Chapter 11: THE HELP

The sharp trill of my phone was a lifeline—a loud, obnoxious escape from the trap I’d willingly walked into. I glanced from Aiden—all shirtless glory and smirking confidence—to the phone screen. Damon Bass. Of course. My timing for chaotic events was impeccable.

Relief coursed through me as I clicked the phone open, stepping back to put some much-needed space between us. “Cheryl Taylor,” Damon’s husky voice filled my ear, smooth and commanding as ever. “Why haven’t you sent me your address yet?”

I hesitated, glancing at Aiden, who was now leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed, his curiosity unmistakable. Clearing my throat, I tried to mask the surprise from my voice. “I didn’t think I was supposed to send it immediately. The date’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Damon huffed, a sound of pure frustration. “I need you to send it to me right now.”

“Yes, fine…” I started but stopped mid-sentence. A strange sense of defiance bubbled up inside me. Why did I have to do what he said? He was just a VIP client at the casino and he definitely wasn’t the boss of me. Not in work, not in life. I shot Aiden a glance, pursing my lips as I gathered the courage I didn’t know I had.

“How about I send it to you tomorrow? Like, twenty minutes before you have to pick me up.” My voice ended in a sheepish little smile as I met Aiden’s gaze. His smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the show.

“Cheryl Taylor, don’t you dare—” Damon began, but I didn’t stick around to hear the rest. One tap, and the call ended.

I turned back to Aiden, whose smirk had morphed into a full-on grin. “Ouu, a date? Is that what I heard? You have a date? With who?” His tone was casual, but there was an edge of something else—curiosity? Jealousy? Did I want him to be jealous? Maybe just a tiny, petty bit.

“The guy from the bar,” I said, voice quieter than I intended.

Aiden’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, you finally scored, huh?”

I shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to. The ball somehow just… flew into his net.”

He laughed at that, but my nerves surged forward, words tumbling out of me before I could stop them. “Maybe I should cancel. Why would a guy like him want to go out with me? He definitely just wants to fuck with me.”

Aiden’s expression shifted—his teasing replaced with something softer, more serious. “That’s probably true,” he said with the same casualness, then quickly added, “But hey, hey, where’s all this coming from, Tiny?”

I sucked in a breath, the nervous energy spilling over. “I’m such a klutz. My husband cheated on me for years, and I had no clue. I clearly don’t know anything about dating or… people, and I’m obviously going to make a fool of myself.”

Aiden shook his head, stepping forward. “You’re not going to make a fool of yourself. And if anything, you’re too good for him—or any guy at all. Always keep that in your head.”

My heart did this ridiculous little leap at his words. I forced my expression to stay neutral, managing a small smile. “Really?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

“Really.” He nodded firmly. “In fact, how about this—as payment for offering to help me with the whole thing with my mom, I’ll help you prep for your date?”

I blinked at him. “Isn’t that…kind of pathetic? What do you think Anika and the rest would say if they found out you’re helping me prepare for a date so I don’t make a total fool of myself?”

Aiden waved off the concern. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Besides, isn’t this what you want? You want to stop being a prude and a pushover, don’t you? Stop being the good girl everyone takes for granted. That’s what you want, right?”

His words hit me like a freight train. He was right—I wanted change, wanted control. Slowly, I nodded, my gaze locked with his.

“Then let me teach you.” Aiden’s voice dropped, soft and low. He stepped closer, invading my space again, the air thick and electric. “Let me show you parts of yourself you’ve don’t even believe exist.”

His hand lifted, brushing against my chin, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. The touch was so light, yet it sent shivers down my spine. And then, just as suddenly, he pulled away, like he’d touched something scalding.

The air whooshed back into my lungs, and I scrambled to steady myself. I needed to put distance between us—mentally, emotionally, physically. The only way I knew how to do that was to let Damon Bass take up space in my head.

“You know,” I said, my voice unnervingly chipper as I straightened, “I think you’re right. I’ll let you help. But just don’t make it weird, okay?”

Aiden’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Me? Weird? Never.”

I snorted, a sound that was entirely too ungraceful for the tension of the moment. “Sure. Whatever you say, Scott.”

He chuckled, and the sound was so disarming that for a moment, I forgot the whirlwind of emotions storming inside me. Aiden Scott had a way of doing that—pulling me out of myself, making me feel lighter, even when I knew he was trouble wrapped in a devastatingly handsome package.

And as I turned to leave, I could still feel the weight of his gaze on me, burning through my back, leaving me questioning everything about this strange, complicated, beautiful mess I’d somehow stumbled into and one thing I knew was that, to get Aiden Scott out of mind, I needed to let someone else in, and who better than – Damon Bass.