Aria's POV
I jerked my head up from Aiden's chest when I realized I was still sprawled on top of him. My eyes widened as I watched his fingers methodically working their way down his shirt, unbuttoning each button with deliberate slowness.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice coming out higher than intended.
Seriously? Why was he suddenly stripping in front of me? I swear I hadn't done anything to prompt this!
His dark eyes locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. "Didn't you want to see my chickenpox?"
I froze, feeling my face heat up. "..."
I mean, technically yes, but did that require a full striptease?
He continued unbuttoning his shirt with maddening precision, each movement slow and deliberate. My heart hammered against my ribs as more of his skin became visible. By the fourth button, I couldn't take it anymore.
"Can I maybe sit beside you to look?" I suggested desperately.
This position was getting dangerously inappropriate.
"You'll see better from here," he replied simply, not pausing his movements.
Of course he wouldn't make this easy.
I remained awkwardly perched on him, watching helplessly as he undid each remaining button until his shirt fell open completely. My breath caught as his sculpted chest and defined abs came into view. Despite myself, I couldn't help but admire how perfectly built he was - all hard planes and smooth skin.
Then I spotted what I'd been supposedly looking for - scattered across his otherwise flawless chest were about twenty chickenpox marks, mostly faded but still visible.
"I've seen enough," I declared, finally pushing myself up and sliding to sit beside him on the piano bench.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had chickenpox," I added, trying to sound casual while my pulse was still racing from our proximity.
Aiden began buttoning his shirt back up. "How did you know about my chickenpox in the first place?"
Shit. I should've seen that coming. Trust Aiden to zero in on the exact detail I was hoping he'd overlook.
My mind raced as I tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn't throw Lucas under the bus. The problem was, there were so few people connecting Aiden and me that any excuse would be transparent.
Just when I was about to surrender to desperation, I spotted a faint chickenpox mark on the side of his neck. My eyes lit up with inspiration.
"When you were asleep," I said quickly, "I was actually coming over to cover you with a blanket. That's when I noticed a chickenpox mark on your neck. It looked recent, so I was worried and wanted to check if—"
"Really?" Aiden touched his neck. "Where?"
"Right here," I pointed.
"Here?" His fingers moved, missing the spot completely.
"No, more to the left," I guided, but he still couldn't find it.
Frustrated, I reached out and grabbed his index finger, pressing it directly onto the mark. "Right there."
"I feel it now," he murmured.
Without warning, he turned his face toward mine. Suddenly we were inches apart, his warm breath fanning across my cheeks. I stared at his perfectly sculpted lips, so close I could almost taste them. My heart thundered in my chest.
God, I wanted to kiss him so badly.
His dark eyes were studying me intensely, bottomless and unreadable. I gazed back, trying to decipher what he was thinking, but it was like looking into a deep well with no light.
Coming to my senses, I quickly leaned away and withdrew my hand. "I've had chickenpox before, so I have immunity. I wouldn't catch it anyway."
"Hmm," he acknowledged, then asked, "Where's the blanket?"
I blinked. "What blanket?"
"The one you said you were bringing me."
Fuck. I'd completely forgotten that part of my lie!
I glanced around the music room, suddenly aware there wasn't a blanket anywhere in sight. My carefully constructed story was crumbling fast.
Taking a deep breath, I met his eyes directly. "There is no blanket."
The crafty assistant brought me tea and snacks, then—I couldn't believe it—he actually locked me inside! What the hell was wrong with Aiden's employees?
After five minutes of sitting awkwardly in my husband's office, I decided this was ridiculous. I needed to leave. But when I tried the door, it really was locked from the outside.
Great. Just great.
I returned to the couch and sat down, my stomach growling uncomfortably. I wouldn't dare eat the lunch I'd brought—how embarrassing would that be if Aiden walked in? The situation was already awkward enough.
I nibbled on a cookie to quiet my stomach and pulled out my phone to text Claire about this absurd situation. Instead of sympathy, she responded with laughing emojis and teasing comments.
So much for best friend support. Claire clearly couldn't comprehend how mortifying this was.
Giving up on finding comfort from my so-called friend, I opened Kings of Glory to distract myself with a game. The moment the signature "timi" sound effect played, the office door swung open.
I looked up, expecting to see Lucas's assistant finally coming to his senses, but instead found myself staring at Aiden.
"I thought you were at a business lunch?" I blurted out, completely caught off guard.
"It ended early," he replied simply.
Somewhere across town, I imagined some poor executive sitting alone at a half-finished business lunch, wondering where the hell Aiden Liam had disappeared to.
Aiden closed the door behind him, loosened his tie, and approached me. "What brings you here?"
I felt too embarrassed to admit I'd come to deliver a home-cooked lunch. "I was just... passing by and thought I'd stop in."
"Passing by with a lunch container?" he asked, sitting down beside me. "Have you eaten yet?"
A sudden wave of disappointment washed over me. "No, I'm actually hungry."
And your employee trapped me in here! I wanted to add, but didn't.
Aiden took the lunch container from my hands, his fingers brushing against mine. "Perfect timing. I barely ate anything and I'm starving."
Without waiting for my response, he began opening all the containers, the savory aroma of the food I'd prepared filling the office.

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