Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 51

Aria's POV

"Fine," Aiden said with that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. "Show me your skills."

I rushed to my room and grabbed my makeup bag, mentally cursing myself the entire way. Why had I offered to help cover up a hickey that I'd apparently given him? This was beyond mortifying.

When I returned, Aiden had settled back into his chair, head tilted slightly to expose his neck. That little red mark seemed to taunt me—evidence of my drunken behavior I couldn't even remember.

"Let's get this over with," I muttered, squeezing concealer onto the back of my hand.

"Not excited about touching me again?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "You were quite enthusiastic about it last night."

I nearly dropped the makeup. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

"Why? Your face turns the most fascinating shade of red."

I took a deep breath, willing my hands not to shake as I dabbed concealer over the mark. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, and I could feel his pulse—steady and strong—unlike my own racing heartbeat.

"Hold still," I instructed, trying to sound professional despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"Yes, ma'am."

I applied a layer of foundation over the concealer, blending carefully. Aiden remained perfectly still, but I could feel his eyes on me, studying my face as I worked.

"Why are you so concerned about hiding it?" he asked suddenly.

I nearly smeared foundation across his entire neck. "What do you mean, why? Isn't it obvious?"

"Not particularly." His eyes held genuine confusion.

"We have a contract marriage," I reminded him, my voice dropping to a whisper despite us being alone. "People aren't supposed to think we're... you know..."

"What? Actually married?" His eyebrows rose. "We are married, Aria."

"But not like that!" I hissed. "Do you really want your entire company gossiping about what we did last night?"

His lips curved into a smile. "I don't see anything wrong with it."

My hand jerked in surprise, and instead of powdering his neck, I somehow managed to dust his lips with the loose setting powder.My hand jerked in surprise, and instead of powdering his neck, I somehow managed to dust his lips with the loose setting powder.

We both froze. Aiden's blue eyes widened slightly, his lips now coated with a fine layer of translucent powder.

"I'm so sorry!" I gasped, mortified all over again.

Without thinking, I reached up and used my thumb to wipe the powder from his lips. His lips were surprisingly soft under my touch, and the sensation sent an unexpected jolt through me.

Our eyes met, and something electric passed between us.

His pupils dilated slightly, and I suddenly became hyper-aware of how close we were standing—of my fingers against his mouth, of his warm breath ghosting over my wrist.

My ears burned, heat spreading across my cheeks. I couldn't look away from his intense gaze, couldn't move my hand from where it rested against his lips.

Time seemed to slow down, the air between us growing thick with something I wasn't ready to name.

Then, abruptly, Aiden caught my wrist and gently moved my hand away. He cleared his throat and stood up.

"I should go wash this off," he said, his voice slightly rougher than before.

He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding so loudly I was sure the neighbors could hear it.

When he returned a few minutes later, his face was clean, but the mark on his neck was still perfectly concealed.

"You did a good job," he said, examining his reflection in a nearby mirror. "Can't see it at all."

"Thanks," I mumbled, still flustered from our moment of... whatever that was.

He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. "Next time, though," he added casually, "don't bother covering it."

I froze, my brain short-circuiting at the implication of his words. Next time? As in, he expected there to be a next time?

Before I could form a coherent response, he grabbed his jacket and keys. "I need to head to the office."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me standing in the dining room with my face burning and my thoughts in complete disarray.

---

"Lillian, are you awake yet? [Puppy-eyes.JPG]"

True to form, Lillian replied within seconds: "Up this early on a weekend? Something's wrong with you, sweetie!"

I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. "No, just went to bed early last night."

"Tsk, you don't need to serve me breakfast-in-bed romance updates this early, you know."

"? I didn't say anything..."

"You don't need to say anything. I get it!"

I touched my ear, feeling the heat there, and remembered why I'd reached out to Lillian in the first place. I quickly steered the conversation in a different direction:

"Hey, hypothetically speaking... if a friend got drunk and threw up on someone they're attracted to, how would they make it up to them?"

Lillian's response was immediate: "OMG YOU THREW UP ON AIDEN?!?!"

"!!! Not me, my friend!"

"Sure, your 'friend'.My advice? Do exactly what you're doing—run around asking everyone else for advice."

"! I'm seriously looking for help here."

"So how did your husband—sorry, I mean your friend's crush—react?"

I bit my lip, then slowly typed: "The crush didn't seem to mind. Even helped my friend change into pajamas."

"Then it's simple. Buy him something he likes, something thoughtful. A peace offering."

Looking at my friend's suggestion, I realized I barely knew anything about Aiden. What would he even like?

How was I supposed to find the perfect apology gift for a man who probably had everything?

Just then, the doorbell rang. I picked up my phone, sent Lillian a quick emoji, and went to answer the door.

Who would be coming over this early?