“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. It 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.