Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 182

Aria's POV

Aiden parked the car in our garage, the engine falling silent as he turned the key. Before I could even reach for my door handle, he was there, opening it for me. His strong arms slid under my thighs and around my back, lifting me effortlessly against his chest.

"I've been wanting to do this all night," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear that sent shivers down my spine.

My eyelashes fluttered as I gazed up at him, feeling weightless in his arms as he carried me through the house and straight upstairs to our master bedroom. My heart hammered wildly in my chest—God, he looked devastatingly handsome tonight, the shadows playing across his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

"Something wrong?" Aiden asked, noticing my stare, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"My throat's parched," I replied, suddenly needing space to collect myself. My body was already responding to his proximity, and I needed a moment to breathe. "I'm going to grab some water downstairs."

I slipped out of his grasp and practically fled down the stairs, feeling his eyes tracking my every move. Once in the kitchen, I gulped down a glass of cold water, leaning against the marble island countertop, trying to calm the heat building inside me.

Within minutes, Aiden's footsteps sounded on the stairs.

"Still want to finish movie night?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe, his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms.

"Yes!" I nodded eagerly, perhaps too enthusiastically. Watching movies seemed safer than the alternative that had been dancing through my mind all evening.

"Come on then," he said with a knowing smile that suggested he could read my thoughts. "It's not that late."

It was actually pretty late—normally I'd be getting ready for bed by now—but I followed him down to the home theater in the basement, my body hyperaware of his every movement. Aiden pulled out a collection of films, spreading them across the coffee table.

"You choose," he said, his fingers brushing mine deliberately. "I'll grab some fruit for us."

"Thanks for going to all this trouble."

"For you?" His smile deepened, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made my heart skip. "It's never trouble."

As he disappeared upstairs, I sank into the plush leather couch, trying to focus on the movie titles rather than the lingering warmth of his touch.

When Aiden returned with a plate of fresh berries and sliced peaches, he settled beside me, close enough that our thighs touched. The movie started, but I couldn't concentrate on the plot. Every accidental brush of his hand against mine sent electricity coursing through me.

Halfway through the film, I felt his fingers trace lazy patterns on my thigh. I turned to find his eyes on me, not the screen, dark with desire.

"You haven't heard a word of this movie, have you?" he whispered, leaning closer.

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