’ve—” Aaron cut himself off, too easily able to see Jason caging her against the truck. “He could have hurt you. What would you have done if I hadn’t been there?”

  “I find a knee to the balls and a spiked heel to the instep to be pretty effective. Something you’ll find out for yourself in short order if you don’t back off right now.”

  Aaron realized he’d crowded into her space and stepped back immediately, hands lifted in truce. Unable to stay still, he started to pace. “I know you’d never have been in a place like that if Rick hadn’t been a damned moron, and I’ll take him to task for that when he’s sober. But you.” He looked at her standing there in her New Year’s Eve finery and shook his head. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I needed a hand getting Rick into the truck. Jason offered.”

  “So did I. And you know me, so exactly why was that redneck Neanderthal the preferable alternative?”

  Gemma crossed her arms and paced to the window. “I didn’t need your help. I’m not my brother’s keeper and you aren’t mine.”

  Where was this fury coming from? Baffled, Aaron scooped a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong, Gemma?”

  “You mean apart from the fact that my idiot brother decided to get so wasted I had to abandon my date at Chez Philippe midway through the entree in order to come rescue him, thus destroying any possibility that Victor will ever call me again?”

  What the hell kind of name is Victor? Aaron wondered.

  “This isn’t about your date. I’ve never in my life known you to be foolish or rude. And you’ve been both tonight in the name of avoiding me.”

  “You don’t know me, Aaron,” Gemma spat. But she flinched and with it some of that icy reserve cracked. “I’m not avoiding you.”

  Aaron just looked at her, lifting a brow.

  “Avoiding you makes it sound like we were in the same orbit to begin with. I haven’t seen you in ten years, and there was absolutely no reason to think I ever would again.”

  “Rick’s one of my best friends. Why wouldn’t we have run into each other eventually?”

  “Because I learned my lesson about hanging out with my brother’s friends,” she muttered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Look, I’ve had a craptastic night. I’m very sorry for being rude. There was no cause for that. I’m pissed off and you were the most readily available target. I thank you for your help with my brother. Now I’m sure you had your own New Year’s plans that he interrupted, so you’re welcome to go on back to them.”

  She didn’t look at him during that little speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the girl he remembered, he felt compelled to push.

  “Why do I get the feeling that there’s something else going on here apart from the fact that Rick screwed up your date?”

  Gemma took a bracing breath and let it out slow. “I didn’t expect…this.”

  “Didn’t expect what?”

  She waved an impatient hand in his general direction. “You.”

  What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  He took a step toward Gemma and watched her neatly sidestep him, reaching reflexively for the wine bottle and corkscrew to occupy her hands. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes. His gaze skimmed down to the hollow of her throat, where he noted her pulse fluttering madly. The realization hit him like a Mack truck.

  “You’re nervous,” he said in wonder. “I make you nervous.” Temper faded as he fought the smile that tugged as his lips.

  She gave an irritated snort that he took as confirmation and neatly ripped off the foil covering the cork.

  “You never used to be nervous around me.”

  A burst of self-deprecatory laughter escaped her. “Oh God, if you believe that, then I deserved an Oscar back then.”

  “What? Really?” He mentally replayed his memories of her, searching for signs of nerves.

  She lifted the bottle, one hand on the embedded corkscrew, and held it like some kind of shield as she turned to face him, eyes fixed somewhere in the vicinity of his left shoulder. “You used to terrify me.”

  Used to? Aaron wondered. “I knew you had a little crush. It was sweet.”

  Gemma turned those winter gray eyes on him then and stared. “Sweet,” she repeated, a world of insult vibrating in that one word.

  Okay, there’s a sensitive spot, he thought. “Is that what this is about? What happened that summer?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She set down the wine, unopened, and turned to stare fixedly out the window.

  “I think we should talk about it. Clear the air. I don’t want things to be weird between us, Gemma.”

  “What does it matter if things are weird between us?”

  “Because we used to be friends.”

  She snorted again.

  “Well, sort of,” he amended. “Look, there’s no reason to let that amazing outfit of yours go to waste. Let’s go out, see what we can salvage of the night. Let me buy you some dinner, a drink, and let’s deal with…whatever this is. Please.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine. I might as well complete my mortification by talking about it and actually exorcising this demon.”

  “Look at it this way, if it doesn’t work, you can go back to avoiding me.”

  Gemma cocked her head and flashed a glimmer of a smile. “There is that. Let me get my coat.”

  ~*~

  The place was a joint in the best sense of the word. Somewhere in Midtown, it was hidden and small, with no discernible name on the outside of the old, painted brick building. The interior was packed to the gills with patrons enjoying a wide variety of Memphis cuisine along with the live music pumping hot and moody from the tiny stage. The hostess led them to a high top table, where they ended up jammed elbow to elbow so that they could hear each other speak. That didn’t do a damn thing for Gemma’s nerves. She looked on the upcoming conversation like a root canal. Painf
ul and necessary, and hopefully an experience never to be repeated. She was still cursing herself for being so affected by him. In all the daydreams she’d had about seeing him again, not a single one included her being anything other than cool, calm, and collected, showing him in every possible way what he’d missed out on. None of them included him cluing in to her discomfort and cornering her into talking about it.

  To put the discussion off, she peered at the menu and asked, “What’s good here?”

  “Everything. They’re particularly famous for their ribs.”

  Gemma looked down at her white blouse. “I think no. What else?”

  “Catfish. Burgers. And a seriously heart-stopping sausage po’boy.”

  As the least drippy option listed, she went with the catfish, blackened, and added a glass of Chardonnay. Aaron picked the po’boy and a beer.

  She waited until the waitress returned with their drinks to speak again. Because of the music, she had to lean into his space, close enough to see the dark flecks in his blue eyes. “The music is great!”

  “This group is a particular favorite of mine. Old school covers. They favor Howlin’ Wolf, John Lee Hooker, and, of course, B.B. And they mix it up a bit with original stuff too. You a blues fan?”

  “I don’t know it well, but I like it.” Gemma took a breath and braced herself. “Look, I want to apologize again for being bitchy earlier. You were trying to help, and it was rude of me to take out my frustration on you.”

  “Is that your way of trying to welch on our discussion?”

  “No. It just bears saying. I can admit when I’ve behaved badly.”

  Aaron smiled at that and her pulse gave a hard stutter. “There’s the direct and forthright girl I remember.”

  She grimaced. “That’s gotten me into more trouble over the years.”

  “I appreciate a woman who says what she means. Takes the complication and guesswork out of things. You never played games.”

  “I suck at it. And I’m not going to start now. I promised we could talk about that summer and clear the air.” Because I’ve lost my mind.

  “Maybe I should start,” he said.

  “No. No, this is on me. I need to get it out before I lose my nerve.” She took a bracing swallow of wine, winced a little at the burn. “I guess for this to make sense, I have to give you some context. You didn’t know me outside of what you saw at the lake.”

  “You didn’t strike me as the kind of girl who tried on personalities like outfits.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I’m not. But people are different in different settings. I was easier at the lake. More comfortable and free to be myself. Back home, in school, well, that was a whole other story. High school was hell for me. I mean, sure, it was fine academically. I excelled at that. You already know I come from a bright family, and I didn’t fall far from the tree. But everything that made me a success as a student made me a freak to most of my peers.”

  “You were not a freak.”

  His ready defense made her smile a little. “High school boys thought I was. I was smart and didn’t see the need to hide it. I wasn’t properly demure and self-effacing like other girls. So they were afraid of me.”

  “The ego of a teenage boy is a fragile thing. I can see how you might’ve intimidated them a bit.”

  Gemma shrugged, sipped at her wine. “Teenage girls aren’t any better. Anyway, on the heels of the latest rejection on that front, I went to the lake that summer, and Rick brought you. You were different.”

  She stroked a thumb along the stem of her wineglass and thought back to the first time she’d seen Aaron. It’d been like looking on Apollo with that smile. He’d dazzled her. He could still dazzle her.

  “I was older.”

  “Yeah.” Gemma nodded in acknowledgment. “Yeah, you were. I guess that was the point at which I really understood exactly how true that whole thing is about girls maturing faster than boys. Being around you was so refreshing. You didn’t look at me like I had a second head when I expressed an opinion. You listened and respected what I said. A lot of other guys would’ve automatically relegated me into annoying kid sister status, but you didn’t.”

  “You didn’t act like a kid, and I’m pretty sure that big brain of yours had a good ten years on the rest of us. That was only annoying the fifth or sixth time you whipped my ass at Trivial Pursuit.”

  She chuckled. “You were easy prey. Everybody else in the family knew never to play me at trivia games.”

  “I enjoyed your company.”

  “I know. It showed. I guess under the circumstances, it was inevitable that I’d fall for you.” Gemma couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see any expression of pity or discomfort. But she’d push through the rest of it. “I was turning sixteen in August and I didn’t want to be a cliche, so I decided to do something about it.”

  “Midnight Twister,” he murmured.

  So he did remember. Eyes on her wine, she continued, “I knew Rick would bail on it. He sucks at Twister and gets mad because all my gymnastics training meant I was more flexible than him. It was an effective tactic for getting you into close quarters. It took every shred of courage I had to try to kiss you, and as soon as you clued in, you couldn’t get away fast enough. It was absolutely humiliating. Though this particular moment is climbing the rankings on that score,” she admitted. She took another gulp of wine and wished it would work faster. “I felt like a complete idiot. So much so, that I left so I wouldn’t have to face you again.” And boy it had taken some fast talking to her mom to manage that in under twenty-four hours.

  “Gemma.” Sympathy in his tone. Pity, probably. God, she didn’t want his pity. Not then and, certainly, not now

  She shrugged, determined to play it down. “It wasn’t a big deal in the long run. I grew up, went to college where my brain was actually considered an asset. But seeing you again makes me feel…fifteen and stupid again. So you’ll have to forgive me for being awkward and kind of rude about this.”

  ~*~

  “I’m sorry.” What else could he say but that? In his own rush for self-preservation, he’d hurt her.

  Color rode high in Gemma’s cheeks and she refused to look at him. He had to fix this.

  “I wish you’d stayed.” Aaron laid a hand over hers, felt her fingers jump.

  Her eyes cut to their linked hands before looking away again. “Why?”

  “So I could’ve at least explained.”

  “You didn’t owe me an explanation. It was obvious enough.”

  He’d thought it was, but if she’d spent all these years blaming herself, maybe she hadn’t actually noticed. “It wasn’t you. At least not for the reasons you think.” If she bared her embarrassment, he could bare his.

  “What? Did you have a girlfriend you’d neglected to mention?” she scoffed.

  “No. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to remember who you were?”

  Now she did look at him, brow furrowed. “Who I was?”

  “Your family invited me out to your cabin. You were Rick’s little sister. I was not supposed to notice you beyond that. But you were smart and funny and had these legs that should’ve been illegal.”

  He’d wanted that direct gaze again, and he had it. “You noticed my legs?”

  “Hard not to. I’ve got eyes in my head, don’t I?”

  “They’re just legs. You stand on them.”

  “Trust me when I tell you, they’re not just legs. Which is neither here nor there, because I shouldn’t have noticed them, shouldn’t have thought about them or you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because no matter how mature you were, you were fifteen. I was twenty. Way too old for you. If Rick had known what went through my head when I looked at you, he’d have been duty-bound to kick my ass. And he’d have been absolutely right to do it.”

  Gemma stared at him, as if she couldn’t quite process what he’d said. “You…actually liked me?”

  Like. Such a pale, innocent sort of word. I
t felt less damning than the alternatives.

  “Yes, I liked you.”

  “Then why…”

  “That game of Twister got us in close quarters, exactly as you intended.” He’d ended up pinned beneath her. “You started to kiss me and I had a…very…human response.”

  “Running away was a human response?”

  “Gemma,” he said, exasperated, “you’re a smart woman. I find you incredibly attractive. My very human response to that was why I essentially ran away.” And if she didn’t stop looking at him like that, he was going to have another. Shifting in his chair, Aaron took a swig of his beer to wet his dry mouth.

  He saw the moment she caught on. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Oh.” A faint flush of color bloomed across her cheeks.

  “It was completely and totally inappropriate, and I was embarrassed. So I jumped ship. It was never about you doing anything wrong.”

  “Well,” she said after a pause, “that’s…illuminating.”

  God. He actually felt the embarrassment crawling up his neck and twitched his shoulders as if he could shrug it off. “When I found out you were gone, I thought you left because you were…freaked out or thought I was trying something. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage.”

  The look she shot him was full of more insult. “I was fifteen, not a child. Perfectly capable of saying no. Or yes, for that matter.”

  “I couldn’t afford to even think about you saying yes. You were jailbait. Smart, funny, attractive jailbait. You can let that insult you all you want, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

  Gemma studied him over the rim of her glass. “Probably good you didn’t say that back then. Everybody treated me as an adult from so early on, that would’ve just pissed me off to no end. I wanted to be taken seriously.”

  “Acting adult and being adult are two different things. And believe me, I took that damned seriously.”

  After a long silence, she nodded, “Fair enough.”

  Aaron considered them even on the mortification scale for the night. He lifted his beer. “To our mutual embarrassment. May we now be able to get past it.”