Aria Roberts was turning out to be more trouble than I needed in my life. Yet I knew just then that I would not be able to rest peacefully until I knew for sure that no one else shared her attention. She was to be – for whatever duration she had signed up for – completely and utterly mine.
I didn’t care how that made me seem. I wanted what I wanted, and I always got what I wanted. If she didn’t stop talking to him, I’d have him shipped out of the state in no time. Money talks.
She would then hate me if she found out. I felt an uncomfortable knot in my chest. I didn’t want her to hate me. I would have to find a better tactic. What happened today could not be repeated. If I wanted to enjoy the remainder of these few months, it was in my best interest to learn to keep my emotions in check.
The trouble was, I had never before had trouble keeping my emotions in check, and I really did not know how.
Chapter Seven
Aria
“Not now, Stace!” I yelled from my room after Stacey’s 14th attempt to knock on my door.
“I come bearing cookies. With huge chocolate chunks. Don’t tell me your mouth isn’t watering smelling all the freshly baked goods.”
I sighed. She was right; Stacey knew me too well. The aroma of the cookies baking had definitely attracted my attention, but if I knew one thing about myself, it was to not allow binging on sugar while I was upset. It usually started with one cookie or just a spoonful of ice cream, and next thing I knew, I would be laying amidst a mountain of wrappers and empty tubs of ice cream. I was such a freaking stereotype sometimes. Since I literally had no time for the gym in my schedule between work and classes, this always ended up being a horrible idea.
“Thank you, but I honestly just need to continue stuffing my head in this pillow and ignoring humanity for a little bit longer.”
“What if I promise not to make you talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you?” Stacey offered patiently. “Though I assume it’s Zayden-related. You can talk to me when you’re ready, but don’t take it out on yummy sugary deliciousness.”
“How delicious?” I couldn’t help but ask. Stacey was a master baker, so it was a stupid question, in any case.
“Better than Halloween.”
I gasped and jumped to open the door. Damn it, Stacey.
“It can’t be better than Halloween. You had peaked. That’s physically impossible,” I said reaching for one giant cookie, while Stacey made herself comfortable in my bed.
One large bite and I was ready to collapse, all my troubles temporarily evaporating. The cookie seemed to be 90 percent chocolate and just the right amount of crunchy, with buttery sweetness and the tiniest hint of vanilla. I closed my eyes and ate the rest of the cookie in slow bites, savoring every aspect of the immaculate taste and texture. For a moment, I completely forgot why I had myself locked in my room for the last few days.
“Good?” Stacey was grinning at me, all prideful, when I opened my eyes.
“Horrible,” I said returning her grin. “Absolutely disgusting.”
I reached out for another one and devoured it. “Seriously, the worst cookies I’ve ever had.”
Stacey chuckled. “I’m glad you think so too. Now listen, I know you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you, and that’s fine. But you’ve been locked in here for days and that’s not healthy. Let’s do something. Outdoors.”
“Nah, I’m not feeling it,” I said automatically. “You go ahead though. Leave me the plate of horrible cookies, of course.”
“Aria. Come on. This isn’t good. You haven’t gone to work and you need the money! And you missed your Stats mid-term, didn’t you?”
No one was supposed to know about that. This was unusual for me; letting personal matters affect my academic performance. But I was in no mood to run into Zayden or Rick or deal with any of that bullshit.
“I told my professor I had diarrhea. He was all too glad to let me make it up.”
She raised her eyebrows suspiciously. “Does not sound like the Stats dude, at all.”
“You want to see the email?”
I wasn’t lying. Apparently the professor had recently suffered from food poisoning himself, and preferred staying away from anybody with stomach-related issues. My make-up test was next week.
“Fine. What about your other classes?”
“I have As in everything. They aren’t going to bust me for missing a class or two. I’m the best they have.”
“How do you manage to stay so modest?”