Текст книги "The Wall of Winnipeg and Me"

Автор книги: Mariana Zapata

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

Chapter Twenty

“Zac! Are you almost ready?” I yelled down the hall as I shoved my heel into my running shoe.

“I’m putting on my shoes, Mrs. Graves!”

Idiot. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.” I told him as I slipped my other one on.

“Okay,” he yelled back just as I hit the stairs. Down them and into the kitchen, I found Aiden sitting in the breakfast nook with a big glass of something brown and funky looking in front of him that I’d bet a kidney had some kind of bean and vegetable in it.

Heading to the refrigerator to get a sip of water before the start of our jog, I asked over my shoulder, “Big guy, do you want anything from the fridge while I’m up?”

“No thanks.”

It was Monday afternoon after the Three Hundreds played an away game the day before. The poor guy had gotten home from Maryland at four o’clock in the morning, and he’d had to drag himself out of bed at nine to meet up with the team’s trainers, then sat through one meeting after another. His body language expressed just how exhausted he was. How could he not be?

I filled half my glass with water and chugged it down. Across the room, Aiden finally took his attention away from the current puzzle he was finishing, and asked, “Where are you two going?”

“For a run.”

“Why is he going with you?” he plainly asked, a crease forming between his eyebrows. His long fingers seemed to swallow the puzzle piece in his hand.

“I talked him into doing the marathon with me.” Was this really the first time he’d seen us leaving?

Something about what I said must have intrigued him because his head jerked back and what looked like the beginning of a laugh took over his mouth. “He’s going to run a marathon?”

Well that sounded insulting even to my ears. The fact that Zac walked into the kitchen the moment Aiden began his question, didn’t help the situation any. He scrunched up his nose as he cast his ex-teammate a long look. “Yeah.”

“You have the worst cardio I’ve ever seen,” Mr. No Social Skills claimed, not at all embarrassed that he’d been overheard.

I couldn’t disagree with him there. Considering Zac was an elite athlete, the first few times we’d gone running together was like going with a clone of myself during those initial two months after I’d decided I wanted to start training. I hadn’t even been able to get two miles done without severe knee pain and panting, and I’d thought that was pretty good.

Zac, on the other hand, made it seem like I was leading him across the Mojave Desert barefoot and without water.

“I do not,” he argued. “Why are you nodding, Van?”

I stopped what I was doing. “You do—oww! You didn’t have to pinch me.” I glared at who I thought was my friend, suddenly standing right next to me. “You do have terrible endurance. Your breathing has been worse than mine.”

“I can do a marathon if I want to.” Zac’s cheeks turned slightly pink as I tried to back away from him to avoid getting pinched again.

“Of course you can. Your breathing just blows right now.” I slapped him on the back, dodging out of his reach a second later. “Let’s get this over with,” I said, making sure I was at least five feet away from him at all times. “Let me pee first though, Forrest Gump.”

Zac laughed, half-assed lunging at me one more time.

I jumped back. I casually noticed Aiden out of my peripheral vision looking at me. Specifically my legs. My tights were all dirty and I’d had to dig out a pair of shorts from my drawer that I hadn’t worn in years. They were too tight and too short, and I’d had to put on a baggy T-shirt so the elastic band digging into my stomach and hips wouldn’t be noticeable. I’d lost almost fifteen pounds since I’d started running, but I still didn’t have anything close to a six-pack.

So I was a little surprised when those thick eyebrows knit together, his gaze focusing. “What happened to your leg, Van?”

I’d worn skirts and dresses around him on a few occasions when I worked for him. I had always figured he just hadn’t cared to find out where I’d gotten the scarring that went from above my knee to below it. Hell, I’d been wearing cut-offs when we’d gotten stuck in the elevator together and sat in his lap afterward. His hand had been on my knee. How hadn’t he noticed?

Now I realized he hadn’t even looked at it.

I didn’t care that it wasn’t pretty, and I’d never tried to hide it. It was my badge of honor. My daily reminder of all the physical pain I’d gone through, of all the anger I’d had to get under control, and what I’d done with it. I’d finished school. I got back on my feet. I’d accomplished my goal of growing my business and venturing out on my own. No one else had done it for me but me. I’d saved. I’d worked. I’d persevered. Me. No one else.

And if I could do all that, when I was strong and when I was weak, I could remember it and let it lead me. My achy knee never let me forget what we’d been through in the last eight years.

I made my way out of the kitchen because the truth wasn’t a big deal. “I got hit by a car.”

I just usually didn’t tell people that it was my sister who’d been the driver.

By the time Zac and I made it out of the house, the sun had just started to hang low in the horizon. We jogged steadily for six miles one way before turning around to get back home. That last two miles on the way home we used as our cool down. After we’d caught our breaths, Big Texas abruptly snorted and asked, “How the hell hadn’t Aiden noticed your knee ‘til today?”

I let out a sharp snicker. “I was wondering the exact same thing.”

“Jesus, Vanny, I think I noticed it the first week you started workin’ for him.” He shook his head. “He doesn’t notice stuff that’s not football related unless it smacks him in the face.”

It was true.

Then he said, “Like you.”

And it was like something crashed down on my shoulders. Not necessarily a bad thing, but the truth was like a boa. It could be this heavy snake that could wrap around your neck and kill you, or it could be a feather boa, a nice, fun accessory to your life. In this case, I was going to force myself to take the truth in the form of the feather version. I’d already faced reality and that reality was the one Aiden had admitted to me: he hadn’t appreciated me until I left.

It was what it was. You couldn’t force someone to care about you or love you. I knew that way too well.

But Aiden was a man who only loved one thing, and if you weren’t that one thing, too bad. It was all he’d known for so long, he hadn’t looked in his peripherals at everything else surrounding him. I could accept that nothing else was anywhere near as important as football. What I wasn’t able to do was wrap my head around what Leslie had said regarding Aiden’s grandparents and the grief he’d gone through when he lost them. He’d never even mentioned them in front of me. But I guess that was just the way he was.

Now though, in his own way, I knew he cared about me. That said something, didn’t it? I didn’t think I was trying to pull at straws or make something bigger than it needed to be. I was simply taking what I could get and not making it out to be something it wasn’t.

I could live with that.

So I shrugged at Zac. “Yeah, exactly like that. He’s just so focused he doesn’t care about anything else. I get it.” I did.

With a big sigh, Zac sniffed. “It’s workin’ for him. He’s the only one on the team that’s an All-Pro.” The shape his mouth took after he finished talking made a bittersweet sensation go through my heart. I couldn’t help but think: Poor Zac.

So I smacked him in the arm. “Quit pouting. You’re only twenty-eight. That one quarterback played until he was almost forty, didn’t he?”

“Well… yeah. He did.”

“See?” That was enough for now, wasn’t it? I went with changing the subject. “Are you doing anything for Halloween?”

“Where are you going?”

I stopped at the door and held out the jack-o-lantern shaped bucket I’d bought the day before, so he could see the three bags of candy I’d torn open and dumped inside. “Nowhere. I was going to sit outside.”

Sitting in what I’d began to consider calling his throne—the breakfast nook—the big guy had a puzzle spread out in front of him. I didn’t know why I thought it was so cute but it was. It really, really was. Those big shoulders were always hunched over while he worked on them, and I didn’t need to catch him unawares to know he sometimes stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he was really into it. Now though on Halloween Day, his entire body was turned to the side as he caught me on my way out.

Aiden’s eyes dropped to my body in what I might have thought was the third time since we’d met, and he cocked a thick eyebrow, his face a plain, stony mask. “You’re all dressed up.”

“It’s a costume,” I said a little self-consciously. “For Halloween.” For the record, I loved Halloween. Other than Christmas, it was my favorite holiday. The costumes, the decorations, the little kids, and the candy… it had been love from the first October 31^st I could remember.

Aiden tilted his head just slightly to the side. “What are you supposed to be?”

Was he serious? I looked down at my costume, thinking I’d done a pretty good job putting it together three years ago when I’d last worn it to a friend’s party. The overalls, the yellow shirt, the one-eyed goggle pressing into my forehead. It was obvious. “A minion.”

The Wall of Winnipeg blinked. “What the hell is a minion?”

“A minion. Despicable Me.” I blinked when he stayed silent. “Nothing?”

“Never seen it.”

Blasphemy. I’d ask if he was serious, but I knew he was. I stared right at him. “It’s one of the cutest movies in the entire universe,” I explained slowly, hoping he was joking.

He shook his head, his eyes flicking low again. “Never heard of it.”

“I don’t even know what to say to you, and at the same time, I’m not sure why I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it,” I said. “You have no idea what you’ve been missing out on, big guy. It’s probably the cutest animated movie after Finding Nemo.”

“I highly doubt that.” But he didn’t say he hadn’t heard of Finding Nemo. That was something.

“I have the DVD in my room, borrow it.”

Before he could respond, a knock sounded at the door and a bolt of giddiness shot through my chest as I clutched the bucket of candy in my hand and prepared myself for the trick-or-treaters on the other side.

Two small kids who couldn’t be more than six years old stood on the doorstep with really elaborate cloth sacks extended.

“Trick or treat!” they pretty much shouted.

“Happy Halloween,” I said, taking in the petite Power Ranger and Captain America as I dropped a few pieces of candy into each bag.

“Thank you!” they shouted back simultaneously before running to the adult standing at the end of the sidewalk waiting for them. The adult figure waved at me and I waved back before sticking my head back into the house. “I’ll be outside,” I called out to Aiden, grabbing the collapsible chair that I’d left right by the door earlier for this occasion.

I’d barely settled into the seat on the small patio outside when the front door opened and the legs of a chair just like mine peeked out, the big six-foot-almost-five man I was legally married to following after it.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he dropped his chair next to mine, further away from the door.

“Nothing.” He eyed me as he pretty much fell into the canvas. Honestly, a small part of me was worried it was going to rip at the seams when he plopped down, but by some miracle it didn’t. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared forward across the street.

And I stared at him.

He never sat outside. Ever. When would he have time? And why would he?

“Okay,” I mumbled to myself, moving my attention back to the street to spot a pair of kids three houses down. It was still early, only six, so I didn’t think much of the absence of little ones crowding the streets. In my neighborhood growing up, it would be five o’clock and the streets would be lined with the smallest children first, and by eight o’clock, the older ones would be busy making their rounds. Most of the houses in that neighborhood had been decorated to the best of their abilities—never ours though—but it had been awesome. Everyone had been into it.

My mom never really went out of her way to buy us costumes, but that didn’t stop my little brother or me from dressing up. I’d gotten really good about making something out of nothing. Every year, hell or high water, we dressed up and went out with Diana, chaperoned by her parents.

Even at my apartment complex, there were quite a bit of kids who had dropped by in the two years I’d been there. This, on the other hand, was a bit of a disappointment, but maybe it was just too early?

“You like all this stuff?” that gruff voice peeped up.

I sat back in the chair and plucked a small Kit Kat from the jack-o-lantern on my lap. “Yes.” I shoved half of it into my mouth, letting it hang out like a cigarette. “I like the costumes and the imagination. The candy. But I love the costumes the most.”

He eyeballed me briefly. “I can’t tell.”

I crossed my eyes and angled myself slightly toward him. “What? It’s not like I’m dressed up as a sexy rabbit or nurse at the Playboy mansion or something.”

His gaze stayed forward. “Isn’t that what most girls aim for?”

“Some… if you have no imagination. Pssh. Last year, I dressed up as Goku.” Diana and I had gone to one of her friend’s Halloween party. I’d gotten her to dress up as Trunks.

That had him glancing at me. “What’s a Goku?”

Yeah, I had to clutch the sides of the canvas seat below me as I leveled my gaze at his bearded face. “He’s only the second single greatest fighter in Anime history. He was a character on a show called ‘Dragonball’.” I realized I was whispering and ranting at the same time, and coughed. “It was a Japanese cartoon that I love. You’ve never heard of it?”

Those thick eyebrows knit together and one big foot crossed over the other as he stretched out in the poor, poor chair. “It’s a cartoon… with fighters?”

“Intergalactic fighters,” I tried to draw him in, raising an eyebrow. “Like Streetfighter but with a plot. It’s epic.”

Adding the intergalactic part must have been too much because he just shook his big head. “What the hell is an intergalactic fighter?”

“A fighter…” I stared at him and grabbed two pieces of candy, handing him an Airhead because I knew it was vegan. “Here. This might take a while.”

“He has a tail the entire time?” Aiden held the same Blow Pop up against his lip that he’d taken from the jack-o-lantern bucket after polishing off an Airhead. I may or may not have had to force myself not to look at his mouth for more than a second or two at a time. “That seems stupid. Someone could grab it and use it against him.”

The fact that he was thinking strategy over an anime that I was so fond of got me pretty damn excited; I just had to be careful not to let it show on my face. “No, he lost his tail when he grew up,” I explained.

We’d been going on about “Dragonball” for the last hour. In that time, exactly four kids had come up to the house for candy, but I was too busy explaining one of my favorite shows in the world to Mr. I-didn’t-have-a-childhood to really focus in on that.

He blinked as he thought about my explanation. “He lost his tail when he hit puberty?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why does it matter? It’s genetic. Guys grow hair in places when they hit puberty; he can lose his tail if he wants to lose his tail. You just have to watch it to understand.”

He didn’t look particularly convinced.

“After that, there’s “Dragonball Z” and GT, and those are even better in my opinion.”

“What’s that?”

“The series when they get older. They have kids and then their kids grow up to become better than them.”

His eyebrow twitched and I was fairly certain his mouth did too. “Do you have that on DVD too?”

I smiled. “Maybe.”

He gave me a side-glance, reaching up to scratch at his bearded cheek with his last three fingers. “Maybe I’ll have to watch it.”

“Whenever you want, big guy. My video collection is your video collection.”

I swear he nodded as if he’d actually take me up on my offer.

With a victorious sigh, I turned my attention back to the street to see that it was completely empty. Not a single soul roamed our block or any other block within visual distance. Something tickled at the back of my head, really making me think about the evening, about Aiden coming out to sit with me.

I bit my lips and asked slowly, “That’s probably it for kids today, huh?”

He lifted a shoulder, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth. “Seems like it.”

I got up with the nearly full container of candy and made sure to keep my face down as I collapsed the legs of the chair together. Something clogged my throat. “Kids don’t really go trick-or-treating in this neighborhood, do they?”

Aiden hummed the most obnoxious non-answer in the world.

And I had my answer.

I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to figure it out.

He had known kids didn’t come out to trick-or-treat in his neighborhood—his freaking gated neighborhood. So he’d come out to keep me company. How about that. How about that.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me there weren’t little kids here?”

He didn’t bother looking at me as he headed into the house with his chair tucked under an arm. “You looked excited. I didn’t want to ruin it for you,” he admitted without a shy note in his voice.

Bah-freaking-humbug.

If there was something I could have said after that that would have been appropriate, I had no idea what it could have been. I thought about the tiny kindness he’d done me as I took the chair from him and set both of them back into the garage while he went to the bathroom.

My stomach growled and I went about rinsing some chickpeas and drying them while my mind wandered to Aiden. He appeared in the kitchen and sat at the breakfast table, his broad back curling over it as he worked on his puzzle in peace. I made dinner—quadrupling what I usually would have made for just me alone—and told myself that I was only doing it because he’d been nice to me.

I wasn’t even going to bother asking if he was hungry. He was always hungry.

When the food was ready thirty minutes later, I served up two bowls and held the one with three times as much as the other out to him. Aiden eyes caught mine as he took it.

“Thank you.”

I just nodded at him. “You’re welcome. I’m going to go watch TV while I eat.” I made it all the way to where the living room met up with the hallway that went straight down the middle of the house.

“You want to watch that Dragonballs show?”

I stopped in my tracks when he spoke.

“I’m curious now what a little kid with a monkey tail who can supposedly ‘kick ass’ looks like.”

Glancing back to make sure he wasn’t pulling my tail, I spotted Aiden sitting on the edge of his seat, ready to get up if I gave him the notice. I was dumbstruck for a second before reacting. I had to force myself not to smile like a lunatic. “It’s ‘Dragonball,’ big guy, and you don’t have to tell me twice.”

Chapter Twenty-One

I was sitting at my computer when the first massive lightning bolt hit. The house shook. The windows rattled. Wind howled, slapping the house’s siding. The height of the storm I’d seen the meteorologist on TV forecasting had finally come.

And I panicked, saving my work as quickly as I could so I could turn off my computer.

Then the next bolt hit, the light so bright right outside my window it seemed unreal, closer to a nuclear blast than an act of nature. The lights had no hope. Just like a candle going out, they were there one second and gone the next.

“Fuck!” I muttered to myself, already diving from my desk toward the bed, blind, slapping my hands around so I could find the nightstand. My knee found it first, and I cursed, grabbing the spot that I was sure was already turning into a bruise with one hand and finding the top drawer with the other. It didn’t take me long to find the small LED flashlight inside. I made sure it was always in the left corner, and sure enough, it was right there.

Flicking it on, I sucked in a deep breath before jumping back on the bed and sliding under the covers. The flashlight was the best thing money could buy; five hundred lumens for a contraption three inches long. I moved the bright beam around the ceiling and toward the open doorway, listening as the screaming winds outside got louder. I shivered.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t gotten a warning that a storm was coming in advance. It had been raining steadily for some time, but instead of the storm moving away, it had just gotten heavier and heavier. Great.

This was so stupid. I hated being so scared of the dark. I really did. It made me feel like a dumb little kid. But no matter how much I tried to tell myself it was okay, that I was fine….

That didn’t do anything.

I still shook. My breathing still got bottled up in my throat. I still wanted the lights to come back on.

“Vanessa? Where are you?” Aiden’s rough voice carried its way from down the hall. I could barely hear his footsteps as they got lost mixed in with the noise outside.

“In my room,” I called out, weaker than I ever would have wanted. “What are you doing awake?” Sleepy Pants had gone to bed at his usual time: nine. Three hours ago.

“The thunder woke me up.” Another big flash of lightning illuminated the body filling the doorway a moment later, and I flicked my flashlight at his legs.

His bare legs.

He was only wearing boxer briefs. There wasn’t a shirt over his chest. Aiden was standing in my doorway in just boxer briefs, his medallion around his neck, and muscles.

So many muscles.

Stop it. I needed to stop it right away.

“Jesus. How bright is that thing? Point it at the floor, would you?” he said in a voice that confirmed he’d been dead asleep just minutes ago. I flicked the light toward the ceiling instead. “You all right?”

“I’m okay,” I said, even as an unnecessary shiver racked my spine. “Just pissing my pants. No big deal.” The laugh that came out of my mouth sounded just as fake and awkward as it felt. I sounded like a crazy person.

The sigh he let out made it seem like he was completely putting himself out as he strode forward, around the side of the mattress before stopping, towering. “Scoot over.”

Scoot?

I wasn’t going to ask. I should, but I didn’t as my heart seemed to climb into my throat and take a seat.

I scooted. Neither one of us said a word as he climbed onto my bed and under the covers as if it was no big freaking deal, like this wasn’t the first time he’d done it. I didn’t let myself get all shy and prude-ish, or anywhere near it. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I wasn’t going to say no to the other half of my paperwork getting into my bed when I’d rather not be by myself.

Lightning flashed brighter than bright through the two windows in my room once more before plunging the house into that eerie darkness that creeped me the hell out despite the beam of light aimed at the ceiling.

Without a shameful bone in my body, I wiggled over the foot between us until his elbow touched mine.

“Are you shaking?” he asked in a strange tone.

“Only a little bit.” I scooted an inch closer, soaking in the heat his body was throwing off.

Aiden sighed like I was torturing him while all I’d done was mind my own business in bed. “You’re fine.”

I moved the light in the shape of a circle across the ceiling. “I know.”

Another great big sigh only possible from a man his size made its way out of his throat. “Come here.” His voice seemed to rumble across the sheets.

“Where?” I was already next to him. I rolled onto my side.

“Closer, Van,” he ordered, exasperated.

I wasn’t anywhere near being worried about how weird it was to be in bed with someone who hadn’t even given me a real hug once in the entirety of the time we’d known each other. I definitely wasn’t thinking about how he was mostly naked and how I only had underwear and a tank top on.

So I moved over, right on over until I realized he wasn’t on his back any longer. He was on his side. I practically pressed up against him, my face right between his pecs, my arms between my chest and the middle of his.

He was warm, and he smelled wonderful, like the expensive coconut oil and herbal soap he used. The same stuff I used to order him from online once upon a time when things between us had been so different. I couldn’t begin to imagine that Aiden—that same man who had spent a minimum of five days a week keeping me at arm’s length five months ago—was in my bed right then because he knew about my phobia.

Later when I was capable of it, I’d think about him waking up and coming to my room, but right then wasn’t the time.

He shifted a little, just a little. The bristles covering his chin brushed my forehead for a split second. He made a noise, a soft one, a relaxed one, and his facial hair touched me again, lingering just a moment longer on my skin. “How have you survived the last twenty years being terrified of the dark?” His question was so cottony, so pliable, I opened my mouth to answer before I thought twice about it.

“I always have a flashlight,” I explained. “And except for these last two years, I’ve always lived with someone. Plus, it’s rare that I’m ever in complete darkness. You learn how to avoid it.”

“You lived with a boyfriend?” he asked casually, his breath warm on my hair. If his tone was a little too casual, I didn’t pick up on it.

“Uh, no. I’ve never ‘lived’ with one. I’ve only had three and it never came up.” I locked my gaze on that shiny gold medal draped high over his left pectoral. “Have you ever lived with a girlfriend?”

The scoff that came out of Aiden made me jump just because it was so unexpected. “No.” His tone sounded either disgusted or disbelieving that he would do something so stupid. “I’ve never been in a relationship.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Ever?”

“Ever,” the smug-ass responded.

“Not even in high school?”

“Definitely not in high school.”

“Why?”

“Because every relationship will end up one of two ways: you’ll end up breaking up, or you end up marrying the person. And I don’t like wasting my time.”

That had me tipping my head back so I could meet his eyes. His expression said he thought I’d lost my damn mind, but my mind was too busy to be lost. He had a point about the outcome of relationships, but the rest of it… His lack of dates. The religious medallion around his neck. It all suddenly made sense.

“Are you…” I couldn’t get it out. “Are you saving yourself for marriage?”

He didn’t throw his head back and laugh. He didn’t flick me on the forehead and call me an idiot. Aiden Graves simply stared at me in the shadowy room, his face inches from mine. When he was done staring at me, he blinked. Then he blinked some more. “I’m not a virgin, Vanessa. I had sex a few times in high school.”

My eyes bulged. High school? He hadn’t been with anyone since freaking high school? “In high school?” My tone was as disbelieving as it should have been.

He picked up on what I was trying to hint at. “Yes. Sex is complicated. People lie. I don’t have time for any of it.”

Holy. Shit. I watched his face. He wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit. That suddenly explained what the hell he did in his room for hours by himself. He masturbated. He masturbated all the time. I felt my face get hot as I asked, “Are you a born-again virgin?”

“No.” Those lashes lowered over his eyeballs again. “What would make you think I was?”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend. You don’t ever go on dates.” You jerk off all the time. Crap, I needed to stop thinking about him and his hand and all the time he hung out in his room.

Aiden was definitely giving me a ‘you’re an idiot face.’ “I don’t have time to bother trying to have a relationship, and I don’t like most people. Women included. ”

I wrung my hands, which were still between our two bodies. “You like me a little.”

“A little,” he repeated with only a small curve to the corners of his mouth.

I let his comment go and reached forward with one of my index fingers to point at the St. Luke’s medallion around his neck. “Isn’t this a Catholic saint? Maybe you’re religious.”

His big hand immediately went up to touch the quarter-sized object he carried around with him always. “I’m not religious.”

I raised my eyebrows, and he gave me an exasperated expression.

“You can ask whatever you want.”

“But will you answer?”

He huffed as he settled that massive, mostly nude body in front of me. “Ask your damn question,” he quipped brusquely.

I held the tip of my index finger directly above his medal before drawing my hand back toward my chest, feeling uber shy. I’d wanted to ask him for years, but I’d never been confident enough to. What better moment than when he was commanding me to ask? “Why do you always wear it?”

Without a hint of reservation, Aiden answered. “It was my grandfather’s.”

Was that my heart making a racket?

“He gave it to me when I was fifteen,” he went on to explain.

“For your birthday?”

“No. After I went to go live with him.”

His voice was smooth and comforting. Everything about it had me closing my eyes, sucking up his words and giving me this sense of openness. “Why did you go live with him?”

“Them. I lived with my grandparents.” The bristles of his beard touched my forehead again. “My parents didn’t want to deal with me anymore.”

That was definitely my heart making all kinds of horrendous noises. This all felt too familiar, too painful even for me.

Possibly too painful even for Aiden.

What Aiden was saying didn’t add up with the man across from me. The one who rarely raised his voice in anger, hardly ever cursed, rarely fought with any of his opponents much less his teammates. Aiden was a low-level charge—determined, focused, disciplined.

And I knew way too well what it was like to be unimportant.

I wasn’t going to cry.

I kept my eyes closed and Aiden kept his secrets close to his heart.

His breath touched my forehead. “Did you ever go to therapy?” he asked. “After what your sisters did?”

Maybe this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have after all. “No. Well, I went to a psychologist when I left my mom’s house. Well, when CPS took custody. They only asked questions about what things were like where my mom was concerned. Not about… anything else really.” In hindsight, I figure they wanted to be sure I hadn’t been abused by her or anyone else she could have brought into her kids’ live. The psychologist must have seen something in my older sisters that he didn’t like because we got split up into different houses. Honestly, I’d never been happier than I was after that.