Me: That was an asshole move and you're truly a jackass. 

I sent Aaron the message yesterday. Today is Monday and I still haven't heard from him. 

I'm fuming. I'm in a bad mood for the whole day. I'm hanging and arranging the clothes with a fuming rage the whole day. I wonder what Aaron has to say for himself this time. If he has to say anything. 

One man already made a fool out of me the last time, I won't let another play me around the same way. Oh, no. I'm changing the game this time. 

I stop at the store for the groceries on my way home, buying myself some chocolate for the pity party I'm about to have. I don't let myself shed a tear. I'm not really happy, I'm just angry that I'm the one being the fool again. One would think that I'd learn the first time. But no, it had to happen again just to remind me I'm an idiot. 

I scoff, shaking my head to myself. 

When I climb up the stairs to my flat, still in my Men-are-fucking-bastards-and-I-hate-them mood, I spot Aaron. Right in front of my door, pacing back and forth, holding a bouquet of roses. My step falters, taking in his figure.

He looks way better than he did last night. His hair is ruffled in that kind of sexy way that makes you want to run your hands through it. He's wearing jeans and a black button-down. He looks delicious. Even when I'm mad at him, this man looks good enough to eat and I just can't lie to myself.

I'm attracted to him. In this moment, I'm only attracted to his looks, not his personality precisely. I'm still attracted to him and I can't help myself. 

"What are you doing here?" I shoot when Aaron just stops and looks at me. He says nothing, only stands with his legs spread apart, looking at me with a sombre look. I can also read regret in his eyes. 

I have to look away because the look he wears makes me even angrier. 

What is it with men, thinking that when they fuck up, some roses and a regretful expression will help? 

"I came to ... apologise," Aaron says with a tight voice.

I raise my eyebrows at him, not letting it go that easily. "For?" I prompt, faking the nonchalance. 

Aaron's mouth tightens. I'm not making this easier for him. He made a fool out of me and that's not something I ever want to feel again. I've been played once, I refuse to be played the second time. 

"For being an asshole to you. I don't know, Brooke, for not calling you or texting you?" 

I blink at him a few times. "So, you're not actually sure what you have to apologise for?" 

Aaron rakes his hand through his hair in frustration. "No, I know ... I know I was a jackass to you and you didn't deserve it and I'm sorry for that. Also for not, you know ... calling you or at least texting you after the incident with Rory." 

I nod and go up the stairs, unlocking the door. I feel Aaron hesitating and I know he's not sure of what's going on. 

I go to my flat and turn to him, leaning on the door. "Am I forgiven?" Aaron asks, looking and sounding so lost. He really doesn't know what's going on. Good. That makes two of us. 

"I don't know. I'll think about it."

Aaron scrunches his eyebrows. "Well, can I come in?" he asks, unsure of the answer he's going to get.

I raise my eyebrows. "What for?" 

Aaron rubs his thumb over his eyebrow. "To talk. Hell, I don't know, I just want to be with you," he admits in frustration, waving that bouquet of roses around. 

A smirk touches my lips. It's that fed-up smirk, that as-if-I-don't-know-your-shit smirk. "You have a funny way of showing that, I must tell you." 

Aaron places his hand high on the doorframe, his shirt riding up a bit to show the skin and flat stomach under it. My eyes instantly catch the movement and I swallow. I know he's an asshole, but, shit, does he really have to look so good? 

"Yeah, Brooke, I know. I've told you I'm going to fuck up because I don't know how these things even work. Fuck, I've never had to worry about making a girl happy before." 

I search his eyes. He really looks so lost and frustrated, mostly with himself, because I see he wants to make it right but he doesn't know how to. I shake my head to myself and hold the door open for him. I need to let him at least try. 

He comes in, looking around the flat as if he's seeing it for the first time. He seems nervous, although I don't really know exactly why. It seems like he can't stay put and he has to constantly shift on his feet. He places the roses on the table in the living room. I refuse to pick them or take them from his hands. That would be a sure sign of me caving in. 

I cross my arms over my chest, patiently waiting for Aaron to say something. "Brooks ... You know I don't know how to do the relationships," is what he chooses to start with. 

My eyebrow slightly arches. "This is not a relationship the last time I checked. No labels, remember?" 

Aaron tightens his lips into a straight line. "Yes, yes, no labels." He sighs. "So, you know I'm going to fuck up. I've never done this. Maybe I really don't want the relationship thing as it clearly won't work out with me, but I, at least, want something more than I've had with anyone else before."

My chest painfully clenches at his words and my heart starts beating a little bit faster. I nod, kind of understanding where he's coming from, but I don't really know how much longer I can do this. How much longer I can pretend that I'm putting my whole heart in this when I'm just ... not. 

It seems like all I'm doing lately is waiting for Aaron to fuck up so that I'll have an excuse to break up. This is how fucked up I am. Over a man who left me three years ago. 

Wow, I truly seem to hate my life. No, I hate him. For doing this to me, the bastard. And I hate myself for letting him. I should've known. I should've known I wasn't anything special and he won't settle for me. He's got models parading around him all of the time, why would he set for something so average? 

Fuck, I truly hate models. Despise them. I hated Victoria when Braden dated her and she made me really hate all the models, even though I know they're not bad people and they're actually nice. But I can't stand them anymore. 

I'm bitter because of them. Whenever I look at the magazines with all the models displayed, I can't help but think, if I looked like her, would he want to stay with me then?

All these years, I've been in such a self-destructive mood, always looking for some excuses, always looking for the mistakes in me. But it wasn't me. It was him. And the only thing I can be sorry for is that I wasn't the one he wanted. 

I know I've said I'm moving on and I'm forbidding myself to even think about him anymore. But. I. Just. Can't. Get. Him. Out. Of. My. Mind. It's infuriating. 

I grip the flesh of my arms, staring at Aaron. "Yeah, I guess we're both trying to find how this thing works, huh?" I say, somewhat distantly, still lost in my own thoughts.

Damn you, Damien Knox. I hope you rot in hell. 

Aaron takes a few cautious steps towards me. He looks at me with a puzzled expression. "I don't want to lose you, Brooke. Or this, whatever this is between us. It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me," Aaron says gently.

My throat closes up. But I don't think we'll ever love each other ... And I don't know how much longer I can lie to myself and tell myself that it's okay, the feelings will come in time. They won't. Because my heart has only one name written in it, it beats only with his name in it, and that name is not Aaron. 

I feel like crying suddenly. Because of the gripping fear that I won't ever find someone I'll be able to love just because of one jackass that had fun with me and left me. I didn't mean anything to him, how the hell can I still be so obsessed with him? 

Aaron suddenly wraps his arms around me. Probably because of the look he saw in my eyes. I close my eyes and inhale the manly scent of a pure man - but not really the man I really want. 

I squeeze Aaron tighter to me, determined to get rid of the images of that other man being here with me and comforting me.

Fuck you, Damien Knox.

Shit, he really wrecked me. He shook my world and I still didn't put the pieces back. 

I stand there, in an embrace of a man I terribly want to love, but something's holding me back and I just can't. I can't give him my heart. 

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Aaron asks me softly, tenderly.

I shake my head. "I just want to be alone to think some things through ..."

Aaron pulls back and gives me a deep stare. "About us?" he asks with a rough voice.

"Yeah ... among other things," I say. I just really want to be alone right now because I can't pretend today anymore and I just want some alone time. 

Aaron presses his lips together and releases me with a tight nod. "Just ... don't think too much," he tells me with a strained voice. 

I nod with a small smile. 

Aaron leans down, pauses for a moment, and then presses his lips at the corner of my mouth, pecking it softly, meaningfully. My eyes flutter closed at the small touch and I want to cry again. Why is he acting like this? Why does he have to be so nice? 

I watch him leave my flat, taking a part of me with him. I feel kind of sad watching him go, thinking that this might be his final leave because I'm too hung up on the man that fucked me in a few different positions and then escaped. 

I get myself something strong to drink, really needing it right now to drown my sorrows. I don't drink much and I'm actually a lightweight, but sometimes, there comes a time when I just have to lose my thoughts. And drinking helps me with that, even though I know it's a bad habit. 

I want to recall Damien's face into my memories, but it's been so long since I last saw him that I barely remember his features. I do remember his piercing unforgettable turquoise eyes, though. And his messy dark hair. And that athletic form. 

I wonder if he changed now. If I saw him on the street, would I recognise him? Ah, of course I would. His unique eyes are haunting me in my sleep. 

A few drinks in, I get a phone call. I glance at the phone and groan. "Hello, my dearest brother." 

There's a pause. "Why do you sound so weird?" he asks me, always the one noticing every little detail. There's rarely ever that escapes his notice. That's what makes him such a good businessman, I predict. 

"Tired. What's up?" I ask, leaning back on the couch and close my eyes. Rory is still staying at his place.

"Driving back home. I just wanted to inform you that I'm planning a party for Rory's birthday this weekend." 

Rory's birthday? I didn't even know when it was. Some friend I am. I sigh, closing my eyes. "Alright, just text me the details," I tell him, resting my head back on the couch. I feel so bloody tired, I just want to sleep for days. 

"You sure you're okay? You sound a bit off ..." Braden says. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Work is stressing me out. You know, normal stuff ..."

"You know you could come work for me," Braden softly offers, the concern now presentable in his voice.

"No. Oh, no!" That makes me sit up a bit. "I'd claw your eyes out." 

Braden chuckles. "They don't say I'm that bad of an employer." 

"They don't say it to you," I reply back. 

"I'm not a monster, Brooke," Braden almost growls. 

Shoot, why does he have to take everything so seriously? "I'm just joking," I mumble like a small kid. "Hey, about the party, don't forget my plus one," I tell him as an afterthought, spontaneously thinking that I actually want Aaron to go with me. That's selfish of me, but I can't help myself. I still like him and I grew attached to him. 

I hear Braden exhale. "I don't think I want to see Aaron there." 

"Well, he's coming. Stop being an asshole to him. You're a man, you're supposed to forget the grudge already and be all buddy-buddy with him."

"You won't see me being all buddy-buddy with him, Brooke. Ever," he growls.

I roll my eyes. Jesus. "Yeah, okay, just learn to tolerate him, then."

"Brooks, don't you think this is too weird? He was going after my girlfriend first and now he's suddenly all over you?" 

I rub my temple. "Not this again," I groan. "I'm hanging up," I tell Braden.

"Wait! Jesus. Just ... be careful with him, that's all I'm saying. I know the type of a man he is" Of course you do, you were once the same ... Hey, why don't you come to dinner with Rory and I tonight?" 

"What, and be a third wheel?" I joke. "I'm bringing Aaron."

Braden only sighs. "Also, don't mention Rory the party. She doesn't know."

"How would I get a chance to tell her if you hauled her in your suite and locked her in your bedroom?" I mock him.

"Oh, but she really likes it there." I hear the grin in Braden's voice, the happiness just radiating from him.

"Yeah, totally hanging up now. See you!" I end the call.

I look at my glass and drink everything in it. I'm drinking now because at least one of us found happiness in life. At least one of us found the love of his life.