I smirked at Aidan who was looking back at me, his feelings shining out of his eyes. I lost my smile as Jane’s words from yesterday came back to haunt me. Was Aidan in love with me?

He was looking at me like he was in love with me.

To my annoyance, I found myself getting turned on at the thought, tingles prickling in places they weren’t invited, while my bra began to feel too tight.

I turned to Colin to break the intense eye contact. “You’re all pretty big guys.”

“Do you like rugby?”

“Honestly, I can take it or leave it.”

Colin smiled. “We can work with that. I’m telling you, darlin’, by the time we’re through with you, you’ll be a rugby fan.”

“By the time you’re through with me?”

“Well, once Aidan’s convinced you to forgive him for being a pure bastard, we expect to see you around more.” He clapped Aidan supportively on the shoulders, deftly handled three of the pints, and walked them over to their friends.

I glowered at Aidan. “You told them?”

“They wanted to know why my friendship with Laine is over.”

Understanding that her betrayal was so much harder for him than it ever could be for me, I offered, “I’m sorry, Aidan. I know you were friends a long time.”

“Aye, well, no one can believe it.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to dwell on it. I want to move on.”

“So do I.”

“Nora!”

I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment and turned in the direction of the yell. Kieran glared at me from the other end of the bar.

“Want to stop flirting and help us out?”

Flushing, I pushed away from the counter. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll be over there.” Aidan grabbed his pint and pointed to the table.

Knowing there was little I could say to make him change his mind, I nodded and moved to serve a customer.

For the rest of the night, however, I felt him, even when he was engaged with his friends and not even looking over. I felt him. And I couldn’t get the look of sadness in his eyes out of my head.

Aidan had lost so much in such a short time, and back then we’d connected because I understood that like no one else had.

I was afraid of losing who I’d become—someone I liked, someone I respected—if I started a relationship with a man who had, unwittingly, made me question my self-worth with regard to his affection. But I was also afraid for Aidan. And I wondered if he needed someone to talk to.

I still cared too much.

Forgetting it was April, I made the stupid decision to trust that the sun was out and it was an unseasonably warm spring evening. Having stayed at the university library to work, I made my way to the theater the following week dressed only in ballet flats, a summer dress, and a cardigan. As I left the library and walked onto The Meadows, I saw the dark clouds roll overhead in warning.

“Please don’t rain,” I murmured under my breath.

But my pleading fell on deaf ears.

The rain lashed down in diagonal sheets that battered and plastered my hair and clothes to my skin. Shrieks erupted as park-goers got caught in the downpour, and I lifted my bag to cover my head and started to run toward Gilmore Place.

My shoes slipped on the slick sidewalk, and I cursed as I narrowly avoided face-planting in the middle of the road. Stalled by traffic lights on the corner of Leven and Home Street, I ignored the sympathetic smile of a driver as she passed and catcalls of the guys in the car behind her as they drove by.

I glanced down at myself, flushing at the way my clothes molded to my body.

Brilliant.

There was no use hoping that Aidan wouldn’t be at rehearsal to see me like this. Although he hadn’t turned up at the pub on my next shift, he had promised to see me at rehearsal, and on Monday, he was there. To flirt with me. Charm me. And generally piss off Quentin and Amanda (who was not too thrilled about Aidan’s focused attention). Though it was annoying, the other half of me, as we all knew, was a weakling who loved his attention.

I eventually got across the street and ran down Gilmore, splashing dirty puddle water up my bare legs.

I pushed at the doors to the building, expecting them to swing open, and grunted when they resisted. Grabbing the oversized doorknobs, I shoved again.

Nothing.

I rattled them.

Nothing.

What the ever loving …

Shivering, I ducked under the tiny overhang of the building and looked up and down the street for signs of my fellow company members.

No one.

Sighing in exasperation, I rummaged through my bag, digging past papers and books, to find my phone. I flicked through my messages for any explanation of why the theater doors were locked when it was time to start the damn rehearsals. Nothing.

Cursing, I hit call on Quentin’s name.

“What?” he answered on the third ring.

“Where is everyone?” I said without preamble. “The doors to the building are locked.”

“You’re at rehearsals?” he asked, sounding as irritated as I felt. “Terence, you were supposed to text everyone!”

“I did text everyone!” I heard Terence’s distant yell.

“Well, you didn’t text Nora, you wretch!”

“I did text Nora!”

“He didn’t text me.” My teeth started to chatter. “What’s going on?”

“I broke my bloody foot last night.”

Concern distracted me from the cold. “How?”

“Terence left a shoe on the stairs. Suffice it to say he’s now my personal go-fetch boy. Anyway, I’m in a little of bit of pain, so I moved rehearsals to Saturday midday, much to everyone’s disgruntlement. Very kind. Our cast and crew, I mean. Very concerned. That was sarcasm. They were mewling villains, the whole lot of them.”

“I hope you’re okay.”

“Of course, you do, Nora, you’re a sweetheart. Sorry, Terence is such a complete and utter wanker sometimes. I hope you didn’t get caught in the downpour.”

“No, I’m fine,” I lied. “Feel better. See you Saturday.”

We hung up, and I wrapped my arms around myself, praying a taxi would appear so I wouldn’t have to run out into the deluge again. I shivered and shook like a wet dog, feeling miserable and sorry for myself, when a dark green Range Rover turned down the street and stopped outside the building.

The window rolled down on the passenger side and Aidan’s face appeared. “Get in!” he yelled through the rain.

My heart pounded so hard in my chest, I couldn’t move much less react to his sudden appearance.

“Nora, get in!” This time he sounded annoyed and it broke me out of my stupor. Whether I’d decided I’d rather be in his company than catch the flu, or if it was merely an excuse to be near him without feeling like I was betraying myself, I didn’t know.

I gripped my bag and flew down the steps toward his SUV.

Warmth suffused me as I bundled into the passenger seat and closed the door. He had the heating turned all the way up.

“Your seats,” I said, avoiding looking him in the eye.

“Like I give a fuck about my seats right now. You’re soaked.”

“Just a little.” My teeth chattered. “Or a lot.”

Cursing under his breath, he took off back into traffic. “You didn’t get the text that rehearsal was moved?”

“Apparently, I was the only one.”

“Well, thank God I was on my way home from the studio and decided to swing by in case someone didn’t get the memo.”

“Yeah, good thinking.” I still couldn’t look at him. “New car?”

“Aye.”

I sat quietly, shivering, as he drove to Fountainbridge. “I don’t suppose you could drop me off at my place?”

“By the time we get there, you could fall ill,” he said impatiently.

Worry gnawed at me as he parked in the garage beneath his building and hopped out of the car to come around to my side. “Aidan, I’m fine,” I said as he opened the door and held his hand out to me.

When he refused to move out of the way, I had no choice but to take his hand.