Infatuation [a.h.]

chapter 6

"I'm in such deep shit," you admitted as you leaned back on the couch, resting your head on the headrest.

"Care to elaborate or are you just going to bottle up whatever it is that is going on in that pretty, little head of yours?" Esmé teased.

You rolled your eyes, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do." You took a deep breath, accepting your current situation for what it was turning out to be. "I may or may not be developing a crush on Aaron," you admitted.

"I fucking knew it!" Esmé hollered. She clapped her hands together slowly, almost in a mocking sort of way. "I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to actually tell yourself that that was what was going on with you."

You tucked your knees against your chest and turned to look at Esmé. "I just feel like something has changed. He's..." you paused trying to think of the proper way to describe the way Aaron had been acting around you lately. "I don't know. He's just different. He doesn't seem like he wants to be so closed off anymore. If anything, I feel like wants to open up to me in some way, shape or form."

"What exactly do you mean by different though? Different as in the way he's acting around you or the way he talks?"

"Everything." You played with the hem of your shirt, taking your gaze away from Esmé as you prepared yourself in anticipation of her reaction to the events that unfolded that day. "He cooked dinner for me tonight. Well, I mean, it was Jack's idea to have me stay but then Aaron insisted too. "

"He cooked for you? Like actually cooked? Didn't order take out or make something out of the freezer?" Esmé asked, clearly shocked that Aaron went through that kind of effort.

"Yes, E. He cooked." Your lips turned up into a small smile thinking of Aaron in the kitchen, whipping up the pasta dish.

"Please tell me it was actually good food and not some lame attempt at a recipe," Esmé said, interlocking her hands together in a pleading motion.

You thought back to the dinner that Aaron made. The dish absolutely exceeded any sort of expectations you had when it came to the thought of Aaron being a cook. The flavors, the way the pasta was perfectly cooked.

"So good," you whispered quietly as you shut your eyes, thinking of the pasta.

"Y/N, I think our Mr. Aaron Hotchner is smitten." Your eyes shot open, practically bulging out of your head.

"There's no way. He couldn't possibly. I'm just the person who watches his kid."

Esmé  furrowed her brows, trying to think of where to take the conversation next. "Question, Y/N. Was there wine involved?" 

You nodded your head silently.

Esmé held her pointer finger up in the air in the manner that someone would when they were struck with a solution to a problem. "Smitten!" was all she let you.

"I think you're just overreacting here. And besides, it's just a silly little crush. I'll get over it," you said, knowing deep down that there was a slim to none chance that you would actually get over it anytime soon.

And a part of you still hoped that something would come out of it.

———

Across town, Aaron was settling in for the night. He just got done tucking in Jack, who couldn't stop talking about dinner.

"I'm glad Y/N stayed tonight. She's fun," he said sleepily as he tucked the blanket tight underneath his chin.

Aaron smiled down at his son as he sat down on the edge of the small twin bed. "She is fun, isn't she?" He ran his hand across Jack's forehead, brushing the loose strands of hair out of his face.