Keeley took a deep breath, steeling herself as she stood before Aaron's gigantic, luxurious apartment complex. Entering meant there was no turning back. Unfortunately, she couldn't doorbell ditch him; she lacked the elevator key. Her plan: enter, pet the cat for a few minutes, and leave, claiming she had homework (which was true).

She stepped into the grand lobby and approached the doorman. "Hi, I'm here to see Aaron Hale. He lives in the penthouse."

The doorman, seemingly recognizing her from previous visits, remained professional. "Your name, miss?"

"Keeley Hall."

He excused himself to the back room—presumably to call Aaron—and returned quickly.

"Right this way, Miss Hall."

He used his key to access the elevator before exiting, wishing her a good day.

Gripping her pan of brownies tightly, she ascended, floor after floor. She wasn't ready to be back in his "lair."

The elevator doors opened with a ding, revealing an empty apartment. The elevator opened directly into his apartment—hence the key—but he was nowhere in sight.

This was good. She'd simply sneak the brownies into the kitchen and leave unnoticed.

Keeley crept upstairs, quiet as a mouse, praying he wouldn't see her. Her prayer went unanswered. Aaron sat at the kitchen table, waiting.

"Hi, Aaron," she said with a resigned smile. "I brought your brownies; we're even now."

He peeled back the foil. A pleased expression crossed his face. "They look delicious, thank you. Sit down. Would you like some milk?"

"Uh, sure." He seemed awfully solicitous.

Dinah trotted in, jumping onto the table to sniff and headbutt Keeley's hand. Molly did the same.

"Hey, pretty girls," Keeley greeted, then whispered, "Is this human glacier taking care of you properly?"

The cats yawned and settled down for a nap. At least they seemed happy and well-adjusted. Her opinion of Aaron rose slightly. He might have been a rotten husband, but he was a good cat owner. That counted for something.

Aaron made two trips to fetch milk, plates, and a spatula. He cut a brownie for each of them before sitting down.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

After eating half his brownie, he asked formally, "Did you have a nice Halloween?"

She'd had worse.

"It was okay. Did you end up watching A Nightmare on Elm Street?"

It was the movie she'd suggested. They'd watched it together on their first Halloween, and she'd had nightmares for a week, eventually begging him to stay so she wouldn't wake up alone—and he had. It was a fond memory.

He nodded, his mouth full.

"It was an interesting concept," he said, swallowing. "The blurred lines between dream and reality."

He sounded as if he were discussing any old film, not one of the scariest in the American horror genre. Did anything scare this guy?

"Did it scare you at all?"

"No. Real life is much scarier than the movies."

A cryptic statement. Her curiosity won. "How so?"

"Movies are unrealistic. People know those things won't happen to them; they watch for entertainment. In real life, you have to deal with the unpredictability of human nature. Humanity is inherently selfish, and selfishness can lead to disaster."

Sadness briefly clouded his neutral expression. She wasn't sure if she imagined it.

This was pessimistic. Had Aaron always been such a downer? No, he'd been more neutral before. What had changed?

"Not everyone is like that."

A soft smile appeared, startling her. "I know. You're not."

Keeley's heart stopped. A genuine compliment, accompanied by a real smile?

She felt guilty for wanting to escape when he seemed genuinely happy. This wasn't like her Aaron at all. Maybe she'd been unfair, clinging to past grievances.

"I'm not as good as you think," she mumbled, looking down.

"Be nice. You're the best person I know."

She looked up in disbelief. He was exaggerating! She was always mean to him!

"…have you forgotten that I've never hidden my dislike for you?"

His cold, dark eyes glinted—perhaps with amusement.

"No. But at least you're honest. That's more than can be said for most people I know. You don't suck up to me or hide your true intentions. It's refreshing."

Confusion overwhelmed her. He seemed serious. Was this why he bothered with her? Because she was candid?

It was different than she'd thought. She'd believed he was messing with her, trying to make her bend to his will. He wanted genuine interaction. What a novel concept.

Aaron, like anyone, wanted a real connection. He went about it poorly, but his intentions weren't terrible. This changed her perception.

Had her former Aaron liked her for the same reason? A lump formed in her throat. Even if so, it wouldn't make him truly care. This Aaron would lose interest, too, just as she'd hoped.

"You're weird. Nobody else would find someone being mean to them refreshing." She made a face to hide her true feelings.

"I never claimed I wasn't weird," he said lightly, finishing his brownie.

The final sentence, "Search the nôᴠel Fire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality," is an advertisement and has been removed as it is not part of the story.