I wonder what he's referring to — troubles with other band members, practices, surely not the groupies? — but before I can ask, he continues.
“I plan to have my own business. Then I can be in charge. What about you? Biochemist? Chemical engineer? Nuclear scientist?”
“You must be extremely confident in your tutoring abilities.”
Aidan gives me a full smile that warms me from head to toe. “Sure, I think I can have you inventing new compounds in a week or two.”
We keep walking, the grass soft under our feet. “So what else are you taking besides chemistry?”
“I’m a double major — finance and marketing,” I explain, “so I’ve got intro to accounting, macroeconomics, oral communications, and sociology. I want to get my general studies out of the way as fast as I can.”
“I did the same,” Aidan says. “Some of those GE classes were really good, but I was ready to get on to what I came for.”
It’s a mild day, the sunlight just enough to make me comfortably warm, with a slight breeze to take the edge off. “I’m a little surprised you’re not a music major,” I say.
Aidan lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Like I said, I love singing, writing songs, jamming with the guys … but being in a band is more than that. You spend a lot of time dealing with other people’s expectations.”
I can’t help but think of groupies again, but Aidan’s not sounding at all like a player today. Have I sold him short with the sexy manwhore label? Scratch that; the sexy part definitely applies. But he does seem to have a serious side I hadn’t given him credit for.
We’re most of the way across campus now, and he’s been getting nonstop attention from every girl we pass. Maybe a lot of them recognize him from Throwback, but I have no doubt that he draws attention for his looks alone. More than a few of them send me less-than-friendly glances, too.
Before we’re off campus, a very bouncy blonde suddenly blocks Aidan’s path. “Hey, Aidan,” she trills, looking at him like he’s a hot fudge sundae and she’s about to dig in.
“Hey,” he says. “How are you?”
“I’m great! I saw your show last week. You were so good.” She sticks out her sizeable chest and plays with her hair while pretending she can’t even see me.
“That’s great. Thanks,” Aidan says, giving her a friendly smile.
“I’ll be at your show this weekend. Maybe I’ll see you after?”
“Sounds good. Maybe I’ll see you there.” Aidan gives her a wave and we start walking again.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s been with her. Maybe he picked her up at one of his shows like he did me.
He doesn’t mention the girl or say anything about all the attention he receives. He’s probably so used it that he doesn’t even consider the impact it might have on me.
Only one block later, before I can even get the blonde girl out of my head, a beautiful dark-haired girl, who looks a million times cooler than I have ever felt in my life, approaches us from the opposite direction. She slows her pace as she gets closer and focuses intently on Aidan, pulling her attention away only briefly to give me an assessing look.
I’m in jeans and a t-shirt, while she looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine with just the right clothes and perfectly styled hair. I feel like I literally shrink in her presence.
When we reach her, she greets Aidan with a hug before shooting another glance in my direction. “Who’s this?” she asks him.
“This is Amber. Amber, Sasha.” Aidan’s tone is friendly and neutral, and gives me no clue about who Sasha is to him.
Sasha’s hand has found its way to Aidan’s arm. She gives me the briefest of nods before turning all of her attention on him. “Do you know when we’re supposed to get our cap-and-gown shipments in? My parents want me to have a senior portrait taken.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here the day after we’re supposed to walk,” Aidan says.
She laughs and play-punches him in the arm. “No, really.”
“I think they said next week. Or maybe it was later this week. Hang on.” Aidan pulls out his phone, both of them acting like I’m not even there, and looks it up. “Yeah, they’ll be here by Friday.”
“Great. Thanks.” She touches his arm again, and it feels like she’s claiming him. “See you later.” She glances at me again as she walks away.
We continue on our way and after a few steps, Aidan says, “So, finance and marketing — that sounds like a good combination.”
With no further mention of Sasha, he just picks up with our conversation where we left off, but I’m distracted. I know I have no claim to him, but I find myself hoping that he’ll tell me the attention from these women doesn’t mean anything. Though I’m not sure I’d believe him anyway.
This little stroll across campus has forcefully reminded me that he’s the guy every girl wants — and that the reverse is definitely not true. I have never been the girl every guy wants.
Instead, I’ve always been the hardworking, slightly nerdy girl the popular guys ignore. I’m the virgin who puts schoolwork before activities that other girls consider fun. So whatever flirtation’s been going on with Aidan, I shouldn’t forget that we’re not equals in it. He can have anyone he wants — why the hell would he want me?
Chapter 16
Amber
Aidan’s house is in the middle of a quiet residential street. It’s single story with a neatly trimmed lawn; a very nice but average house. What had I been expecting? The Playboy mansion where he would entertain his groupies?
As we enter I’m struck by how spare the furnishings are. The walls are mostly bare; there are no plants or pictures around.
“Just you and your dad live here?” I ask.
“Yeah, my parents are divorced. My mom lives on the other side of the country.”
There’s an edge to his voice, and I decide it’s probably best not to ask more about the subject.
Aidan leads me past the living room and into a small dining room area, where we settle in to study. I’m feeling a pull between us, a not unpleasant feeling of sexual tension, now that we’re alone in close quarters.
We're sitting close together, the house is quiet ... I imagine him kissing me and curse myself for how much I'm wanting that to happen right now.
As much as I've tried to listen to the sensible part of my brain, I've been drawn in, and as I sneak glances at Aidan's strong, tattooed forearm resting close to mine, I realize I couldn't care less about my chemistry grade right now.
For better or worse, though, he is all business.
"Did you have class yet?" he asks, his chocolate brown eyes fixed on me.
God, why does he have to be so good looking?
"No, it's tomorrow evening."
"All right. Where did we leave off?"
We left off with you pushing me up against the wall, I think, but I dutifully find our place.
“Okay, let me see you balance this one,” Aidan says, pointing to an equation with oxygen, hydrogen, and I don’t know what else in it.
I remember to start by looking for the unbalanced elements first, and I make the needed adjustments, but then I get stuck. I might actually be able to do this one if I was alone, but I keep being distracted by how close Aidan is sitting.
“What’s next?” he asks. “The hydrogen, right?” He’s patient as I eventually manage to finish the problem and move on to the next one.
“Don’t forget the physical states,” he prompts.
I’m trying very hard to forget his physical state — hot — and my physical state — bothered, but I’m finding it impossible. He’s referring to solids and gases though, so I go back and make the required notations.
I make a few errors and Aidan puts his hand on mine, nearly making me jump from the way his touch lights up my nerve endings.
"Relax, Amber. You'll get it." He thinks it's the subject matter that has me tense, and I'm happy to let him believe that. I was the one who said our study
sessions needed to be all business, after all.
He tilts his head adorably and smiles at me.
"Hey, did you hear the one about a proton and a neutron walking down the street?"
I shake my head.