“I don’t know,” I continued, enjoying myself far too much. “If it’s not that, then—oh! Is it unrequited love then? It is, isn’t it?” I brought my hands together in front of my chest. “It’s gotta be someone unaware of your longing puppy eyes. No, wait. I don’t think you are capable of pulling off puppy eyes.” I tilted my head, something occurring to me. “You know that you can’t go around, giving women the cold eye if you are interested in them, right? I know puppy eyes was going a bit too far for you, but if there is someone out there who awakens that stone cold heart of yours—”
“No,” he fired back, cutting me off. “You are not here for any of that.” He inhaled deeply, his chest rising. Then, he puffed out the air. “I don’t like to play games, Catalina.”
My hands dropped to my lap. “This particular game or … games in general?” I paused, wondering where his reaction had come from. “Or are we talking about sexy games? Like seduction games?”
My lips snapped shut as soon as I heard my own words.
I couldn’t believe I had said that. To Aaron.
Neither could he, apparently, because he let out a … noise that I had the impression was supposed to be a laugh. Although it couldn’t have possibly been that, sounding closer to … something strangled.
“You …” His head swiveled with disconcertment. “Jesus, Catalina.”
Forehead wrinkling, I opened my mouth to say something, but Aaron spoke first, “If I end things with a woman, I end them.” His voice went at least an octave down, a rumble in the confined space between us. “And if I am interested in someone, I make myself heard. I will find a way for her to know. Sooner or later, she’ll know.” Aaron didn’t look at me, not once. He just spoke with his gaze on the road ahead of us. “I wouldn’t use you, or anyone else, for something like that. As you said back in your apartment, I’m a big boy.”
I felt a wave of warmth climb all the way up to my face. Flushed. I was flushed, and my makeup was probably not doing anything to hide the dark shade of red spreading through my cheeks. I looked away. “Oh, okay.” I fought the urge to touch my face, check if the blush was heating my skin too. “I see.”
I wasn’t seeing a single thing. And frankly, I didn’t understand why his words were making me feel this way either. Or more importantly, why he had asked for my help if he didn’t play games and was a big boy.
But where this man was concerned, I hadn’t seemed to be understanding much lately. Especially when my body had decided to stop cooperating and was acting up in all these stupid ways that turned my skin warm and flushed.
I stared through the window, watching the city lights flick away as we drove. “You said you would tell me everything if I accepted to do this.” I swallowed, not wanting to sound like I cared as much as I did. “If we … did this thing for each other.”
“You are right,” he said, not adding anything else for a long moment, in which I didn’t turn to look at him. “I used to play football in college,” he admitted, catching me completely by surprise.
Very slowly, I gripped the strap of my seat belt while I tried to muffle down the holy shit that had traveled all the way to the tip of my tongue.
Okay, so that wasn’t an explanation. It wasn’t the answer I had expected. But it was the first thing I had ever heard of him that wasn’t work-related. In almost two years. So, if my ears were not deceiving me, Aaron had just opened up—for the first time ever. Because I’d count it as that. Just a tiny little bit, fine, but it was a crack on that hard exterior all the same. And all of a sudden, I wanted to swing a hammer and pummel my way to the other side.
“Football? The one with the helmets and the melon-like ball?” I asked instead, keeping my voice as flat as possible.
I wasn’t a sports doofus, but I was European. I needed to be sure we were talking about the same sport.
“Yes, not soccer. The one with the melon.” He nodded. “I played back home in Seattle, where I went to college.”
“Seattle,” I repeated, chewing on this new piece of information he had given me. More. I wanted just a little more. “That’s Washington up north, right? I know because of Twilight. Forks is supposed to be a few hours away.” I kind of regretted mentioning Twilight, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and besides the few places I had visited, my knowledge on American geography was based on books and movies.
“That’s the one,” he said, his shoulders relaxing down. Just an inch. Which in Aaron’s language meant green light for more questions.
“So, this thing we are going to tonight, does it have to do with your football days then?”
Aaron nodded. “I’m still invited to some events. Because I played, but mostly because of my family’s involvement in the NCAA,” he explained, driving us along one of the wide avenues in Manhattan. “Once a year, a charity event for an association of animal welfare is hosted here in New York, and a number of personalities attend.”
“Are you one of those personalities?” I’d have to Google what the NCAA was later, but I had a feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me. “Oh my God, Aaron Blackford, are you telling me you come from, like, a long line of football royals?”
Aaron’s brows knit. “Catalina.”
In pure Aaron fashion, that was all the answer I got.
“Will your family be there tonight then?”
“No,” he said, his profile hardening for a heartbeat and confirming my suspicions.
I guessed I’d have to Google that too.
“Tonight’s event is for raising money that will eventually go to shelter, rehabilitate, and find homes for rescued animals in New York. I attend whenever I’m able to. It’s good to see a few people I’ve known for most of my life, and it’s for a cause I care about.”
I immediately forgot about whatever it was that he wasn’t telling me about his family. Aaron cared about the welfare of animals? About rescuing them and finding them new homes?
Right on cue, something fuzzy and warm tingled in my chest. And the feeling got only worse when I found myself picturing Aaron holding a bunch of cute puppies that he cared about and raised money for in his bulky arms. As he knelt on a field. In his football gear. Tight pants. Shoulders that went for miles. Dirt smudged on his cheeks.
That warmth turned a little thicker and harder to ignore.
“That’s … great,” I said, trying to kick those images out of my head. “Really nice of you.”
Aaron’s gaze turned to me, and one of his eyebrows went up. He was probably weirded out by how hard I was blushing.
Why can’t I stop blushing?
“Do you always bring a fake date to this event?” I blurted out without thinking.
“No.” Aaron’s lips pressed in a flat line. “I’ve always attended alone. This is the first time I’m bringing a date.”
A date.
A date?
My eyebrows wrinkled. A fake date, not a date.
I was about to correct him, but he spoke first, “We are almost there.”
I remained in silence as I processed everything I had just learned. This new depth of Aaron I had discovered. A little peek through that crack he had revealed to me. And all those dangerous mental images I had acquired, which, much to my dismay, would stick with me for a long time. That was something that needed some processing too.
“Wait,” I let out as he made a turn to the right. “You didn’t tell me what’s being auctioned. Or why I’m here.”
The vehicle came to a slow stop in front of one of the numerous skyscrapers on Park Avenue. Looking over, I spotted a parking valet waiting on the sidewalk.
Eyes wide, I turned to Aaron. A freaking valet? Shit.
His blue gaze settled on me one last time, and I swore there was something wolfish, something a little wild, about them.
“Me.” He tilted his head, holding my gaze. “That’s what’s being auctioned.” His voice matched the quality of his eyes, making a shiver trail down my arms. “And that’s what you’ll be bidding on tonight, Catalina. Me.”
Eyes even wider and jaw probably lying somewhere around my high heels, I blinked and watched Aaron throw the driver’s door open. He walked around the car as I—unsuccessfully—tried to gather my wits. He gestured to the valet not to open my door.
Aaron did.
The humid summer breeze grazed my arms and legs as this blue-eyed man, who I was starting to understand I knew little about, offered his hand.
“Miss Martín, if you please.”
I blinked at him for a long moment. My whole body numb with … things I failed to pin down and identify.
One of the corners of his lips bent with the start of a smirk; he was clearly enjoying how discombobulated I was. How scattered I must appear. God, he looked as amused as I had ever seen him.
“Today better than tomorrow, Catalina.”
That comment was so Aaron, so like the Aaron I knew and was familiar and comfortable with—the one who was curt and demanding, not the one who was taking me to a fundraiser so I could bid on him in an auction—that my hand shot to his, being immediately engulfed in his much larger one.
He helped me out of the car, the long skirt of my gown that wasn’t really a gown cascading down my legs. Aaron let my hand drop all too quickly, leaving my palm warm from his touch. Then, he held the massive and sumptuous door of the Park Avenue skyscraper open for me.
I took one step forward, trying to keep the hammering in my chest under control.
All right.
My other foot moved in front of me.
So, I’d be fake-bidding for my fake date tonight. For my soon-to-be fake boyfriend if our deal was still up after tonight.
No big deal, right?