Chapter 85: New Preposition - Spoilt Princess Reincarnate As a Waitress - NovelsTime

Spoilt Princess Reincarnate As a Waitress

Chapter 85: New Preposition

Author: lucy_mumbua
updatedAt: 2026-01-26

CHAPTER 85: NEW PREPOSITION

Alexia’s POV

After my delicious dinner—which, let’s be honest, I barely tasted because I was too busy berating myself—I sat there, stewing in my own thoughts.

I should have acted like nothing happened.

I should have been cool, detached, unbothered—like Aiden. He had walked in here, looked me dead in the face, and carried on like today was just another Tuesday. Meanwhile, here I was, losing my damn mind.

Of course, he wasn’t affected. He was used to this.

Unlike me.

Fuck.

I needed ice cream.

Because if I was going to suffer through this mess, I was at least going to do it with sugar in my system.

I stood up, marched to the kitchen, and grabbed the biggest scoop I could find. If I couldn’t control my emotions, at least I could control how much dessert I ate.

Small wins.

Now, all I had to do was make it through the night without overthinking, go to my couch of a bed, and pretend my world hadn’t just tilted off its axis.

Sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging as I dug my spoon into the tub of ice cream, I continued my little mental breakdown.

Because seriously—why was I like this?

Why was I sitting here, overanalyzing every second of today’s event while Aiden was upstairs probably sleeping like a damn baby? Like he hadn’t just completely wrecked me and walked away unbothered?

Was I that easy to forget?

I scowled, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, the cold barely numbing the frustration bubbling in my chest.

Maybe that was just how it was for him—just another day, just another woman.

But for me?

It wasn’t just anything.

I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

I wasn’t supposed to want him again.

And yet, here I was, letting my thoughts spiral over a man who clearly had no problem going about his life like last night never happened.

God, he even had the nerve to chuckle at me earlier. Chuckle! Like I was some amusing little joke.

I groaned, dropping my spoon into the tub and pressing my hands against my face.

This was humiliating.

Maybe I should have just played it cool. Laughed it off, shrugged, said, "Hey, Aiden, great performance. 10/10. See you never."

But no

, my dumbass had to let my emotions slip, had to let him see that I cared—if even a little.

That was the mistake.

Because if there was one thing I knew about Aiden, it was that he never let emotions get in the way of anything.

So why the hell was I?

******

I was sulking. There was no better way to describe it.

Munching my stupidity away with spoonfuls of ice cream, I sat on the kitchen counter, trying—and failing—to erase the mess of emotions swirling in my head. But of course, just when I thought I had a moment to myself, fate had to play a cruel joke.

Because guess who walked into the kitchen?

No, not William. That would have been far less tormenting.

It was him.

The man who had thoroughly messed with my head. The man whose touch was still imprinted on my skin, even though he had walked away like it had meant nothing.

And just to make things worse, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

The dim glow of the kitchen light cast soft shadows on his sculpted chest, his sweatpants hanging way too low on his hips, revealing that dangerous V-line that led straight to sin.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was the smirk he wore—the lazy, knowing smirk of a man who had no idea just how much havoc he was wreaking on my already fragile sanity.

I quickly averted my gaze, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth as if the cold could cool down the heat creeping up my body.

"I thought you had slept off," I blurted out, desperate to break the thick silence.

Aiden leaned against the kitchen doorframe, his arms crossed, his smirk deepening as he watched me. I forced my eyes away, pretending to be fascinated by literally anything else.

He chuckled—low, deep, and utterly unfair. Then, he started walking toward me.

Why is he coming closer?

My heart picked up speed—beating so hard it might as well have been the Jumanji drums.

"I was waiting for you," he said, his voice calm, teasing. "Noticed you weren’t coming to bed, so I came to see what you were doing."

Bed?

Waiting for me?

I swallowed hard, gripping my spoon like it was some kind of lifeline. Say something, Alexia!

But my mind short-circuited, and before I could form a coherent thought, he reached out—

And opened the fridge.

I exhaled sharply, realizing only then that I had been holding my breath.

Aiden grabbed a bottle of water, twisted the cap off, and tilted his head back as he drank.

And I—like the idiot that I was—watched.

Watched the way his strong jaw flexed. Watched the way his throat moved, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Watched everything.

God help me.

"Were you expecting me to choke on it?"

Aiden’s voice, laced with amusement, snapped me out of my trance. My eyes darted up to meet his, and I instantly regretted it.

He was smirking again.

He knew.

Embarrassment flooded me, and I quickly shook my head. "N-no! I was just—"

"Uh-huh."

Smug bastard.

"To answer your earlier question," he continued, capping the now empty bottle and placing it on the counter, "yes, I was waiting for you. To propose a proposition."

A proposition?

I barely had time to process that before he closed the distance between us, stepping directly in front of me.

My breath hitched.

"Aiden..." My voice came out uneven as I instinctively leaned back. "What pre—what are you doing?"

But he didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached for my legs—his hands firm yet slow as he spread them apart and stepped between them, positioning himself right between my thighs.

I gasped softly, heat crawling up my neck.

His hands stayed on my thighs, thumbs stroking absentminded circles against my skin.

I think my brain officially stopped working.

"Getting comfortable before I tell you my proposition," he murmured, his voice lower, rougher—like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

A shiver ran down my spine.

"Do you mind feeding your husband some of your ice cream?"

Husband?

Husband?!

Aiden was seducing me.

The cold, manipulative CEO who didn’t let emotions get in the way of anything was sitting here, hands on my thighs, looking at me like I was his next meal.

This wasn’t real.

Maybe my ice cream was spiked with something, because there was no way this was happening.

But then his fingers tightened ever so slightly on my skin, grounding me in reality.

And my entire body—traitorous, weak, pathetic—responded.

I could barely breathe.

This was dangerous.

This was very dangerous.

But God help me...

I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop.

Okay. Breathe.

No big deal. Just Aiden standing between my legs, hands on my thighs, looking at me like I was something he wanted to devour.

Yeah. No big deal at all.

My fingers tightened around the ice cream tub, my grip borderline deadly. I needed an anchor, something to stop me from spiraling because my body was betraying me in real-time. My heart was pounding, my skin heating, and my stupid brain? Yeah, that had left the chat.

"Ice cream, Alexia," Aiden murmured, his voice an octave lower than usual. "Are you going to feed me or just keep staring at me like that?"

Like that? Like what?

My mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. Nothing came out.

This man was going to kill me.

His fingers skimmed lazily over my thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping into my skin, making it impossible to think straight.

I had two options.

Act like this wasn’t affecting me, shove a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, and pretend I was unbothered. Continue sitting here like an idiot, letting him watch me slowly combust.

Option 1. I had to go with option 1.

With a shaky hand, I scooped up a spoonful of ice cream and held it up to his lips. Unbothered. Cool. Collected.

Aiden smirked, and instead of just taking the bite like a normal human being, he leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the spoon way too slowly, his tongue flicking against the cold dessert before he pulled away.

I stopped breathing.

Literally. Stopped breathing.

He hummed low in his throat, savoring the taste, his eyes locked on mine as he swallowed.

"Not bad," he mused. "But I think I’d rather taste it from your lips."

My brain short-circuited.

Aiden chuckled, clearly amused by my state. "Relax, Alexia. You’re turning red."

I was turning red. My entire body felt like it was overheating, and this stupid ice cream wasn’t helping.

I scowled, shoving another spoonful in my mouth, trying to play it cool. "You said you had a proposition," I mumbled, desperate to change the subject.

His smirk deepened. "I do."

I swallowed. "Okay...?"

He leaned in, his lips just inches from my ear, and when he spoke, his voice was so low and smooth, it sent a shiver down my spine.

"Let’s keep doing this."

I blinked. "Doing what?"

"This," he said, his fingers tightening slightly on my thighs. "You. Me. Together. No strings attached. Just... benefits."

I forgot how to function.

He pulled back, watching me, waiting for a response, but my brain was still buffering because—what?

Aiden wanted... this? With me? Regularly?

Like a friends-with-benefits kind of thing?

I should say no.

I should push him away, tell him we were already in a mess and adding more complications would only make things worse.

But his touch, his scent, the way he was looking at me like he knew I wanted it too...

Shit.

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