46

OLIVIA

Aiden's deep brown eyes rake over my body from head to toe.

We stand so close that our chests were almost touching.

I return his gaze, scanning him from head to toe too. I am not going to let him be the only one doing the looking.

His hands are shoved in his pockets. He wears a pair of denim jeans and a white T-shirt with the inscription "I don't really give a flying fuck."

Of course, what else do I expect from him?

He is Aiden Blacksmith, after all, and he does not give a flying fuck.

His brows furrow. "Where are you headed?" He probes, a puzzled look on his face.

"Nowhere," I reply, a deep crease forming between my brows.

"So, you were just dancing around the door for no reason?" He probes, giving me a "you are nuts" look.

I lift my shoulder in a half shrug. "Are you here to question me or something?" I ask.

"No," He answers with a shake of his head.

"Then, mind your own business," I shoot back.

"Your attitude is just so... cute sometimes," He mutters under his breath.

I