13. Aiden

CHAPTER 13

Aiden

It’d been a couple of days since the almost-kiss, and things with Levi had gone from awkward to downright unbearable. I’d told myself that being upfront about the whole insta-lust thing would clear the air—you know, be the adult in the room. Cards on the table, no confusion, just two grown men confessing their attraction but agreeing to keep things professional. That was the plan. But if Levi’s behavior since then was any indication, my genius plan had completely backfired.

I glanced out the window of the chalet, ostensibly to give my eyes a break from the endless parade of fonts and color palettes on my laptop screen. In reality, I’d been looking out more than I’d been working. There he was, striding across the snow-dusted field, dragging a bundle of something heavy over one shoulder. Manual labor shouldn’t look so good on anyone. It wasn’t fair.

His flannel shirt stretched tight across his back, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that should have been illegal. Every flex of muscle as he moved seemed calculated to wreck my concentration. And judging by the heat pooling in my chest—and lower—it was working.

I yanked my attention back to my laptop, cheeks burning even though no one was around to see. Focus, Aiden. Logos don’t design themselves. But it was no use. My mind kept replaying the way Levi had been acting since our conversation. He’d been… distant. More than distant. It was like he was going out of his way to avoid being in the same room with me for longer than a minute.

Sure, he was being polite. He always was. “Morning, Aiden,” with a nod. “Let me know if you need anything,” over his shoulder as he left the room. But that was it. No teasing smiles, no lingering glances, no casually brushing against me like he had before. I’d gotten used to those moments without even realizing it, and now that they were gone, the absence was like a hollow ache I couldn’t shake.

I rubbed the back of my neck, sighing as I stared blankly at the screen. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe the whole “letting him down easy” thing was just what he needed to recalibrate and move on. So why did it feel like I was being punished?

Last night, Nicholas and Markus dragged me out for dinner. They’d meant well, and I’d plastered on a smile the entire night, but my heart wasn’t in it. I’d spent most of the meal replaying every awkward interaction with Levi in my head, dissecting his every word and trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong. Was it something I said? Something I didn’t say? Or was it just that I’d ruined everything by admitting there was a spark between us in the first place?

I pushed my chair back and stood, stretching as I tried to shake off the restlessness coiled in my chest. The last thing I needed was to fall into another spiral of overthinking. Maybe some fresh air would help. Or at least give me a better excuse to stare at Levi without a pane of glass between us.

But as I reached for my coat, my gaze landed on the coffee table. My coloring book sat open, a box of fresh markers next to it. The page I’d been working on—an intricate snow globe— stared back at me, half the snowflakes already done in blue and silver.

I hesitated, my fingers brushing the fabric of my coat. Did I really need to go outside? Or was it just an excuse to pine after Levi like some lovesick idiot?

With a sigh, I dropped back onto the couch instead, pulling the coloring book toward me. Fresh air could wait. Right now, I needed something to quiet my mind, and coloring always did the trick.

Grabbing a marker, I leaned forward and got to work. The familiar scratch of ink on paper and the smooth glide of the marker soothed some of the tension in my chest. I’d always loved coloring, the way it quieted my mind and gave me permission to just… be. No deadlines, no expectations, just me and the colors. It was a little thing—literally—but it made everything else seem less overwhelming.

I got lost on the page, so lost that a sharp knock on the door startled me. I froze, the marker hovering over the page. Who?—

Another knock, and I set the marker down reluctantly, pushing myself up from the couch. When I opened the door, Levi stood there, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His mom, Carol, was right beside him, her face lit with the kind of warm, determined smile only moms could pull off. And I was suddenly self-conscious about the cozy chaos of the chalet—blankets piled on the couch, a half-built gingerbread house on the counter, and Christmas music playing softly in the background.

“Aiden!” she said brightly, clasping her hands together. “We were just talking about you. I told Levi it’s ridiculous for you to be cooped up in this chalet all the time. You must join us for dinner tonight.”

Levi shifted awkwardly, his gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder. “Mom, he’s probably busy,” he muttered.

“Nonsense,” Carol replied, swatting his arm. “Everyone needs a good meal and some company. Besides, I’ve already set a place for you, Aiden. You can’t say no.”

I glanced between the two of them, my stomach twisting. Levi still wouldn’t look at me, and the last thing I wanted was to make things more awkward. But the hopeful look on Carol’s face made it impossible to refuse. “Uh, sure,” I said finally. “Thank you. That sounds nice.”

“Wonderful!” Carol beamed. “Dinner’s at six. Don’t be late.”

She turned and headed back toward the main house, leaving Levi and me standing there. He scratched the back of his neck, still avoiding my eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said quietly. “She’s… persistent.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, even though my nerves were already starting to hum. “I’ll see you up there.”

Levi nodded and turned to follow his mom, his shoulders tense as he walked away.

I closed the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly. Dinner with Levi and his family. What could possibly go wrong?

By the time I made it up to the main house, my nerves were in full swing. I’d changed into something semi-presentable—a sweater and jeans that didn’t look like I still hadn't bothered unpacking my suitcase—but it didn’t do much to calm the jittery energy in my chest. When I stepped inside, the warm buzz of conversation and laughter washed over me, and I hesitated in the doorway.

Carol spotted me first. “Aiden! Come in, come in,” she said, ushering me inside. “Everyone, this is Aiden. He’s been staying in one of the chalets.”

Levi was across the room, talking to a couple of guys who looked a few years younger than him. His cousins, maybe? He glanced up when he heard my name, his eyes meeting mine for a brief, charged moment before he looked away.

“Aiden, these are Levi and Paige’s cousins, Brandon and Cody,” Carol said, gesturing to the two men. “They’re from LA, just like we are.”

Brandon, the taller of the two, offered an easy grin and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Aiden. Welcome to the family circus.”

“Thanks,” I said, shaking his hand.

Cody, a little shorter but just as friendly, gave me a nod and added, “Yeah, it’s good to finally meet the guy our aunt’s been raving about.” He glanced over at Levi, his expression unreadable. Levi met his gaze with a look that seemed to say something only Cody could understand. Their silent exchange left me to wonder what they were really saying.

“Oh, really?” I shot a curious glance toward Carol, who was practically beaming.

“He’s an artist,” Carol chimed in, her tone full of pride as if I’d just unveiled a masterpiece. “He does graphic design. Isn’t that fascinating?”

Brandon tilted his head, pretending to study me. “Artist, huh? You got one of those moody, tortured souls, or are you the ‘I need more coffee to function’ kind?”

“Can’t it be both?” I joked, earning a laugh from Cody.

“You’ll fit right in,” Cody said with a grin.

The room buzzed with warmth and laughter, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from years of shared history. I found myself relaxing, just a little, as the conversation flowed around me. But every time Levi came into view, my pulse jumped. And every time his gaze flicked to mine—brief, cautious, charged—it felt like the air between us crackled.

It was time for dinner not long later and we drifted toward the dining table. Levi hesitated, then pulled out a chair for me. His mere proximity sent a shiver throughout my body, and I had to look away before it showed on my face.

The meal was as good as it smelled—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and warm rolls. Conversation flowed easily around the table, Levi’s family chatting about the farm, the town, and their plans for the holiday season. It was torture trying to concentrate on what was said since Levi sat opposite me.