"Well," Aiden leaned back in his seat and nodded as he glanced down at his plate. "That was good. Really good. You can cook, like so damn well."

The lighting was ambient in Aiden's kitchen. The lights were dimmed. I wasn't sure when that happened but it was aesthetic. We sat at the kitchen island with a glass of red each, side by side on a barstool and I sipped on the Château Margaux with a small smile. His compliment warmed me all over. I was on to a second glass of wine and I wasn't sure if that was the reason for all of the giggling and extra flush in my cheeks.

"Maybe you should work for me," Aiden turned his palms up in question. "Be my personal chef. I'll invest in an actual dining table so that I can host dinner parties."

"You have the room for it," I nodded at the vacant floor space beside the wall to wall windows. He laughed, peering over his shoulder.

"Mmm but that's where I dance."

"You dance?"

He recoiled and gave an enthusiastic nod. The entire situation was causing butterflies to run riot in my stomach. We'd both relaxed so much over the course of the evening. I was sure that the alcohol might have had a part in that. But it didn't matter. I felt so carefree, so light and unburdened. Which was rare. It wasn't often that I had this much fun without that pit of nausea keeping me from becoming one hundred percent at ease.

"Of course I dance," Aiden lifted his glass and threw back the rest of its contents before he set it down and offered me his hand. "Come on."

"Oh no," I shook my head and leaned back on the bar stool. "No no. I do not dance. Unless we count college parties, table top champion four months running — not to brag — but no one had that amount of consecutive wins."

"Well, table top isn't quite what I had in mind," he wrapped his large warm hand around mine and I felt the flutters pick up speed. I almost felt breathless for a moment. As if the simple gesture of his hand around mine was enough to slow down time.

I shook it off and hopped off the stool, feeling the cold of the tiles through my pin striped socks. When we reached the middle of what would be used as a dining area in most cases, he turned around and dropped my hand, holding up an authoritative finger. "Wait here for one moment."

I watched with pinched brows as he walked out of the kitchen, tousling his unkempt almost black head of hair. A few moments later the sound Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded house began floating through from the ceiling speakers. Aiden strolled back in with his hands in his pockets and I felt my breath hitch at how the fabric of his white shirt clung to his chest.

🎶 There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me 🎶

He stopped in front of me and took my hand, his other wrapping around and settling on my lower back. My heart was thumping fast. Faster than any tune that he could have set. We moved with the moderately sped music and I felt a blush as I stared up at his gorgeous face.

"Why this song?"

"I honestly didn't choose it," he chuckled. "I just hit play. But I like this one. It's not too slow. Not too fast."

His lips moved as he mouthed the words. He rested his hand on my waist and pushed me out into a spin before pulling me back into his firm torso.

🎶 Hey now, hey now
Don't dream it's over 🎶

The sensation of being so close to him was overwhelming. I could feel his finger tips gently digging into my back. I could feel his soft breath fanning against my face. My hand rested on his chest, just below his shoulder and the urge to let my hands travel was strong.

🎶 Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
We know they won't win 🎶

It would be impossible not to be lost in his deep green gaze. Each time that he lifted his hand and twirled me in a circle I felt that longing and need to be back in his arms and watching his exquisite face. He really did look as though he had been sculpted in the heavens and given the kiss of life by an angel.

"Aiden. . . Arian?"

We stopped our sway and I jumped back with an instant bout of fear until I saw Po watching us from the threshold. I almost missed the curious look that Aiden gave me but he quickly pushed his hands into his pockets and turned his attention to Po who had a large back pack on his shoulder and his hood up. "Yes Po?"

"Just thought that I'd let you know, it went well."

"Thanks."

The air felt so much thicker than it did before. The relaxed vibe was diminishing and I was desperate to make sure that things didn't become uncomfortable. I wasn't sure why though? It wasn't like we were doing anything wrong? Or perhaps we were. Po probably knew that I was married. He was probably suspicious. Perhaps he'd want to tell the poor sucker that was sitting at home while I fooled around with another man that I couldn't be trusted.

Calm down.

"Po," I said before he could turn to leave. "I made dinner. There's leftovers. Would you like some?"

I ran around to the stove top where the pots and pans were lidded but before I could grab a clean plate, he interrupted. "No thanks Arian. I've eaten. Goodnight."

He gave me a small appreciative smile and Aiden and I watched as he disappeared. I didn't want it to be obvious that I was worked up. My heart was still beating fast and loud so I took a deep breath and smiled at Aiden who wandered towards the countertop.

"I'm sorry if you felt like that was inappropriate?" He said with a slight furrow in his brows. "I wasn't trying to—"

"No no," I interrupted. "I'm just tired. Perhaps had too much wine. I'm a little jumpy. We were just dancing. It's fine."

He still seemed unconvinced. I wasn't sure what to make of his doubt. But he gave me a tight smile and nodded. "I just don't want to overstep or—"

I shook my head and waved a dismissive hand. It probably wasn't the most innocent or appropriate thing to be doing. It would land me in more trouble than I could imagine. Not to mention, I didn't want to give people the wrong idea about who I was.

"Um so uh— Po," I said, changing the subject. "I've kind of been curious. Is he a friend or an employee?"

He picked up the bottle of wine and pulled the cork out before he began topping up our glasses. "He's both," he nodded, focusing on his task. "We were friends in high school. Ran with the same crowd. He didn't have a lot going for him. Foster kid, no siblings. But we got along well so we became close."

He handed me a glass and gestured for me to follow him into the living room. Once again, the lights were low, the curtains were still open despite the dark. Our reflections were mirrored in the windows as we wandered over to the couch and sunk into the soft suede seats. It was so comfortable that a sigh of satisfaction breezed last my lips as I tucked my legs under my bum.

"So a while back," Aiden continued as he threw a hand behind his head. "He started doing hard drugs. This was quite some time ago. It was hard to watch. But it landed him in trouble on more than one occasion. I offered to help him out. A job, a room, all that. But he has to have regular drug tests. He knows that he's out if he fails to keep up his end of the deal."

"That's really decent," I told him with a small smile. "It's nice that he has someone to look out for him. Who knows what could have happened to him if you hadn't stepped in to help."

"Mmm," he agreed with pursed lips. "With the way he was going, jail. Or dead."

My eyes widened as I sipped on the wine. Aiden turned to me and even in the dimmer light, his gaze shone. His warm skin tone was flawless in the ambient lighting. I had the urge to run a hand along his forearm but I held it back, knowing that it would be weird if I started caressing his arms and face.

He lightly chuckled and shrugged, vocalising his thoughts on our conversation. "Sorry. That was all a bit heavy. Po is a great person. Different but great. He's a bit of an assistant slash errand man."

"So when he came through earlier," I pointed at the door. "And he said that it went well. What was he talking about?"

His expression remained the same but he flinched. It was subtle. But he sat forward and placed his glass on the coffee table. "He's helping paint a friends house. Part of his attempt to turn things around includes volunteer work."

As strange as it was, I felt like he just lied to me. I couldn't explain what would lead me to draw that conclusion. There was just a. . . shift in his tone and posture. But hell, I'd had a bit to drink. There was a real chance that I was imagining it.

We continued to talk for a while. It must have been at least two hours. It was relaxed. . . easy. We spoke about topics that meant nothing but somehow we ended up in fits of laughter over and over again. He made me laugh more in one evening than I had laughed in an entire twelve months. Eventually, I glanced over and saw him with his head tipped back against the sofa, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with slow even breaths.

I stood up, slow, so that I wouldn't disturb him and took his glass, tip toeing towards the kitchen. As I was creeping in, I saw Po sitting at the breakfast bar with a plate of dinner in front of him. He had changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, scoffing the food back with appreciation.

His head whipped towards me when I cleared my throat and he gave me a timid smile. "Hey," he said. "This is good. I ate the rest. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" I told him as I walked around and placed the wine glasses into the sink. "It would have been wasted."

He pointed his fork at the entrance and swallowed his mouthful. "He fell asleep on the couch?"

"Yeah," I nodded with a smile.

"It's the red wine. Does it every time. That's why he doesn't drink it often. He prefers beer."

"Huh," I nodded at the information.

"I'm surprised he got that bottle out," Po pointed at the Château Margaux. "He's been saving it for a while."

I stared at him as he stood up and rounded the island with his plate which was now clear. He began rinsing the dishes and piling them into the dishwasher without offering more of an explanation. The thought of Aiden regarding me as someone special enough to pop open his saved wine with, was overwhelming. We'd spent a lot of time together over the past month. With him coming into the hospital most mornings. But tonight was different. We'd both been more open, laughed more. If I was being totally honest. . . more flirtatious.

My brows furrowed when I realised that I needed to be more cautious. I was spending a lot of time with a man that I could feel was more than just a friend. If his feelings developed as well, I could end up hurting him. It would be too complicated. But I knew that I didn't want to stop hanging around him. I just needed to stop flirting. The lines needed to be made clear.

As much as I didn't want them to be made clear.

"Well, I should go," I said, twisting on my heel.

Po kicked the dishwasher shut and watched me collect my things from the corner of the kitchen while he dried his hands. "How are you getting home?"

"Uh, I'll call a cab I suppose," I smiled and fished around in my bag until I found my phone.

My blood ran cold as soon as I saw the thirty seven missed calls from Desmond. My throat felt tight and panic had me trembling. But I didn't want Po to catch on. So I focused on steadying my shake and began tapping through my contacts in search of the cab service.

"I'll drive you home," Po offered. I glanced up saw him giving me an awkward smile. It looked like he was attempting to appear approachable. "I think Aiden would prefer that I drove you," he added when I was about to decline.

I didn't want to seem rude so I smiled and thanked him. I decided not to stress out about Desmond. He was out of town so I could tell him that I was asleep when he was phoning. I couldn't seem to think straight, but I would come up with something. I followed Po down to the basement and gave him the address for a building just around the corner from mine. I didn't want Aiden to find out where I lived.

We wandered towards an SUV. The same one that I was driven to the hospital in. But I couldn't help but notice the other vehicles lined up with Aiden's name printed on name plates on the wall. There were three more SUV's as well as two sleek gorgeous sports cars. But the car that captured my attention was the deep rich purple Mercedes Benz sports car that looked a little feminine and out of place among the other vehicles.

"Who does the purple car belong to?" I questioned as we climbed into the SUV and pulled our belts on. Po put the car into gear and began pulling out of the space with a soft smile.

"Miss Zoerina Emerson or Zee," he grinned. "Aiden's sister."

"Why does everyone shorten these gorgeous names?" I murmured before I straightened up and turned in my seat. "Do you mind if I just call you Hunapo? I like it."

He watched the road. The streetlights illuminated his small confused smile. But after a moment, he nodded. "Sure. That's fine with me."

I smiled with satisfaction. "So Hunapo." He rolled his eyes with a light laugh. "Do you have a girlfriend? Wife? Kids?"

I was sure that he didn't after what Aiden told me tonight. But I didn't want to take what Aiden had said and leave it at that. I wanted to ask questions for myself and get to know him on my own terms. I also wouldn't let him know that Aiden had talked about his past with me. It might have made him uncomfortable.

"Uh, no," he said with a more solemn expression. "It's ah- well-"

"Oh," I nodded. "Boyfriend?"

He laughed and I think that was the first time I had heard him do that. "No," he shook his head with pursed lips. "No I'm um- I'm A-sexual. So I just haven't found the right- person for me."

"Oh," I rested my elbow on the center console and watched as he nervously scratched his head. "I don't know a lot about that. You don't have sexual desire's, is that right?"

"More or less. It's different for a lot of people, so I can't speak for all. I don't have sexual desires but I'm not A-romantic. I would like to meet someone and have a relationship."

"I suppose it would be a matter of finding someone who didn't need to have sex as well?"

"Not necessarily," he said, slowing the car at a red light. "I can have sex. I had a lot of it when I was younger. With Men and Woman. I didn't understand what was wrong with me. I thought it might have been a matter of being gay. But it wasn't that. I figured it out eventually. So I can have sex for the sake of my partner. It just doesn't. . . appeal to me."

"Wow," I quirked my brows as I rested my chin in my hand. "Do you guys have communities or anything?"

"Mhmm," he nodded. "We grow more and more as people come to realise that its not a matter of being mentally ill or gay or whatever else society tries to claim that we are."

We came to a stop in front of the neighbor building. I couldn't stop smiling. That was the most that we'd ever conversed and he'd opened up about something so personal. It felt wonderful to know that he trusted me enough to be honest with me. But then I felt a little bit terrible that I couldn't be more honest about myself.

I picked my bag up off the floor and smiled. "Thanks for the lift Hunapo," I gave him a teeth baring grin. "I suppose I'll see you. . . when I see you. Oh and for the record, I am one hundred percent certain that you'll find the right person."

He chuckled as he rested his hand on the steering wheel. "Thank you Arian. And I apologise if I seemed. . . closed off when we met. Aiden doesn't let a lot of people in to his life. He's a good friend. I look out for him."

"I understand," I said, standing outside of the car as I leaned in. "You're lucky to have each other."

He nodded. "Night Arian."

"Goodnight."

I watched the car drive up the road and around the corner before I followed its direction and walked to the front of my apartment building. It was a shame that after such an amazing evening, I could feel the anxiety building back up. The closer that the elevator got to my floor, the more upset my stomach became. It was unfair that simply returning home had me so worked up.

When I unlocked the front door, I paused, frozen to the spot. My stomach somersaulted becase I noticed Desmond's shoes and duffle beside the table in the foyer. The lights were on and the television hummed.

"Arian?!"