Aiden
EVEN THOUGH SHE protested, I made her take more painkillers, and she slept. We watched a movie, and it seemed natural to sit on the sofa with her head on my knee. I massaged her neck and shoulder until she fell asleep, then indulged myself and ran my fingers through her long, thick hair. It was soft on my skin. I answered a few texts from Maddox and Bent, but I had no desire to move, or to find some task to do as I normally would if I were alone. Even when the movie ended, I didn’t move.
I was strangely content with her.
With Cami beside me, the silence didn’t seem as loud.
Instead, it felt comfortable. There was a sense of peace I’d never associated with quiet before. No voices in my head reminding me what a failure I was. No memories tearing at the edges of my mind, making me anxious.
I stared down at her sleeping form, silently thanking her for her unknown gift. Leaning back, I allowed my eyes to shut and my thoughts to drift, enjoying the unexpected moment.
A while later, Cami stirred. She sat up, grimacing.
“I fell asleep again.”
“It’s fine. You need to heal.”
“This must be boring for you, Aiden. All I do is fall asleep on you.”
“No,” I answered, running a hand over my head. “I’m finding it quite relaxing, to be honest. It’s a pleasant surprise.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Silence was all I had growing up, Cami. Everyone ignored me, for the most part. My bedroom was in the basement away from the rest of my family. I spent most of my time alone.” I laughed bitterly. “It’s not like today where kids are surrounded by distractions—streaming music, phones, tablets, a TV in their room, video games. I was just alone. Reading wasn’t a good option, although I did try. I didn’t have much for toys or entertainment. So there was just silence. I grew to hate it. Yet today, with you, I’m enjoying the peaceful time.”
“It was the opposite for me,” she whispered, shifting closer. “There was never any silence. Before my dad left, all they did was fight. I hated the screaming and yelling. My mom would throw things, and my dad would slam doors. My mom wasn’t very stable—mentally. She obsessed over things, especially my dad. When he walked out, she lost it.” Cami shut her eyes, shaking her head at the memories. “After he left, she began listening to music at all hours. Loud, angry music. She blared the TV and talked all the time. Yelled at us. Especially me.”
“Why you?”
“I wasn’t planned. I was a big oops for them. She told me once I was a ‘mistake.’ She never should have had me, because I ruined her marriage.”
“That’s a shitty thing to say to a kid.”
She slid her hand over to mine, entwining our fingers. “We’ve both had shitty things said to us, haven’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“But I had Dee. She tried to comfort me, told me my mom was sick and didn’t mean what she said. Dee didn’t know Mom had said it before.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, the action causing a grimace of pain to cross her face. “I didn’t want Dee to know.”
“You know you weren’t the cause of their breakup, right?”
“I know. My mom drove him away with her crazy behavior. She refused help, and he couldn’t handle it. I never understood why he left us behind, though.” She cleared her throat. “I guess we just weren’t enough for him. He got a new family.”
My heart ached for her. I squeezed her hand. “That’s on him, not you. It sounds as if we both got the short end of the stick when it came to parents.”
She wiped away a stray tear. “Thank God for Dee. She protected me whenever she could. She would sing me to sleep and make sure I was okay.” She bit her lip, looking at me. “You didn’t have anyone.”
“No.”
“Aiden—”
It was too close and too personal. I pulled back my hand and stood. “I’m starving, so I’m going to order pizza. Then more pills for you.”
“So I’ll sleep and not bother you?” she asked, hurt showing in her eyes.
I traced her cheek, hating the pain I saw, pain I knew I caused from shutting her out yet again. “No, so you can heal. I’m going to do some range of motion exercises with you, then rub you down. Believe me, you’ll want both the pills and the sleep.” I softened my voice. “I’m not good at this, Cami. I’m not trying to be an asshole. My past . . .” I huffed out a long breath of air. “My past needs to stay in the past.”
She hesitated, the sadness remaining in her gaze, but she didn’t push. “Okay. The local pizza number is on the fridge. It’s down the block. We usually pick it up, but I think they deliver.”
“I’ll go get it. I could do with some fresh air and exercise.”
I had to get away from her. Those green eyes saw too much and made me feel too much. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
Cami snored when she was extremely tired. A strange little snorting sound that I found amusing. She had been quiet during lunch, but I had gotten her to smile with a few Maddox and Bentley stories. Those always made her grin. After eating, some light exercises, and another massage, she had fallen asleep once again. I carried her to her room and placed her on the bed, needing to do a few things for Bentley.
I pulled her door shut and walked to the kitchen to grab a water. I was glad my laptop had been in my trunk, and I’d brought it up with me when I picked up the pizza. I worked for a while, pausing when I heard a quiet knock on the door. It was, in fact, so quiet I wasn’t sure it was Cami’s door until I heard it again.
I strode to the door, opening it swiftly. A girl stepped back at the suddenness of the movement, her eyes wide and startled.
“Oh, ah, I was looking for Cami.” She glanced at the door. “Do I have the wrong apartment?”
“No. She’s resting.”
“Oh, um . . .” She thrust out a pad of paper. “She wasn’t in class this morning. I took notes for her.”
“That was nice of you. Did you want to come in? She’ll wake up soon, I’m sure.”
She nodded a bit wildly, and I opened the door wider. She skirted around me, and I followed her to the living room. She perched on the chair as if ready to bolt at any moment, and I sat across from her. Trying to make her more comfortable, I stretched out my hand. “I’m Aiden.”
She looked at my hand, then shook it fast, her skin cold and clammy. “Louisa.”
I held up the pad. “This will help her a lot. She was worried about missing class.”
She scowled, her fingers flexing. “I always take notes for her. She should have known I would help her out. I always do.”
She seemed almost defensive, as if Cami had affronted her by being worried.
“She’s on some strong pain medication. She might not be thinking straight.”
That seemed to mollify her.
She inched closer to the edge of her chair. “I heard she’d been hurt.”
“She fell down the stairs. She’ll be okay in a couple of days.”
I’ll make sure of it, I thought grimly.
“It was my fault,” she whispered.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Pardon me?”
“She had my notebook, and I needed it back. If I hadn’t insisted she meet me to give it back, then she wouldn’t have fallen.”
“I don’t think you can blame yourself for an accident. Cami doesn’t hold you responsible.”
She frowned, seeming to think it over. Then she blurted, “Are you her boyfriend?”
I inhaled hard at her question. “Ah, no. We’re friends. I came over to make sure she was all right.”
“Oh. Don’t you work?”
I chuckled. She was a strange little thing. Small and pale, she seemed to have unnaturally dark hair for her complexion. She had purple highlights similar to Cami’s, but they weren’t as attractive somehow. Maybe it was her expression. Dour, as if nothing pleased her. She seemed ill at ease in her own skin. Plus, she was all over the place emotionally.
She had been shy, defensive, regretful, and now curious. All in the span of about five minutes. The words high maintenance came to mind.
“I work with Emmy’s boyfriend. I assume you know Emmy?”
Her face changed, and she glowered. “Emmy should be here. If she were a real friend, she would be. I came all the way here to bring Cami notes!”
I didn’t like the distaste I could hear in her tone. “Emmy is her friend, and I’m very fond of her. I came to help out, so they don’t both miss school.”
She let out a strange noise, somewhere between a huff and a curse. I racked my brain, trying to figure out if Cami had ever mentioned her. She didn’t seem like the kind of person Cami would be friends with. She was very high-strung.
“What did you say your last name was again?” I asked.
“I didn’t.”
Before I could say anything else, she jumped up out of her chair. “I have to go.” She grabbed the pad of paper from my hand. “I’ll keep this in case she can’t come tomorrow, and I’ll add to it. That’s what a real friend does.”
Before I could react, she bolted out the door, leaving it open behind her.
I stared after her, confused, and got up to shut the door.
Cami came down the hall, scratching her head and looking sleepy. “Did I hear voices?”
I locked the door. “Yeah, a friend from school came to drop off some notes for you.”
“That was nice. Who was it?”
“Louisa?” I asked, watching her face.
“Oh. I’m surprised she came here on her own. She complains about coming for our group because it’s a long walk from the bus.”
“You’re only half a block from the subway.”
“She hates the subway. She doesn’t like to be underground.”
I sat down, observing her closely as she took a seat, slowly, but not as stiff as yesterday.
“You know her well?”
“No. She’s a bit . . .”
“Odd?” I finished. “I think I scared her. She bolted out of here like a frightened rabbit.”
“Were you being Mr. Security?”
“No.” I chuckled. “We were just talking. I did ask her what her last name was, though. She left.”
“She doesn’t like talking to strangers. I’m shocked she came in once she saw you.”
“She didn’t stay long, and she stayed as far away as possible. What is her last name, by the way?”
Her brow furrowed. “Um, Ken . . . No, Ker-something.” She snapped her fingers. “Kershaw.”
“She was high-strung.”
Cami yawned. “Relax, Aiden, she always is. But for the most part, she is kind. Where are the notes?”
“Oh, she, ah, took them back to add to them in case you didn’t go to school tomorrow.”
“I don’t have class with her tomorrow.” She looked perplexed. “Like I said, odd. I’ll get them when I see her in class next time.”
“Does she change her highlights like you do as well?”
“She doesn’t have highlights.”
“She did today. Two thick purple ones.”
“Those must stand out in her hair. It’s such a pale brown.”
“Dark. Her hair was dark. Like yours.”
Cami looked shocked. “Wow. That must be new.”
“It looked strange on her. Like it didn’t fit, somehow.”
“I guess it was time for a change. We girls like that, you know. She’s unusual, but she’s still a girl.”
I smiled since I would never understand the way women thought. I hadn’t changed the way I looked in years. They seemed to like to reinvent themselves often.
“Are you good friends?”
“No, just schoolmates. I have coffee with her on occasion. She seems lonely, and I hate being mean.”
For some reason, I was glad. It didn’t surprise me that Cami was kind, but Louisa didn’t seem the sort of person I could see her being friends with. Although it was none of my business. The bottom line was it didn’t matter what I thought of Louisa. I doubted I would ever see her again.
I changed the subject. “How do you feel?”
“Better.”
“Good.”
She reached out her hand. “Thank you, Aiden. For everything.”
I wrapped mine around her outstretched palm.
“You’re welcome.”
Cami
Aiden stayed again, after spending the rest of the afternoon and evening. We’d settled on the sofa, watched another movie, and he had rubbed my neck until I fell asleep. I woke a few hours later, thirsty and achy, and I stood carefully so I didn’t disturb him. He was asleep on the end of the sofa, his feet kicked up on the coffee table. He looked peaceful, something I was sure was rare for him.
He appeared in the kitchen doorway while I was getting a glass of water, blinking and clearly worried.
“Are you all right?”
“Just a headache.”
“You didn’t have any pills before you fell asleep.” He held out his hand. “I’ll get you some, and you can go to bed.”
Obediently, I swallowed the pills and lay back down. I fidgeted, trying to get comfortable, and failing.
“What hurts, Sunshine?”
His endearment got me every time. I swallowed, not wanting him to know how it affected me.
“My shoulder. It hurts more than my knee.”
“You hit your knee on the stairs. You landed on your shoulder. Full-body impact.”
I snorted. “Yes. The weight ratio would be far greater.”
He crouched beside the bed. “Don’t you start with that bullshit.” He ran his hand down my side, resting his palm on my hip. “You’re perfect.”
I shut my eyes. “Well, there was a lot of perfectness on my shoulder.”
To my shock, he snapped off the light, then slid in behind me, caressing my neck and shoulders. “Give the pills a chance to work.” His gentle fingers slid along my skin. “Relax, Cami,” he crooned. “Just relax.” He started a circuit, slow and gentle, pressing and stroking. Never too hard, never too soft. His fingers found the pain, easing away the ache, then moving to the next spot.
I could feel every inch of him behind me, his firm chest close to me, touching my back as he breathed. His legs pressed along my calves, hard muscle to the soft curve of me. His breath was warm on my skin. He gathered my hair away from my neck, kneading at the sore muscles, making me feel better.
“I love your hair.”
His voice was low in the dark.
“Oh.”
“It’s so soft.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I hummed.
“I hate that you’re hurt,” he admitted. “I hate that more than anything.”
“I’m okay. You’ve helped me so much.” Unable to resist, I reached up and found his hand, threading my fingers with his. “I like having you here.”
He stilled, and I was about to release his hand and move away when he did the unexpected. He slid his arm under me, tucking me close to his chest.
“I have to be here, Cami. I need to make sure you’re okay,” he whispered, so quietly, I knew he didn’t want me to hear his confession.
I didn’t respond. The moment was too intimate, too overwhelming for us. Something was changing, and I needed to let it take root and grow.
I settled back, the heat of his body helping to dissipate the pain. With a sigh, I fell asleep, wrapped in his arms.
The next day, I only went to school in the afternoon, and I couldn’t wait to leave. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be there; I was still achy and sore, and I couldn’t concentrate. I fidgeted at my desk, rotating my neck to stretch it the way Aiden had shown me. I rolled my shoulders and sighed as the action eased the tension I felt. Then I tried again to focus on class. It was a lost cause today.
All I could think about was Aiden and his caring behavior toward me. What it meant—at least, to me.
He checked in with me to see how I was doing during the day and wasn’t happy when I told him I was attending my afternoon classes, but I insisted. I should have listened to him.
I was surprised and pleased to find him waiting for me when I left, insisting on driving me home.
“Dee is back tonight?” he asked as he pulled up outside our apartment building.
“Yes.”
“Okay, good. You’re not alone.”
“No.”
“All right.”
I slid out of the car, unsure what to do or say. He solved my dilemma by joining me on the sidewalk, telling me he would check on me later. He hesitated, then gently pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head.
“Call me if you need me, okay, Sunshine? I’ll be right there if you do.”
I watched as Aiden got back in the car, wishing I were brave enough to ask him to stay.
I had to remind myself to take baby steps. The ball was in his court.
Watching him drive away was one of the hardest things I had done in a long time.