The Best Friend’s Contract

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Chapter 27

Kenna

His lips begin to travel down to my neck, slowly leaving burning kisses onto my skin as I try my best to control my breaths rather than falling head over heels. Both of my hands are wrapped around his neck—lifting his face up to meet mine, causing him to lean his forehead against mine as he clenches his jaw.

″Aidan,″ I breathe out.

Mmm?″ He responds as he open his eyes to look directly into mine.

″One more. Just one more,″ I lean closer towards his ear before whispering the words; leaving him to grip onto my waist, teasing me by leaving kisses down my jawline—making me run my fingers through his dark brown hair.

Just as I’m about to say something, he has already kissed me on the lips. The movement of his lips on mine appears to be cautiously slow but filled with desire and somewhat . . . lust as he cups onto my face with his right hand, letting me drop my hands down to his waist; trying to find something to grip in order to make sure that this is real.

He bites onto my lower lip, earning access from me as he tilts his head to the side; slightly causing me to groan at the little pleasures from his kisses.

As we’re both running out of breath, he starts to lean back to break the kiss. Then, I find him gazing down onto my face; continuing to glance down at my lips before meeting my eyes, feeling myself being drowned in the dark orbs—leaving me breathless and speechless at the same time.

Deep, deep, down . . . we both know that we’ll have to pretend. As soon as we walk out of this room, this will be left behind. There’s no such thing as forgetting it ever happened but by pretending to forget, never mentioning it or never trying to ever make it happen again. It confuses me at the thought of not wanting him to stop, just wanting him to make me want more.

Aidan leans back, clenching his jaw as he continues to gaze down onto my face before picking up his shirt that has fallen onto the ground when we were busy living in the moment.

Both of his brown eyes never seem to look away from mine as I start to feel my cheeks heating up from the previous kisses, letting me tuck a strand of hair behind my ear before trying to make them stay back in place—knowing how they must’ve been in a mess when he was cupping onto my face, making me lean back onto the closet and passionately making me feel wanted, craved and needed.

To my surprise, he is already wiping the smudge on my upper lip. ″Just so you know, I can walk out of this room and pretend that this thing ever happened but that’s it . . . I can only pretend. I can’t promise you that I would never think about it,″ He says as he fixes my hair before leaning back, dropping his hand to the side.

″That’s all I need,″ I breathe.

″Tell me one thing, Kenna and I want you to be honest with me. There’s something here, right? There’s something between us and we’re just trying to simply push it aside. Do you think that’s true?″ He asks, his eyes piercing deeply into mine which causes me to lean deeper into the closet, not knowing whether it’s what I want to say.

I look away, trying to find the accurate words.

″Actions speak louder than words,″ He clears his throat before running his fingers through his hair as he glances at the mirror, wanting to make sure that he looks more like himself than a mess. ″Just remember that,″ He adds, leaving me at the exact spot.

We both walk towards the door, hesitating on whether we should just step out and forget about all of this—never speak or mention of it again or spend a couple more minutes to just talk about it more deeply than we did before. The look on his face shows just how much it confuses him, too; not just me.

I watch as he steps out of the room, turning to look at me with an immediate smile plastered onto his face. ″You coming? I’m not getting younger,″ He grins.

Slowly, yet surely, I manage to step out of the room before standing a few inches apart from him; realising that we have passed that stage—the stage to reminisce. ″Right back at you,″ I mutter under my breath as he leans back, grabbing to hold onto my hand before we walk down the stairs, after earning another glance from him.

Guests and friends of the family are all chattering, laughing and even taking pictures as they enjoy themselves with drinks in their hands as Aidan and I walk down the stairs, slowly coming into view—causing them to look up, surprised at his casted forearm.

From afar, I can see May Atwell’s eyes widen at the sight as she tries to get a better view but I just remain close to Aidan, liking how he continues to grip onto my hand; letting me lean closer than pushing me away.

″Oh my lord, what happened to you?″ One of them asks, ″What happened, Aidan? Did you fell off a tree? Were you running off with the cows?″ She continues to ask while the others chuckle before whispering in concern—causing me to just stand still, waiting for him to answer the questions.

He clears his throat, ″Life happens.″

They laugh at his answer as he smiles, ″Please, I’m not the highlight of the party. My parents are,″ He continues to speak before pulling me aside after glancing down at me; letting us walk past the guests to the kitchen—where less people are gathered before he starts to take a seat near the kitchen counter.

To my surprise, May Atwell appears. ″Aidan . . . we just met yesterday and you were perfectly fine! What happened? You clearly didn’t have a broken arm before,″ She glances at my direction before looking back at Aidan who has a sly smile plastered onto his face.

There’s just something about that smile, making me wonder how badly he would want to tell everyone about what happened than just covering it up. It might embarrass himself but I just want to know how they would react—pretty sure they might just laugh and doubt whether he’d be lying or not.

Shit happens. You and I both know that,″ He replies.

″Of course . . . just a little bit surprised to see you like this. Get well soon, Aidan.″ She says before smiling at me, walking out of the kitchen—leaving Aidan and I, on our own.

I turn to look at him, seeing him currently looking back at me which causes me to clear my throat, a smile slowly creeping up my face. ″What are you looking at?″ I ask, slowly before taking a seat, in the opposite direction from him—letting him face me, clearly.

″You,″ He answers with a smile.

My heart starts to beat faster than usual as we both stare deeply into each other’s eyes but before I can utter a single word, he has already broke out into a chuckle; surprising me slightly. ″You dumbass, I was clearly looking at you . . . where else would I be looking at?″ He raises an eyebrow, smirking.

I roll my eyes, quickly looking away to see Marc and Diana smiling to one another as they laugh, enjoying the moment and enjoying another year of being together while I stay still at my spot, glancing at Aidan who is currently scrolling down his phone with his uninjured arm.

--

″Happy anniversary, mother.″ Aidan leans in towards his mother before pecking onto her cheek, earning a smile from her. ″Hopefully every year is a better one,″ He adds.

Diana pulls him in for a hug, ″Thank you, Aidan. Hopefully you’ll get better in no time so you can start doing the things you love, again.″ She replies as she turns towards me, pulling me in for a hug—letting me return it, knowing that we’re leaving in a few more minutes back to New York, then everything else will be the same as it was before.

″Like what? Working?″ He chuckles.

″Well . . . you’re good at that. Just don’t forget to spend some time together,″ She gestures at the both of us. ″You two are still young and there’s a lot of things that you can experience together rather than staring at the computer screen for too long, Aidan. Remember that,″ She pats onto his right arm, letting him roll his eyes before smiling.

″See you back in New York,″ He says, earning a wave from her.

″Have a safe flight,″ She smiles as Aidan and I walk side by side, towards our gate—not wanting to miss our flight.

My eyes wander to Aidan to find him holding onto his backpack in his right hand which causes me to furrow my brows, ″Let me help you with that.″ I gesture towards the bag but he pulls his hand away, just in time for me to grab it. ″Just let me help you with that, Aidan. Why are you being so stubborn?″

″I can handle it. Don’t worry,″ He says.

The flight back home appears to be slightly quiet as Aidan continues to stay asleep, not even bothered to glance at my direction or pay attention to any of the noises I make in order to wake him up. Truthfully, I just need a friend to talk to right now and being alone in a plane with no one else to talk to, annoys me.

″Can I get you anything, miss?″ The stewardess asks with a smile plastered on her face before glancing at Aidan, who seems to be in a deep sleep.

″No, I’m good. Thank you,″ I reply and she nods, walking away.

Just as I keep on staring at my best friend, I can’t help but realise that his lips are slightly apart but not wide enough to cause a distraction as he breathes, slowly. The way his hair is messily neat at the same time, making him look much more casual and relaxed than when he goes to work, it’s something fresh to look at.

Even though the whole time we were in Dallas was him wearing jeans or sweatpants and rocking his own messy hair, I can’t help but feel mesmerised by how he can wear or put on anything and still look very attractive.

It must’ve been the pills, the painkillers, causing him to be a little bit drowsy and I don’t really blame him because he needs all the rest he can get—knowing that he’s also a very busy man as soon as we land back in New York, he will start answering and making calls to arrange a few things, especially to make sure that his work ends up perfect.

As for me, I’ll be heading straight to the hospital tomorrow, wanting to check on Albert and my other patients—making sure that they’re fine when I was gone.

I turn to look at Aidan, seeing him leaning his head back to the seat before slowly falling onto my shoulder which causes me to freeze. My eyes widen at the exact moment, somehow confused—not exactly knowing what to do.

The way his eyes are closed and how calm he is currently breathing, I can’t help but notice how it’s actually a shame to wake him up just to make sure that he won’t be sleeping on my shoulder when there’s a lot of more space by his side; due to us being in a business class flight than a normal, economic one.

I press my index finger onto his temple before slowly pushing his head away which causes him to groan, leaning his head away from me as he slowly open his eyes, meeting mine.

″Good morning. Rise and shine!″ I say, jokingly.

Mmm, my head’s hurting. What time is it?″ He asks, leaning his head on the seat as he tries to reach out for his phone—squinting his eyes to take a better look at the lock screen.

″We’re arriving soon,″ I mutter as I press onto the ′home button′ on my phone, placing it down on my lap. ″You’ve been asleep for quite awhile ever since we departed,″ I add to find him running his fingers through his hair, trying to make them appear less messy.

He clears his throat, ″You weren’t sleeping?″

″No . . . no, I can’t seem to find any peace sleeping while you were snoring,″ I grin widely before tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear as he rolls his eyes at me.

That was clearly a lie—he doesn’t snore! I’ve never heard him snore before except for once but I could’ve just highly mistaken it with a snore when he was only breathing roughly, that was it. He has a great respiratory system and I can’t really tell him otherwise . . . he knows better about himself.

--

″Home sweet home,″ Aidan says as he lets out a breath of relief as soon as he enters the apartment, placing the keys in a small bowl—where he would usually place his eyes.

I close the door behind me after pulling in my suitcase, slowly moving to the side as he stands in the middle of the entrance; causing me to run towards the couch, missing the softness of it as soon as I land, ″Oh my god . . . this feels so good!″ I exclaim.

Just as I’m about to say something else, I hear a growling sound which causes me to lift my head and turn to look at him, immediately. His cheeks have redden from the sound coming from his stomach, ″Probably just gas . . . mind your own business, Kenna.″ He walks away as he pulls onto his suitcase, picking it up as walks into his bedroom.

Mind your own business, Kenna.″ I mimic as I roll my eyes.

I immediately make my way towards the kitchen, opening the cabinet to find myself staring at a packet of spaghetti—making me smile, thinking of making a bolognese for dinner. ″A little something to eat and head straight to bed, sounds like a perfect plan for tonight.″ I mutter under my breath, only loud enough to myself.

As I take off my jeans’ jacket and place it on the kitchen stool, I walk around the house in my white shirt and dark leggings to find my phone before heading towards the kitchen again, wanting to prepare the necessary ingredients to make a proper spaghetti.

I bend over the kitchen counter as I scroll down on my phone, nodding my head at the recipe; finding it simple.

My eyes wander towards the glass window to find that it’s currently raining heavily outside as I start to tie my hair up into a bun, letting all of the strands away from my face.

When it comes to cooking, I’m not exactly a great cook; can’t really compare myself to Aidan, he’s a chef in the kitchen—one of the little things that women find attractive and he’s sort of proud of himself just because he knows how to cook and what to cook. It’s true because whenever he cooks, I can’t help but feel excited and hoping for a special surprise on my tastebuds.

″A little bit of that and this,″ I mutter.

As my phone gives a notification as the battery is already ten percent, I start to groan before plugging in my charger into the nearest unused plug. Then, I plug it into my phone, slowly as I turn the switch on—immediately making a sound which causes the lights in the house to flicker off.

The sound of lightning shocks me as I freeze, waiting for it to pass.

″What the hell? Kenna, what the fuck?!″ I hear Aidan shouting from his room as he walks down the stairs, ″Kenna . . . what happened to the lights?″ He asks, slightly trembling as I furrow my brows, not expecting him to overreact just because there’s an electricity shot and my phone seemed to be dead, forever.

″My phone’s burning. Fuck!″ I groan, frustratingly.

″Kenna . . . where are you? I can’t see you,″ He breathes out, his voice further away from me as I try to find a flashlight but I can’t seem to find it anywhere.

″I’m in the kitchen!″ I answer as I notice everything else has gone silent, just the sound of his footsteps and our voices in the apartment. Other than that, the sound of the rain accompanying us in the night when the sun has set a couple of hours ago.

″Kenna?″ I hear his voice closer which causes me to turn around, focusing onto a dark figure near the wall as I make my way towards him, reaching out for his hand—that has gone cold, confusing me. ″That’s you, right?″ He asks, again.

I wrap both of my hands around his as I remain frowning.

″Why are you trembling? Why are you freezing?″ I ask, confused and slightly worried. Then, I start to realise that he’s currently sweating from the sudden blackout—causing me to push his hair away from his face as he tries to control his breathings.

He breathes out, ″I . . . I don’t do well with storms. Actually, I can’t deal with rains and lightnings at the same time.″ He replies, almost hesitating.

″How come I never know about this? You not knowing how to ride a bike and now you having fear of lightnings? You never told me before,″ I say as he grips onto my hand, tighter than before as we both stay still—me pulling him towards the living room, both sitting onto the couch as we wait for the lightnings and rain to stop.

″I thought it wasn’t necessary,″ He mutters.

″Which explains a lot why you don’t go out in the rain or why you always put your headphones on when there’s lightnings during the heavy raining,″ I furrow my brows, feeling him still trembling beside me—both of his eyes are closed as he tries to focus onto something else than the rain or the lightnings.

″I feel like a bad friend . . . ″ I mutter under my breath, causing him to clench his jaw.

″Why is that?″ He asks.

″I never knew about your fears or your weaknesses,″ I continue to speak; remembering back about the night in Dallas at the funfair when we were having a conversation and he told me about not knowing how to ride a bike.

He chuckles lightly, ″Weakness.″

I laugh, ″Oh, come on! You probably have more than one and you’re just trying to hide them all away because you’re already embarrassed about me finding out about it . . . slowly and little by little. It all started off with the bike thingy,″ I say.

Just as another lightning came to strike, I immediately place both of my hands on his ears as he closes his eyes, again—this time, he starts to lean closer towards me, possible enough for me to smell his cologne as I try to find a way to soothe him.

″It’s okay . . . it’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid, alright? I’m here with you and I’m going to stay here with you until the rain stops and the storm passes,″ I whisper in his ear as I cup onto his face, seeing him looking directly into my eyes before nodding a few times; assuring me that he needs me here in order to calm down.

We both lock ourselves in his room as he sits in the corner, further away from the windows with the music blasting loudly from his phone—wanting to make sure that he hears something else than the lightnings outside.

″How do you deal with it when you’re alone?″ I ask, looking at him.

He turns towards me, ″I start off by listening to music because that usually helps the most. I can’t help it, Kenna—when the rain starts pouring, I don’t start panicking but as soon as the lightnings strike . . . I’d feel as if I’m shaking and terrified,″ He breathes.

″You want to tell me why? You don’t have to but I want to know.″ I smile, leaning closer towards him as we both listen to the sound in the background; It’s Gotta Be You by Isaiah, one of our favourite songs when it first came out.

″I don’t know. There’s not a story behind it because I just hate the sound of it. The rain eases me but the storm . . . I’d panic right away.″ He looks at me, ″You’re not a bad friend, Kenna. It doesn’t mean that when you don’t know certain things about me, you’re already labelled as a bad friend because I wanted to hide those things from you. I wanted to appear as someone who can protect you and not the other way around,″ He continues.

″So . . . when you get scared or when you are sad, you’d always have me to turn to than finding someone else with no fears or weaknesses—I want you to find me and pour it all out. Unfortunately, I’m weaker than I look and my fears are pathetic.″ He frowns.

I immediately grab onto his hand as we start to entwine our fingers, ″Your fears are not pathetic, Aidan. They make you who you are and you should know that I wouldn’t look for anyone else to pour my problems because it has always been you . . . sometimes Dimitri but always you. You were always there for me and I can’t appreciate you more,″ I reply.

Aidan continues to look at me before slowly curving his lips up into a smile, in which I return without hesitation.

Just as we continue to look at one another, the lights start to flicker back on as the rain is slowly stopping—no more storm outside in the sky. I turn to look at him, seeing that he has managed to breathe properly again, calmer than when the lightnings were loud and clear.

″See? We got through just fine,″ I reassure him with a chuckle.

I make my way towards the kitchen to look at my phone, seeing that it has broken. The battery might’ve been dead from the sudden lightning attack earlier—making me groan in frustration, knowing that I’ll be needing a new phone as soon as possible.

″What happened to your phone?″ Aidan appears beside me, slowly making his way towards me as he looks down at my burnt phone; apparently, this was bound to happen. This phone has been with me through thick and thin . . . fell on thick surfaces and has managed to stay alive for all this time. Unfortunately, it’s already time for it to go.

Shit happens. You need a new plug, too.″ I let out a deep sigh before heading towards the living room after glancing at Aidan who seems a little bit surprised.

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