Page 104 of The Nanny

Cassie

I’m going to tell him today, I’ve decided.

I know it’s not a good look that I waited yet another day, but it’s just that we had such a good time at the park yesterday (I lost at Frisbee, but with the bet we made, did I really?), and then Aiden worked late, and it’s just not something I could bring myself to talk about over text. Even face-to-face, there is a good chance he’ll get irreversibly angry and tell me to get out of his house, which is something I’ve been trying to brace myself for, but deep down I know it isn’t something I could ever be prepared for.

I’ve been pacing around the living room while Aiden takes Sophie to school, running through every possible outcome in my head. In some versions, Aiden is confused but understanding. In others, he is so angry that he can’t even look at me. And in the more delusional possibilities—he’s evengladto have found me again.

But that seems unlikely.

I have to tell him though. Today. Before he can get back here and distract me with his kiss and his touch and all that comes with it. I know if I let him touch me, I’ll lose my resolve, even if something in the back of my brain begs that I keep it quiet just a little longer, because what if today is the last time he ever does? It’s something I don’t even want to consider, but I know that I have to.

And I can live with that, if it happens. Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself. I did it once, right? Sure, it was shitty, but I got over it. Mostly.

You know it’s different now,my brain whispers.

And that’s the crux of it all. Aiden is no longer that faceless person who turned me on and whispered to me in the dark. Now, he’s this person who seems like so much more than I deserve, with his nice smile and his pretty eyes and his addictive laugh. Now, Aiden is dad jokes and forehead kisses (Sophie) and secret kisses (me) and sweet, filthy words whispered in the dark that are murmured directly in my ear rather than through my computer speakers. He’srealnow, and that means it will be a thousand times harder to get over him.

I’ve been going over my speech in my head, trying to hammer out exactly what I’m going to say so that I have a fighting chance of convincing Aiden that I had no idea about our history before coming here, and that I’ve only kept it from him since learning about it for fear of how he might react. Surely he can’t fault me for that, right? It’s reasonable for me to react the way I did. It feels like it is in my own head, at least.

Fuck.

This is going to be a disaster.

My phone buzzes on the counter a foot away from where I’m pacing, and I’m so on edge that it actually makes me jump beforeI snatch it up. There’s a text from Aiden waiting for me on my lock screen, and I slide it open to check it as my stomach twists more into knots.

AIDEN

On my way back.

Even as nervous as I am, there is still a bit of fluttering underneath all the anxiety, because despite my determination to sabotage his plans, I’m still thinking about the alternative course of action where I just keep my mouth shut and let Aiden make good on his promise to fuck me on the countertop.

You have to tell him.

I really, really, hate doing the right thing.

After a round of wearing a Cassie-sized path into the living room carpet, I step over to the kitchen sink to run some cold water so that I can press it to the flushed skin at my cheeks and neck, trying to calm my nerves even as my heart starts to pound in my chest with building anxiety. I had thought about calling Wanda for courage, but I’m afraid that if I talk to anyone else before I go through with this, I might break down from the stress of it all. I reach for the towel hanging on the handle to the oven door to dry my face, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths to try to calm my racing heart.

I have no idea which part of this mild panic attack I’m experiencing causes me to miss the door opening downstairs sometime later—but it means that I actuallyjumpwhen I feel Aiden’s arms sliding around me, pulling me back until my ass is flush with his hips and kissing my neck.

“Jesus,”I gasp. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He laughs against my throat. “Wasn’t trying to sneak up on you.”

His hands are already sliding up and over my waist, my lashes fluttering when he cants his hips, revealing that he’s already hard.

“Wow, someone is impatient.”

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you on this counter since the other night,” he murmurs, still kissing my neck.

I close my eyes. “I guess that’s what inspired the stakes you laid down for the Frisbee game you cheated at.”

“Catching the Frisbee isn’t cheating.”

“It is when you’re gigantic.”

“I’m sorry.” I feel his hand slipping under my shirt to palm my stomach, teasing the waistband of my shorts. “Can I make it up to you?”

My mouth tilts up slowly, getting lost in his touch. “Mmm. Maybe.”

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