Until today.
I’d seen one knee and a calf; the other was covered in a brace. I also got to see some yummy forearms, with lovely veins wrapped around them. Just like veins would wrap around his dick—
Goddammit. This was what he did to me. Took innocent musings and made them all dirty!
It was totally his fault.
I had nothing to do with it. Whatsoever.
It was all on him for being so fucking delicious. That tic in his jaw made my clit pulse at the same beat, and the way he smelled? A little salty and sweaty from the gym, well, wouldn’t you know it, it just made me want to lick him. Even if he was skinnier than before, he was still muscled and through his gym shirt, I saw how his pecs pushed against the fabric.
I wanted to bite him.
Sooo badly.
I didn’t think that had anything to do with the fog taking over my brain either, nor the migraine from hell that was starting to make itself known.
I wanted to dig my nails into his back, to scrape the hell out of it, to claw and scratch just so when he put a shirt on the next day, he remembered exactly who he’d been to bed with.
For all of these reasons, I’d said ‘fine.’
Of course, men being men, of which Aidan still was one, even if he was definitely special, he couldn’t just roll with it.
Instead, he frowned down at me like he’d have preferred an argument, then uttered fighting words, "You’ll stay for however long it takes, Savannah. Do you hear me?"
Well, look at me just adding an extra three weeks to every exposé I needed to write.
Hell, maybe I could tie him up with me for the next thirty frickin’ years.
Because I figured he wanted me to argue, I scowled at him. "If you insist."
"Oh, I do." He growled as he pushed back and away from the wall. Away from me. I missed his heat. Damn, did I miss it. I missed his smell and the way the air around us seemed to tingle. Didn’t he feel that? "I’ll take you to a bedroom. You can get some rest—"
"Rest?" I snorted. "Not going to happen." I flexed my sore hands as I thought about how he’d just answered my question.
He apparently didn’t feel ‘that’ because if he did, there was a perfectly great bed right behind him.
I didn’t even take up that much room on the mattress.
"You’ve been through a trying ordeal, Savannah," he grumbled.
"I’m not eighty-nine, Aidan," I retorted.
His eyes narrowed. "If I have to put you to bed myself, you’ll get some sleep."
I perked up. "Okay."
He frowned. "Okay? What the hell’s going on with you tonight?"
Shit. "Like you said, it’s been a trying ordeal." Shit. I might have backpedaled a little too far because he no longer looked suspicious, just amused at how damn perky I was at the prospect of him hustling me between the sheets. "I guess I am more tired than I thought," I said, faking a yawn that I kind of ruined because as I faked it, a real one popped out. You know the kind. A jaw-popping, face-cracking, lion’s roar of a yawn.
Aidan snorted. "Thought as much. Come on. I’ll take you to a spare room."
"Thank you," I said sheepishly, trudging after him as he pulled the door open and limped into the hallway.
Carefully reducing my pace to match his, I peeped over at him. When he sensed my focus, he cast me a glance and his lips curved.
He smiled!
He only fucking smiled!
A real one. A genuine one. Not a twitch of his mouth at the corners or a smirk. But a beautiful one.
And it packed as much of a punch as ever.
Holy shit. Be still my heart and my ovaries because things were setting in for a bumpy ride.
Every part of me pulsing—yes, even my bones—I smiled back. His eyes darkened, and he quickly looked away.
Why did he do that?
Grrr.
I remembered how it’d been back when we’d first met, and whenever things could have evolved, or at least moved forward a few steps, he’d always backed off.
He wasn’t just the one who got away, he was more the phantom of the fucking opera.
Shaking my head at the analogy, then wincing when the migraine had lights dancing at the periphery of my vision, I muttered, "Are you going to set a guard on me?"
"Why would I? You’ll be staying here. With Conor and I."
"Until my exposés are all published?" I asked carefully, trying not to get excited.
"Yes." His mouth firmed. "He might not like it. None of us have lived together for a long time. If that’s the case, we’ll go to my house."
Well, I wasn’t about to complain.
"Okay, well, whatever’s easiest for you."
Me.
I was easiest for him.
Seriously.
Bend me over and spank me, Aidan.
I’d take it.
He grunted. "What is your family doing for the holidays?"
"They’re going to Hawaii." I pursed my lips. "I wasn’t going to go."
"Why not?" He frowned at me. "Aren’t you as close to them as you used to be?"
My nose crinkled. "Do we really have to get into it?"
His frown hardened and, in response, my lady bits softened.
"We had a falling out over Thanksgiving."
"Over the holiday itself or because of it?"
I mumbled, "Umm, during Thanksgiving weekend."
"What about?"
"Camden, you know, my brother—"
He laughed a little. "Yes, Savannah, I know the singer who’s won more Grammy awards than Adele."
I grimaced, because everyone knew my goddamn brother. They just didn’t realize what a prick he was. "Well, he and I got into a little spat, and I’ve decided not to forgive him."
Aidan was quiet a few seconds, and as he guided me into a spare room that was as eclectically designed as the rest of the place—why was there a fountain beside the bed? Wouldn’t that make anyone who stayed here need to pee all the time?—he eventually asked, "About your career?"
Humming, I said, "He told me I was stupid to risk it all when I should have known nothing would change."
Aidan frowned. "Nothing would ever change if people didn’t try to make a difference."
"Exactly!" I stopped peering at the fountain that was somehow like a waterfall running down exposed brickwork, and twisted around to stare at him. "He said I was an idealistic no hope and that—"
He arched a brow at me when I stopped, too mad, still fuming enough that it made the words hard to get out. Of course, he then proceeded to stun the fuck out of me by drifting toward me, not stopping until we were standing in front of one another again, and his hand moved up to cup my chin. As his thumb stroked along my bottom lip, I was pretty sure I’d died and gone to heaven.
"And that...?" he asked softly.
"I’d have been better off being like Aspen and Paris."
"I’m not sure what that means? Snowy in winter and rainy in spring?"
I had to grin. "I meant, my siblings." Despite how goddamn mad I was at Camden, I laughed. "Although they do both those things too."
"Snow and rain? Seems like they’re more active than your brother realizes."