Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 139

Aria's POV

"What?"

Aiden looked at me. "Isn't Valentine's Day about showing off on social media?"

I felt something inside me shrivel. Reality hit me hard—he wasn't giving me these luxurious gifts because he simply wanted to make me happy. This was about maintaining appearances, showing the world our supposedly perfect marriage.

Though I understood the practicality of it—after all, this was our agreement—I couldn't stop the heavy feeling in my chest.

"Don't you want to post?" Aiden asked.

I shook my head quickly, forcing enthusiasm back into my voice. "No, that's not it. I was just thinking about how to post it appropriately."

If this was what he wanted, I would play my part.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, watching me closely.

I swallowed hard. "Let's add a photo of us holding hands."

Aiden nodded.

I walked over to him, slowly sliding my left hand into his right, intertwining our fingers one by one, then clasping tight.

His hand was warm and strong. No matter how many intimate moments we'd shared, touching him still made my heart race.

I raised my phone with my right hand to take the photo. I could feel my ears burning with each passing second.

After taking several shots, I tried to pull away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. But when I loosened my grip, Aiden tightened his.

I looked up into those deep eyes that always seemed to see right through me. "What's wrong?"

"This doesn't look convincing enough," he said simply.

"Oh... what should we do then?"

He released my hand and walked toward the piano, sitting down. "Come here."

I followed without question, my legs almost moving on their own.

"Sit here," he instructed, pointing to the spot directly in front of him.

The moment I sat down, he took my hand again. Before I could react, Aiden wrapped his arms around me from behind.

My entire body went rigid. I felt his weight against my shoulder, his breath warm on my cheek. Heat rushed to my face so quickly it made me dizzy.

Sitting there surrounded by him, I felt everything intensifying—my heartbeat, my breathing, my awareness of every point where our bodies connected.

Aiden reached for the roses I'd set aside, placing them in my lap. "Hold these."

My brain went completely blank. I automatically clutched the flowers, their fragrance mixing with his cologne into an intoxicating combination.

"Phone passcode?" he asked, his voice so close to my ear it sent shivers down my spine.

"0828," I answered automatically.

"Your birthday?" There was something like amusement in his voice.

I felt embarrassed. "Yes," I admitted softly.

He began taking photos, his body still wrapped around mine. Each breath he took sent warm air across my skin. My body reacted intensely to his proximity, heat pooling deep in my abdomen. I became acutely aware of the growing wetness between my thighs, grateful he couldn't see my face or read my thoughts.

The "torture" didn't last long. Apparently satisfied with the photos, Aiden released me and moved away.

The sudden absence of his warmth left me feeling strangely bereft. Still clutching the roses, I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

God help me, I was losing my ability to remain professional. This man was breaking down my defenses with every casual touch, and he probably had no idea.

I took my phone back from Aiden's hands. When I opened the gallery to look at the photos he'd just taken, I felt my cheeks heat up again. These photos were so intimate, so atmospheric—how had he captured that kind of chemistry?

"Send those to me," he said.

I was completely absorbed in staring at the photos when his voice startled me. I quickly forwarded the photos to his phone.

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