The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Why are you staring at me?”

Could I have tried to play off the fact that I’d been lying in bed with my head propped up on my palm, staring at him? Absolutely not. What the hell else could I have been looking at? I’d been doing it for so long that, knowing Aiden, he’d waited to make sure I was doing what he thought I was doing.

Which I had been.

I’d woken up maybe ten minutes before and laid there, appreciating how cozy it was under the heavy covers and on the perfectly comfortable mattress. But when I finally forced myself to open my eyes, the first thing I saw was the big guy. Aiden was on his side, his hand pillowing his head. That normally harsh face was… well, it was still pretty rough. It wasn’t soft and dreamy; he honestly looked like he was thinking about bad plays in his sleep. His mouth was slightly open with the softest, even breathing coming out of it. With the covers pulled up to his chin, he looked too damn cute.

I hated it.

Why? Why him?

Of all the people in the world I could have chosen to think the world of, it had to be this one. The one who didn’t want a real relationship because he didn’t want to put time into it. The guy who only loved one thing in his life and everything else came trailing after it.

Then again…

He’d been making a serious effort to spend time with me. He’d done things for me that I still couldn’t completely wrap my head around. He’d been more than just friendly with me.

What did it mean though? Weren’t those part of the requirements mandatory in a real relationship? Wasn’t it enough to be with each other when you could, or was I just trying to convince myself there was something there? He’d kissed me. That couldn’t mean nothing, could it?

That was exactly what I was in the middle of thinking of—and eyeing those great lips—when he caught me. So all I could do was give him a closed mouth smile. “Why not?”

Cracking both eyes open, Aiden rolled to his back and stretched his arms high behind his head, rolling his wrists in the process as he yawned.

“Thanks for putting me in bed last night,” I said, watching the swift line of his throat as he yawned again.

He grumbled, “Uh–huh,” as he rolled his shoulders before slipping his arms beneath the covers again.

“And for giving me a massage.” I had already tried moving my legs, and sure they were sore, but I knew how much worse they could be. I’d done everything I was supposed to do to help prevent the stiffness, but there was only so much a body that wasn’t 100 percent to begin with could handle.

“There wasn’t much to massage.”

Uh. “What’s the supposed to mean?”

“I have more muscles in my glutes than you have in your thighs.”

Anyone who had seen Aiden’s ass would know that was a fact, so I wasn’t going to take it personally. Maybe because I was still so sleepy, I raised my eyebrows at him and said, “Have you seen your butt? That’s not an insult. It has more muscles in it than most people have all over their bodies.”

His own thick eyebrows rose about a millimeter, just slightly but enough for me to notice. “I didn’t know you paid that much attention to it.”

“Why do you think you have so many female fans?”

Aiden let out another low groan, but he didn’t tell me to stop.

“You could raise a small fortune if you ever auctioned off the chance for a person to take a—”

“Vanessa!” Mr. Proper reached over to throw a hand over my mouth, like he was shocked.

That big hand literally covered me from ear to ear, and I burst out laughing though it was muffled.

“You make me feel cheap,” he said as he slowly pulled his hand away, but the shine in his eyes said he didn’t really mind it that much.

I stretched my own limbs with a yawn. “I’m just telling you what anyone else would.”

“No, no one else would ever say that to me.”

So he had a point. “Well, I’ll tell you the truth then.”

He made this noise that had me rolling to face him again. “You always have.”

Why did it feel like he was trying to tell me something? “I’ll always try to be honest with you,” I lied, hesitantly. Unless it was something I was scared to tell him, like my feelings for him, or me quitting.

“You can tell me anything.”

How was I supposed to live my life after that? Especially when I was lying on his bed and he was sitting up next to me, sharing the same covers. I wished I had the guts to tell him anything, but the truth was, I didn’t.

There was only so far I was willing to jump on my own.

I sensed the weight of a stare before I glanced up. Directly in front of me and his desk was the big guy. Literally right in front of me. I’d been completely hunched over, so focused on what I was doing that I had zoned out.

“Jesus Christ. How do you not make any noise?” He was stealthy like an overweight, mutant cat, damn it.

“Skills.” I swear to God I almost choked. He took a step forward, his hands planting themselves on the edge of the desk as he leaned over to look at what I was working on. “What is that?”

I lowered my pencil to the desk and slid the piece toward him. “It’s a diptych tattoo design.” I pointed at the images on the two separate panes I was still in the middle of outlining. “It’s supposed to be one for each leg, you see? One part is Medusa’s face and the other is her hair—the snakes.”

When he didn’t say anything, I held back a frown. “You don’t like it?” I thought it was coming along well.

“Van, that’s…” He lowered his face closer to the design. “It’s amazing. Someone’s paying you to do that for them?”

“Yep.” I looked back at the Medusa and had to agree with him. It was pretty damn awesome. “I know a guy in Austin who does tattoo work. Sometimes someone will ask for a certain style he’s not good at, and if no one else he works with can do it, he’ll reach out to me. My line drawing is pretty good.” I glanced back up at him and grinned. “My watercolors aren’t too shabby either. I’m a woman of many talents.”

Unless someone wanted a portrait, then I’d pretend to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to admit how bad at them I was.

“I’ve never really thought about tattoos much, but I might have to think about having you make me one,” he answered in a distracted voice.

“I could whip you up a nice clown. All you’d have to do it ask,” I joked, sliding the design toward me.

Yeah, that big, beautiful grin crawled up with full force over his mouth, cracking my soul open in half. “The five of us are going out for dinner. Take a break and come.”

I didn’t need to eye the sketch to know that I’d worked on it almost as long as I could. When I drew, I’d learned the hard way that I needed to pay attention to my limit, otherwise things started to go downhill. And I’d probably gotten there about fifteen minutes ago when my fingers began cramping.

“All right.” I reached across the desk to grab the case where I usually put my box of pencils. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed.”

Aiden nodded.

Fully aware that Aiden wasn’t dressed up and he wouldn’t go anywhere that would require him to put on anything dressier than jeans, I settled for a pair of skintight jeans that I’d resorted to sticking in the drier on high heat so they would still fit me, a V-neck red elbow-length shirt, and black heels I hadn’t worn since the last time I’d gone out, months and months ago.

Not surprisingly, all of the guys were downstairs waiting. I knew they were planning on leaving the next day. I had to take one stair at a time, and I winced every single step, muscles I didn’t even know I had responded to the achiness from my run yesterday. I’d briefly thought I was coming down with something but shoved the possibility aside.

It was Zac who spotted me first, a big, dumb smile coming over his face.

“Don’t say anything,” I muttered to him before he could make a crack.

That only made him laugh.

I should have thought about putting on tennis shoes instead.

“I’d give you a piggyback ride, but I can barely walk myself,” he apologized as I groaned at the bottom of the staircase.

Jokingly, I smiled at Aiden, who was standing next to Zac, and batted my eyelashes.

The Wall of Winnipeg did what The Wall of Winnipeg would do and simply shook his head. “You can’t baby it. You’ll only feel worse tomorrow.”

This son of a bitch. I snickered, and then I snorted, watching as his features took on an uncertain expression before I lost it, slapping a hand on Zac’s shoulder so I’d have something to lean on.

Did I know he was telling the truth? Of course I did. I’d stretched earlier and cried. No shame in my game.

But… Wasn’t he supposed to be my cream-colored knight? My knight in shining armor who would carry me around to prevent me from being in pain?

Of course not. Aiden was going to tell me to do whatever the best thing for me was, even if it hurt like hell.

And I seriously couldn’t love him any more. Not a single bit more. And I couldn’t tell him.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked.

I had to take my glasses off to palm one eyeball at a time, wiping my tears away, not caring that the little makeup I’d put on earlier in the day was more than likely coming off.

“Man, you’re supposed to take care of your woman.” That was Drew who said it. “Help her out.”

That only made me laugh even more.

“Oh, Aiden.” I looked up at the man in question and grinned. “I’m fine. I can walk. I promise. You’re right.”

“I know I am.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

I woke up with my hand in Aiden’s pants.

In his boxer briefs to be specific.

The back of my hand was pressed against a warm butt cheek. I had one knee against his hamstring. His back was about three inches from my mouth. My other hand was numb under my face.

But it was the hand I had in his underwear that alarmed me the most.

The sheets and comforter thrown over us didn’t let me see much, but what did you really need to see when you knew exactly what you were touching? Nothing.

Slowly, I tried pulling my hand out. I got most of my thumb out and was in the process of getting the rest of my fingers to safety too when Aiden tipped his head over his shoulder and gave me a sleepy look.

“Are you done groping me?” he asked, his voice sand-scratched.

With a sound I didn’t necessarily want to consider a hiss, I pulled my hand out of its warm cocoon of male flesh and underwear and held it to my chest.

“I wasn’t groping you,” I whispered. “I was just… making sure none of the guys sneaked in and tried to get you.”

His sleepy gaze widened. “That’s why you grabbed it all night?”

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did,” the man who never lied claimed.

And that had me shutting my mouth. “Really?”

He nodded, rolling onto his back and stretching those brawny arms over his head, a siren’s song for my eyes.

“In that case, I’m sorry.” I eyed at the tuft of black hair in his underarm, which for some reason I found so attractive. “Not.”

Aiden drew his arms back down, that handsome bearded face clearly amused.

That old, familiar, painful knot filled my throat as I took in those features I enjoyed looking at so much—that scar along his hairline that defined him and that gold chain peeking out from beneath his T-shirt and what it meant.

I really did love him, and he was leaving for two months. I wasn’t sure if it was everything that had happened to me with my family in the past, or if I was secretly just a possessive person with the right—or in this case wrong—person, but I didn’t want him to leave. And there was no way I could ask him to stay.

Reaching forward, I touched the bump under his shirt where his medallion was and I said as much as I was willing to say. “I’m going to miss you,” I admitted.

That big hand reached up to brush my hair away from my face, gentle, gentle, gentle, those long fingers catching on a few soft pink tangles. Slowly, he moved across the bed, leaning toward me, pressing his forehead against mine, and all I could do was close my eyes, taking in the warmth of his body and the tenderness of his gesture.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do a single thing but lay there taking the moment in.

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” I told him just so he’d know it wasn’t going to be some casual thing, like missing him when I’d first stopped working for him.

That hand in my hair dug deeper, reaching my scalp, holding more hair in those strong fingers. He exhaled, his breath washing over my chin.

He didn’t say he was going to miss me back. Instead, he lips went to my chin, then to that nook between there and my lips. His breath was hot, his mouth moist as he trailed it an inch higher. It was me who cut the distance between us. Me who nipped at his lip.

But it was him who went for it. Aiden turned his mouth to the side and sealed our lips together, going from chaste to hungry in one second flat. He went one direction and I went the other, our tongues clashing instinctively. Dueling, dipping. Aiden ate at my mouth and I let him. We kissed and we kissed. My tongue brushed his over and over again, and it wasn’t enough.

My hands had gone to his head, keeping him there as he rose above me, never losing the lock he had on my lips. He was so swift I didn’t even realize he had spread my legs wide and settled his hips and body between them. Aiden kissed me like he never wanted to stop. His hand gripped my hair a little tighter, as if I was planning on going somewhere when my death grip was just as vicious and demanding as his.

And then he settled his groin against mine. The rigid, hard, so-long erection nestled right between my legs as he went down to his forearms. Aiden rocked his hips, rubbing the seam of my body through the thin material of both of our bottoms and I lifted my butt to get more of him.

This was a terrible idea, and I wasn’t going to stop it. I wasn’t ever going to tell him to stop. It didn’t make a lick of sense, and I didn’t even remotely care.

Tearing my mouth away from his, I sucked in a breath when he gave a rough roll of his lower body, a pump, a jerk, that said he wanted in. And I wanted him in.

“Van,” Aiden growled.

It was right then that the house alarm started beeping like crazy. Going off and off and off, like when the code hadn’t been pressed in time. Then Leo, who was in his crate and hadn’t made a single peep all night, began barking.

With a curse that sounded like “fuck,” Aiden stopped what he was doing. He was panting. His forehead went to mine, and I could hear him swallow hard. “Damn it,” he hissed, shifting back to sit on his haunches, those brown eyes nailed to me lying there in front of him with my feet planted flat on his bed, my knees at his sides while I tried to catch my breath. “It’s probably the guys, but I should make sure.” He swallowed again and blinked, even as his hand, which had been on the bed, reached over to squeeze the giant hard-on tenting his sleeping pants.

I couldn’t look away. I absolutely could not look away from the bell-shaped tip that was pulling the elastic of his sleep bottoms away from his waist. Every instinct in me screamed that I should reach forward and give his thick shaft a squeeze. I wanted to beg him to come back.

But the stupid alarm wasn’t stopping.

“The guys?” I reached over blindly and snagged my glasses and cell phone off the nightstand almost immediately. I slipped my glasses on to peek at my phone, finding the time and a notice that I had three missed calls from Diana. That was weird. “It’s nine in the morning,” I said absently. It had been years since she’d drunk dialed me.

“They didn’t come home last night,” he said, throwing one leg over mine, his big hand squeezing my calf before he jumped off the bed with a grace I didn’t miss, even as I tried to wrap my head around what had just happened. At the door, Aiden stood there for a minute before slipping a hand inside his pants and adjusting himself. “I’ll be right back.”

I nodded.

His mouth opened for a moment, but he closed it. “I’m sorry, Van.” That stupid beeping got even louder and he shook his head. “Let me check.”

Then he was gone.

We had just been making out, on the verge of doing something we couldn’t come back from, and he was out of the room.

Seriously? Of all the times they could have come in, they had to do it right then? They couldn’t have waited a few more minutes?

I didn’t doubt it was them, but what the hell were they out doing until nine? Didn’t clubs close at three? I sat up in bed as I yawned, thinking more about why Zac wouldn’t put in the code, and then thinking back about what the hell they had just interrupted.

With a sigh, I redialed Diana’s number, promising Leo who was crying in his crate that I’d let him out in a minute as I put the phone to my face and crossed my legs, the dampness between them making me feel really uncomfortable now. The phone rang three times before she finally picked up.

“Hey,” I said.

I’d known Diana what seemed like my entire life. I’d been there with her when her first serious boyfriend broke her heart, and I’d been there when her dog died. I’d thought I’d heard every emotion possible in her voice over such a long time period. So I wasn’t prepared at the wrecked, distraught, “Van,” that crackled out of her mouth.

“Di, what’s wrong?” I immediately freaked out.

She was sobbing. I could tell she’d been doing it for a while. Through the tears and the distraught tone in her voice, she told me what happened. By the time we hung up, my entire body was numb. I forgot about Leo as I sat there for a moment, trying to collect myself.

I couldn’t even find it in me to cry.

Getting to my feet, I attempted to swallow the pain in my throat. Nearly blind and going almost on instinct, I forced myself down the stairs. My ears were ringing. When had they started ringing? I wondered distractedly, trying to process my thoughts and finding myself completely unable of thinking about anything.

It was amazing how quickly things could change; that possibility never ceased to amaze me.

The tears had just started catching up to me by the time I found all of the guys in the living room. It wasn’t until I spotted Zac on the couch with what was a very visible cast on the foot he had propped up on the ottoman that I lost it. Guilt and anger finally wrapped their spiny fingers around my heart, wringing the words right out of me. My voice broke as I asked, “Aiden, can you drive me to the hospital?”