Then, without warning, his hand came toward her face and she sat frozen in confusion as he brushed her hair back behind her ears.
"You're not wearing your earrings," he remarked.
"No," she verified. Then, tentatively, she added, "I knew you wouldn't…like if I did."
His lips curved up just slightly. "Why do you care what I like?"
There was something in the way he was looking at her that made her not want to meet his gaze, but also unable to look away. She was afraid once she broke eye contact it would go away forever—that softness she was so unaccustomed to.
In her lap, she could hear the chime of her phone, but she ignored it, still not looking away from Aaron.
"You aren't answering me," he said, a playful glint in his warm brown eyes.
"I don't know why," she admitted quietly.
His gaze did drop to her purse then, and he nodded slightly, asking, "Who was that?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly.
He glanced at her phone before meeting her gaze again. She was sure she saw a challenging glint in his eyes. "May I?" he asked.
Careful to keep the surprise off her face, she knew she had every right to tell him no, he absolutely may not, but she felt like he was trying to prove something—he expected her to say no, but part of him was pulling for her to say yes.
She didn't know how she knew that, but it was like she could read it in his eyes.
Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her purse and pulled it out, holding it out on her palm.
He held eye contact, raising his eyebrow just slightly as he slowly reached for the phone, giving her plenty of time to change her mind.
She stayed where she was, and despite the urge to look at the phone to see who the text was from, she patiently waited for him to take it.
Finally, he took the phone and said, "I'm going to see who it's from," as if he still half-expected her to back out and take the phone back.
Shrugging, she forced herself to seem nonchalant. "I can't help who texts me."
He opened her phone and held her gaze for just a second longer, then he dropped his gaze to the phone and he pushed a couple buttons, opening up the text message.
A smirk slowly spread across his face. "It's from the other brother."
Swallowing, she forced herself to give the impression of casual as she said, "Oh yeah?"
"You're dying to know what he said, aren't you?"
She was curious, but she sure as hell wasn't going to admit it. "Not really."
He raised his eyebrows, and she could tell he didn't buy it. "Oh, really?"
"Really," she said, nodding.
"You don't care at all?"
"Not unless it's… important, or about the baby or something, no."
His smirk returned, and he said, "Then you won't mind if I just delete it?"
Inwardly she had to fight the nearly rabid instinct to snatch her phone out of his hand, but she knew she was being tested—and she didn't want to fail.
Did she want to pass the test more than she wanted to read the text message?