Aiden’s POV
The car ride was quiet—well, on
her
end, at least.
Alexia sat with her arms crossed, staring out the window like she was trying to pretend I didn’t exist. I found it amusing, especially since her lips were still slightly parted, and she kept pressing them together like she was trying to erase the memory of my kiss.
Cute.
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, stealing glances at her every few seconds. She was still flustered, her chest rising and falling just a bit faster than normal.
So she really didn’t expect that kiss.
Good.
Because I didn’t expect to do it either.
And yet, the moment I saw Sinclair watching her—watching
us
—I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Maybe it was petty. Maybe it was possessive.
But I
liked
seeing Alexia with my mark on her lips.
Even if she was mad at me for it.
To break the silence, I asked casually, "So... what were you doing with
him
?"
Her head snapped toward me. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." I kept my tone light, though I gripped the wheel a little tighter.
She narrowed her eyes. "Why do
you
care?"
I smirked. "I don’t."
"Liar."
I chuckled. "Fine. Maybe I do—just a little." I turned the car into a familiar drive-thru, already knowing what I was about to do. "And maybe I’m just curious why my
professor
wife was looking all flustered in front of another man."
Her face turned red. "First of all, I’m not
your
anything—"
"You sure about that?" I cut in smoothly, my gaze flickering to her lips again.
She clenched her jaw and looked away. "And second," she continued, ignoring my interruption, "it was
nothing
. He just wanted to talk about... school stuff."
I raised an eyebrow, watching as she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.
Liar.
Before I could call her out on it, we reached the order window.
"What do you want?" I asked.
She blinked at me, still caught off guard by the change in conversation. "Wait... you’re buying me food?"
I gave her a
look.
"What kind of monster do you think I am?"
She snorted. "Do you
really
want me to answer that?"
I grinned. "Careful, or I’ll take back your fries."
That shut her up.
I ordered her usual—because of course, I knew what she liked.
As we pulled up to the next window to get our food, I could feel her sneaking glances at me, like she was trying to figure me out.
Finally, as I handed her the bag, she spoke.
"So... you came to pick me up from school
and
you’re feeding me?" She raised an eyebrow. "What, are you trying to bribe me into not being mad at you?"
I smirked. "Is it working?"
She paused, then grudgingly took a fry. "Maybe."
I chuckled. "Thought so."
For the rest of the drive, she ate quietly, and I could tell the food was doing its magic because her mood had noticeably improved.
But I wasn’t done messing with her just yet.
As we neared her place, I casually said, "So... you never answered my question."
She frowned, mid-bite. "What question?"
I gave her a knowing look. "What were you and Sinclair really talking about?"
She nearly choked. "I
told
you—it was school stuff."
I hummed. "Right. School stuff."
She scowled at me. "Oh my god, Aiden, you are
impossible
."
I grinned. "And yet, here you are, eating the food I bought you."
She threw a fry at me.
I caught it effortlessly and popped it into my mouth.
Her jaw dropped. "Did you just—"
I smirked. "Delicious."
She groaned, muttering something under her breath, but I could see the way her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile.
I leaned back in my seat, satisfied.
Yeah.
She wasn’t mad anymore.
And for tonight, that was enough.
"Did you visit Liz today?" She suddenly asked.
I knew where this conversation was headed the moment Alexia brought up Liz.
It wasn’t like she
cared
—at least, that’s what she wanted to pretend. But I wasn’t stupid. The way she asked, the way her tone stayed neutral but her fingers slightly curled around the fast-food bag in her lap—it gave her away.
Still, I kept my face unreadable as I nodded. "Yeah, I saw her."
She barely reacted, just taking another fry before asking, "How is she?"
I studied her carefully, wondering what she was trying to get at. She didn’t
sound
interested, but she was
asking
, and that meant something.
"She’s fine," I replied, keeping my answer short.
There was a brief silence before she spoke again.
"So, today you’re
not
staying with her at the hospital?"
And there it was.
I exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see where this conversation would end.
Because I
knew
what she was really asking.
Yesterday, I told her I’d be home early. I made her think I was going to spend the evening with her. But instead, I stayed with Liz.
I didn’t regret it—Liz had been in bad shape. But now that she was stable, I didn’t have an excuse anymore.
And for some reason, I didn’t want Alexia to think I was
choosing
Liz over her.
"Yesterday, she was in critical condition," I said, twisting the truth just a little. "Now she’s better."
Alexia’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the way she relaxed slightly, her grip on the bag loosening.
She turned her gaze back out the window. "That’s good."
Silence settled between us again.
I wanted to ask
why
she cared. I wanted to ask if she was mad about last night, if she had waited for me even when she
knew
I wouldn’t come.
But I didn’t.
Because if she
had
waited, and if she
was
mad, then I’d have to admit that things between us were shifting.
And I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.
So instead, I pulled the car into her driveway, shutting off the engine.
She made no move to get out right away, just staring ahead.
I glanced at her, waiting.
Finally, she sighed. "Thanks for the ride."
I smirked. "And the food. Don’t forget that."
She rolled her eyes but grabbed the bag tighter, like she wasn’t about to give it back. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
I watched as she reached for the door handle, my chest tightening for reasons I didn’t want to analyze.
But before she could leave, I did something stupid.
I reached out, gently curling my fingers around her wrist.
She froze.
Slowly, she turned to look at me, her lips slightly parted in surprise.
"Alexia," I murmured.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "What?"
I had no idea what I wanted to say. I just... didn’t want her to leave yet.
But the words weren’t coming, and I could see her heart racing in the way her pulse jumped against her skin.
After a moment, I let go, forcing a smirk to cover up whatever the hell I was feeling.
I knew the moment we stepped out of the car and went inside, the tension would shift.
We’d go back to what we were—a husband and wife married for convenience. Pretending. Acting. Playing our roles.
And I didn’t want that.
Not right now.
Because in this car, with just the two of us, the air between us felt different. It wasn’t tangled up in rules or expectations. It was just
us
.
Alexia didn’t move right away. She sat there, gripping the bag of food, her nails digging into the paper slightly. Like she could feel it too.
Finally, she sighed and opened the door. "Let’s go."
I watched as she stepped out, my jaw clenching.
For a second, I considered just grabbing her wrist again, pulling her back down onto the seat, making her
stay
in this moment with me for a little longer.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of my neck as I got out of the car.
By the time I locked up and turned to follow her inside, she was already at the door, waiting. She didn’t look at me when I reached her side, but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was avoiding my gaze on purpose.
Without a word, I stepped past her, unlocking the door and pushing it open.
She walked in, slipping off her shoes before heading straight to the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter.
I watched her as she moved, pretending like everything was normal, like my mind hadn’t been on her all day.
Like I hadn’t kissed her at school just to piss off that
damn professor
.
She started unpacking the food, placing it on the table, still quiet.
Still pretending.
I hated it.
So I did something reckless.
I stepped behind her, close enough that I could feel the heat of her body against mine.
She stiffened immediately, but she didn’t move away.
Good.
Leaning down, I brushed my lips against the shell of her ear. "Are you mad at me?"
Her breath hitched slightly. "Why would I be?"
I smirked. "Because I kissed you in front of your
favorite
professor?"
She turned around so fast that I barely had time to step back before her glare was on me. "
Favorite
professor?" she repeated, scoffing. "You’re delusional."
I cocked a brow, leaning against the counter with my arms crossed. "Am I? Because the way you’ve been sneaking around lately makes me wonder."
Her jaw clenched. "I wasn’t
sneaking
."
"No?" I tilted my head. "So if I asked you what you were doing in his office tonight, you wouldn’t lie to me?"
She pressed her lips together, clearly biting back a response.
I grinned.
Gotcha.
"You really don’t like him, huh?" she asked after a beat.
I shrugged. "I don’t like the way he looks at you."
She rolled her eyes. "He’s my professor. That’s it."
I studied her carefully, trying to decide if she was telling the truth.
She wasn’t lying. But she
was
hiding something.
And I was going to figure out what.
For now, though, I let it go.
Because as much as I hated the idea of that man being anywhere near her, there was something more important happening here—something between
us
.
Something neither of us wanted to name yet.
So instead of pushing her, I reached for the bag of food and smirked.
"Come on," I said. "Eat before it gets cold."
She narrowed her eyes at me like she didn’t trust the sudden shift in my tone. But after a moment, she sighed and sat down.
And as we ate, I let myself pretend—just for tonight—that we were something more than what we were pretending to be.