“Are you an actress or a film student?” he asked as I shrugged on my backpack.
Flattered that he would think I was either, I shook my head. “Neither. Just a shop girl.”
“No,” he said, his expression thoughtful and intense, “definitely not just a shop girl. You’re talented.”
Amazed, I didn’t know how to respond.
Aidan continued before I could. “You draw people in, make the story come alive. That’s hard to do merely standing there, reading a book aloud. I’m begrudgingly impressed.”
Begrudgingly?
I scowled up at him but before I could respond, Sylvie interrupted. “Lunch again. Please?”
And as always, it was difficult to say no to her.
Honestly, I didn’t want to. I, of course, wanted to spend time with Sylvie. But as much as Aidan flummoxed me, I also unwillingly gravitated toward him. Which made me want to run in the opposite direction. Confusing, I know!
“Sure, sweetheart. Nora and I are going to step outside for a minute to have a private conversation. You stay here.”
While my heart raced at whatever was about to be said in this “private conversation,” Sylvie frowned up at him. “Why?”
He gave her a stern look. “Well, it wouldn’t be private if I told you, now would it?”
“I like her.” Her words held a surprisingly hard edge. She appeared to sense the undercurrent between me and her uncle in that way that adults liked to pretend kids couldn’t.
“I know.” He cupped her face, giving her a reassuring smile. “We’ll only be a second.”
I tried to give her a reassuring smile of my own as I followed her uncle into the corridor, but that was hard to do when I suspected I was about to be confronted. Adrenaline shot through me, making my hands shake.
Out in the corridor, I followed Aidan to a quiet corner and looked up at him expectantly.
Expression grim, he folded his arms over his chest and announced, “Sylvie is growing too attached to you.”
Confused, I mirrored his body language. “Too attached?”
“It isn’t wise.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Surely if this was about trust, that would take time. You couldn’t automatically trust someone. You had to give them time to earn it. I knew I needed time to earn his trust regarding Sylvie. How could he not see that?
Aidan looked quickly peeved. “Because she’s already lost too much. I don’t want her attaching herself to something temporary.”
“But I’m not going anywhere,” I argued.
“Right now, you’re not. But you’re only twenty-two. How long is this little volunteer phase of yours going to last?” His green eyes were hard. “I don’t want Sylvie at this hospital. She should never have been dumped here in the first place.”
I realized then that part of his anger was really toward Sylvie’s dad, but that didn’t mean his words didn’t sting.
“Some of these children are seriously ill and she’s befriended them,” he continued, exasperated. “I don’t want her to lose any more than she already has. And, as noble as it is to give your time to these kids, I’d like to know what it is exactly you get out of these visits?”
I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to know why. But he was the parent of a kid I spent time with, so of course he needed to know why.
“It’s not about me,” I answered, my tone brittle with tension. “If being with me— listening to me telling them a story—gives a child some happiness in a time when they are pretty sorely lacking that emotion, then it’s worth any sadness I might feel when I have to say goodbye to them.” I gestured to my ridiculous costume. “I don’t do this for me. I do it for them.” I turned abruptly and strode back toward the common room before my explanation transformed into anger.
If I wouldn’t allow Seonaid, my goddamn best friend, to question my motives, I certainly wouldn’t stand for being questioned by Mr. Big Shot.
I collected Sylvie, not wanting her to be punished for my argument with her uncle, even if I wanted to run as far away from him as possible. Instead, I sat in the cafeteria with them both, refusing to look at him, and engaging Sylvie in constant conversation.
The whole time, I felt his eyes on me. I hated it.
Because once again, he made me feel small.
And this time it was his fault.
The kids looked up at me expectantly as I looked back at them with a hollow feeling in my chest. I’d dreaded this moment. For the past week, I’d talked myself into believing this moment wouldn’t happen. Yet here I was, back at the hospital dressed as Peter Pan, and there was a face missing in the small crowd.
Sylvie.
Acute disappointment held me frozen in place as I tried to think of what I could’ve said or done to reassure Aidan instead of pissing him off. My only hope was that Sylvie had been enrolled back at school and that was why she wasn’t here.
“Peter?” Aly asked expectantly.
Her voice drew me out of my stupor, and for the first time, I noted Aly was tucked under a blanket on a chair. Only last week, she’d been sitting on the floor with the other kids, well enough to move around on her own.
Aly’s leukemia was worsening.
I shook myself, suddenly annoyed. Sylvie had been through hell and back, but she was healthy and safe, which was more than I could say for the kids I’d come here to entertain. For whatever reason, I’d let myself get too attached to Sylvie Lennox. It was time to let go.
I grinned at Aly, like I didn’t see how sick she was because she really didn’t need the reminder. “Are we all ready for more Harry Potter?”
Before they could respond, the doors to the common room swung open, and my breath caught as Aidan Lennox’s gaze locked on mine.
“Don’t start without me!” Sylvie rushed into the room from under the arm he had bracing the door open.
Relief flooded me as she grinned excitedly and then flopped down on the floor at my feet. She rolled her wrist, mimicking the royal wave, and said cheekily, “You may continue.”
Trying to suppress my laughter, I placed my left foot behind my right and bent my knee, lowering into a graceful bow. “Your Highness.”
Sylvie giggled and cupped a hand around her mouth to whisper, “You’re doing it like a girl.”
I cupped my hand around my mouth and whispered back, “I think they know I’m a girl.”
“Well, now they do.”
Lips pinched together to stop my laughter, I glanced up at the door to find Aidan watching us carefully. I let my gratitude shine out of my eyes and his expression softened. He acknowledged my silent thank you with a nod, and then he closed the door, leaving me alone with the children.
Offering me his trust.
I don’t know what Aidan did with his time while I entertained the kids, I only know that when Sylvie grabbed my hand and led me out of the common room, Aidan was striding down the hall toward us, his phone to his ear. He zeroed in on us and I heard him say, “Like I said, if he wants to do this, he needs to come to me … Just tell him. Look, I have to go. We’ll speak later.”
His features were strained as he stopped before us and slipped his phone into his pocket. Concern for him prompted me to ask, “Everything okay?”
He studied me, so intently I swear my breath caught in my throat.
“Aye, thanks.” He looked down at Sylvie. “Did you have fun?”
“Yup! We’ve nearly finished the first book. Can I have mac and cheese now?”
Aidan sighed, amused. “You’re going to turn into one giant plate of macaroni.” He looked at me. “That’s all she ever wants me to cook.”
“I can see the attraction,” I said, smiling up at him. Then I saw the speculative look in his eyes and realized what I’d said. I flushed. “I meant the appeal. I can see the appeal. Of mac and cheese.”
And just like that, I think my knickers melted under extreme heat because Aidan Lennox’s rugged features relaxed into the sexiest goddamn smile I’d ever seen in my life.
No person could possibly be safe from that smile.
“Would you like some?”