Aiden brings me a glass of iced tea and sets his own down, while Wyatt grabs a bottle of wine.
“Does that bother you?” I ask Aiden quietly.
He smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear. Tingles follow in his wake. I left my hair down. It’s long and goes halfway down my back. Most days it’s just easier to pin it up.
“No, little warrior. I’ve never cared for wine. My drink of choice was Scotch whisky. Expensive, full flavored.” He taps me on my nose and I back away. “You can have a glass if you’d like.”
“I don’t drink.” I shrug and look at the meal Roarke suggested I get. We replated them out of the packaging the restaurant sent per Mason’s instructions. He was vehement about not eating out of boxes. Besides, at the end of the night, it will be me doing the dishes.
“Not at all?” Aiden’s tone is gentle.
I force a smile. “It’s better not to tempt fate. I’d rather just enjoy my life than find out I inherited that gene from my mother.”
“Fair enough.”
My plate is mostly roasted brussels sprouts and carrots, and a decent portion of greens with sliced green apples and a tart dressing. The steak is a small portion with a demi-glace. It looks delicious and decadent and way too much food for me.
“Poppet, tell me about your hopes and dreams.” Roarke’s voice carries in the house.
My mouth opens and closes. “No one’s ever asked me that.”
Maybe an early foster parent, during the getting-to-know-you phase. But after what I went through, I didn’t really think I had a future. Until their offer today, I figured I’d work until something made sense.
“Great, then your answer won’t be practiced.” Roarke leans back in his chair and takes a bite of his steak.
“Oh.” I push my fork through the vegetables. “Maybe college? I took a few courses a while back.”
“Anything in particular you want to study?” Mason asks.
I set my fork down and lift my gaze to his. “I don’t know, but I have a whole year to think about it while I work here.”
“Best to have a plan going in.” Mason takes a bite and swallows it. “If you want to talk about it, I’m more than willing to help you figure it out.”
My brow furrows. What? Why? I can’t think of what’s in it for him to help me piece together a makeshift future. What will he want in return? “Maybe.”
Aiden clears his throat. “Filming starts Monday. We need to have all the necessary paperwork filled out by then. The bank needs your information on file as the sobriety companion.”
“Is it actually in your contract?” I pop a piece of brussels sprout in my mouth, expecting something not very good. When I bite down, flavor fills my mouth. My eyes widen. Oh my god, I think I’m in love.
“Yes, I have a sobriety clause. It’s explicit, and there are monetary consequences if I fail to live up to them. It’s one of the reasons we all decided to move in together.” Aiden cracks his neck to the side. “It doesn’t matter the underlying circumstances. I behaved unprofessionally on set and cost my previous film money. To back this film with me attached, they wanted assurances.”
I’m listening to Aiden and trying to focus, but I’m also trying not to stuff brussels sprouts and carrots into my mouth as fast as possible. I don’t remember when I last had something to eat, and whatever it was, it wasn’t this good.
I’m mostly speechless, anyway. I feel for him. His marriage fell apart, and it makes sense that so did he. His future was taken away from him.
I know that feeling.
“Given that we all want to fuck you, poppet, I think—”
I choke on a carrot, not expecting that to come up again. At least not while eating. I cough around the perfect food.
“Fuck, Roarke, can’t you think about anything else?” Aiden stands and rubs his hand down my back.
I cough but manage to swallow the food. Aiden hands me my glass and I wash the carrot down with some tea.
“Better?” Aiden sits back in the chair next to me.
I nod and dab my napkin at my watering eyes.