Love Me

“Damn,” I say with a smirk. “Now, I'm trapped. Whatever will I do?”

“I thought you were tired.”

“I was. I am. You look good in my bed.”

He lowers his lips to my neck and says, “You look good pi

I nod, agreeing, but the second I get loose, I leap off the bed, grab my pillow off the floor, swing it at him, and then go ru

Sadly, I don't co

Aiden has both pillows in his hands when he gets to the top of the stairs. “Give up?”

“Actually, yeah. I think that was my last burst of energy.”

He puts both pillows on the couch, scoops me up, then lies down with me in his arms. I snuggle my face into his chest, breathe in the heavenly scent that is Aiden, and close my eyes.

Saturday, November 12th

Take me shopping.

9am

I open one eye, wondering where I am. There's a heavy arm draped over my shoulder. Aiden is asleep, so I take a moment to study his perfect face. The sexy stubble on his strong jaw. His perfect nose. The pale pink of his beautiful lips. And that freaking mouth.

I close my eyes and dream about that mouth.

I wake up later to Aiden gently caressing my face. I pretend to be asleep a little while longer because it feels so good. I’m still wrapped in his arms and the side of my face is plastered to his chest.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, kissing my shoulder.

“That is the best way ever to be woken up. I feel like an attention whore.”

“Why's that?”

“You're always taking care of me. Doing stuff for me.”

“I have something you can do for me today.”

“What?”

“Take me shopping. I’ve grown out of pretty much everything from last year. My mom went with me before school started and I got a couple suits and uniforms, but that’s about it.”

“I can help you with that. We’ll go everywhere. Rag & Bone, Neiman, Saks, Bendel, Vuitton, Lauren, Burberry, and Barneys.”

“Perfect. I’ll get us a car for the day.”

By late afternoon he says, “You're a little too good of a shopper. I'm tired, broke, and starving.”

“We better feed you, then, and I know just the place.”

I take him to Serendipity 3, mostly because of their desserts. And I’m feeling decadent.

“Now I need a nap,” he says, patting his tight stomach. Figures. He can eat the fried chicken di

I’m pretty sure that Aiden didn’t see much of Central Park. I’m not even sure where we were. I just know he kept kissing me.

When the carriage comes to a halt back where we started and we get into our town car, I say, “You want to smoke a cigarette on the steps of the Met, like they do in the Gossip Girl books?”

He looks at me kinda fu

“I don’t either, but I would. Like there. Just to say I did.”

“I was thinking that you didn’t get to do any shopping. If there’s one store you could go back to, where would it be?”

“Barneys.”

“Shoes or bags?”

“Well, handbags are on the first floor. Maybe we should start there and work our way up?”

He holds my hand as I stand in front of what is my purse Mecca. A rainbow of Proenza Schouler handbags in beautiful colors.

“You have a lot of these bags, don't you?”

“Yeah, I'm kinda obsessed. I love all the colors. Their classic style.”

“You don't have that purple one, do you?”

“No, not yet. But let’s go upstairs and check out the clothes.”

“What about shoes?”

“Um, I have enough shoes,” I say, with very little conviction.

Aiden looks at me fu

We go upstairs and I have fun trying on clothes for Aiden. And it works out really well because I barely leave the dressing room. He keeps bringing me more to try on. Maybe I could send him down for shoes.

“I found three more dresses for you to try on,” he says from outside the door.

I open the door and show him the cute dress I just tried on. The dress that is screaming and throwing a temper tantrum at me for new boots to go with it.

“That’s cute,” he says. “What do you think of these?” He holds up three gorgeous gowns.

“I guess I do need another rainy day dress,” I tease.

“That or a dress for Winter Formal.”

“I like getting dressed up,” I say, grabbing the gowns to try on.

He shakes his head and grins at me. “While you do that, I’m go

“Okay,” I say happily.

When he comes back up, I’m dressed and paying. He grabs all my bags and carries them for me.

“So what do you want to do next?” he asks, as we slides into the car.

“I’d love to go home. Relax. Maybe have a movie marathon? Or watch some football?”

He kisses me in response and then tells the driver to take us back home.

I take my bags into my closet and decide what I want to take to school and what I want to leave here. Then I throw on a comfy pair of stretchy Free People tie-dyed jeans, an oversized cream sweater, and some cream cabled mule slippers.

I find Aiden in my kitchen making snacks. His phone is on the counter quietly playing something jazzy and soulful. He looks so at home in my kitchen. So at home everywhere I am.

Then I notice a big Barneys box lying on the island. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing to it.

“That’s for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, open it.”

I slowly untie the ribbon, lift off the lid, and slide open the tissue. “Ohmigawd, Aiden! I fucking love you!” I scream, pulling out the purple handbag—that I wanted but didn’t buy—and hugging it.

His eyes get big.

“Oh, I mean, I, like, love that you got it for me. I was trying to be good.”

“You bought two gowns, six bags of clothes, and the four pairs of shoes they brought up to the dressing room for you.”

“I know. That's why I didn't get the purse. I was trying to being good.”

He laughs at me, but as I’m clutching the purse, I realize, “Look! It even matches my outfit.”

“Do you need a matching purse to watch movies upstairs?”

“Well, I didn’t before, but I do now.” I set the purse down, walk into Aiden’s arms, and kiss him. “Thank you. Really. It was so u

“Good,” he says, as he spins me out of his arms, dancing with me. He spins me tightly back into his arms, kisses the tip of my nose, and then spins me back out.

I’m not sure if it’s the spins or the kisses that are making me feel dizzy.

“I was thinking since we had a big late lunch that we’d just have snacks.”

“That sounds good. What can I make?”

He picks me up and sets me on the kitchen island.

“You watch. I'll cook,” he says as he puts a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

“I’m not sure I’d call throwing a bag of popcorn in the microwave cooking,” I tease.

“I make it special.”

You make everything special, I think.

He's in and out of the fridge gathering ingredients. The microwave dings and he dumps the popcorn in a bowl then puts another bag in.

Then he stops and looks at me.

I smile at him. It sounds lame to say I smile at him but I do. He looks so damn sexy. His something comfortable is a tight white tank top and a thick pair of navy Abercrombie sweatpants that are just a little too short even though they're riding low on his hips.