Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 65

Aria's POV

Aiden ended his call quickly and set the phone aside.

I watched nervously as he picked up the fork and began eating the noodles I'd made.

Even doing something as ordinary as eating instant noodles, he managed to look impossibly elegant - back straight, movements precise, not a single drop spilled.

The silence stretched between us until I couldn't stand it anymore. My brain scrambled for something—anything—to say.

"So... what do you think of Claire?" I blurted out, immediately wanting to smack myself. Real smooth, Aria.

Aiden paused mid-bite, his dark eyes finding mine. "Claire?"

"You know, the woman your aunt and uncle were practically throwing at you tonight," I clarified, trying to sound casual while my heart hammered against my ribs.

He resumed eating, face betraying nothing. "I don't think anything of her."

"She's very beautiful," I continued, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve. "Most men would find her attractive."

"I'm not most men."

I swallowed hard. "Do you have a type, then?" God, could I be any more obvious?

Aiden set his fork down with deliberate precision, his eyes suddenly laser-focused on me. "Are you jealous, Aria?"

"What? No!" I sputtered, heat rushing to my face. "Absolutely not! I'm just making conversation!"

The slight curve at the corner of his lips vanished, replaced by something quieter.

More guarded. His gaze lingered on me for a second too long, unreadable.

"I see," he said, voice flat now.

He looked away and picked up the last bite of noodles, then placed his fork down for good. "I'm done. The noodles were good."

Was he…angry?

I bit the inside of my cheek, my heart doing this weird little flip.

I hadn't meant to sound dismissive. I was just flustered. Embarrassed. But now I couldn't stop thinking—did I push too far? Did I say the wrong thing?

"I'll take that," I said quickly, reaching for his bowl—more out of instinct than anything else.

I wasn't even really thinking. My mind was still back at that shift in his voice, replaying it over and over as I leaned in.

And then—thud.

Our foreheads collided.

"Oh!" I jerked back, mortified. "Sorry, I was just trying to get the bowl."

Instead of moving away, Aiden raised his hand and gently pressed his fingers against my forehead, examining the spot where we'd bumped. "Let me see if it's swollen."

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