Chapter 24

 

 

My cheesy fries taste even better than usual tonight. Or maybe it’s just my extraordinarily good mood that’s making everything better. The sun setting in the sky is more beautiful than I remember. The sound of dirt bikes on the track is like music to my ears. And the smell of Aiden’s cologne while he sits next to me on the bleachers must have some kind of magical powers because all I want to do is snuggle against him.

We’re already sitting close. My leg is up against his while we hang out near the top of the large metal bleachers that overlook the track. The races have begun, but we’re only a couple motos in to what will be a long night with at least twenty six different races. They’re separated out by ages and size of bikes. Right now the little kids are on the track, their tiny bikes barely making a sound as they cruise around slowly.

Aiden leans over and steals one of my cheesy fries. “These things are good.”

“I told you,” I say, taking another bite.

One girl walks up the bleachers, smiling at Aiden as he passes. He gives her a polite nod. When I was with Jay, I would get jealous of things like this, because it was always initiated by him. He flirted with girls all the time. But it’s different with Aiden. He’s a celebrity around here and people are drawn to him. He’s just being nice. His gaze doesn’t linger on the girl, and he doesn’t turn around to check out her ass like Jay would have done.

Being with Aiden makes me wonder how I ever put up with Jay in the first place. Aiden and I finish off my cheese fries, and suddenly there’s no reason for me to be here anymore.

“You wanna get out of here?” I ask.

The bright lights overhead make his eyes sparkle as they narrow at me. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

 

As soon as we get into my apartment, I shove the door closed behind us and lock it. I toss my truck keys on the table and then throw my arms around Aiden’s neck.

He chuckles as I lean against him, my fingers sliding through his air. “What’s this for?” he asks, his hands sending a shiver down my spine as they slowly move down my sides, stopping on my hips.

“I just really like you,” I say, gazing into his eyes. “How you handled Jay tonight… that was really great of you. It was sexy.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

I lean up on my toes and kiss him quickly. “It was really sexy. I like that you don’t have to act all macho.”

He shrugs. “I’m macho where it counts.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, poking him playfully in the chest. “And where does it count?”

“Right now,” he says, faking a caveman type voice. His hands slide under my butt and he pulls me toward him, then he lifts me off my feet, wrapping my legs around his waist.

I see him wince the second he does it, probably because his wrist shouldn’t be picking up fully grown women, but he tries to hide it.

I shimmy out of his arms. “Babe… your wrist is hurt. Stop picking me up.”

“I’m fine,” he says, but he’s holding his wrist now and his brows are pulled together, creasing his forehead. “Seriously. I’m fine. What kind of guy can’t pick up his own girlfriend?”

I roll my eyes. “A guy who just got his cast off. You big dork.”

I point to the couch. “Go sit down.”

He groans in protest and steps toward me until my back is against the wall. His good hand grabs my hip as he crushes his body against mine, his other elbow resting on the wall near my head.

“I don’t want to go to the couch,” he says, his voice a near growl in my ear. Heat rises up through my belly as he kisses my neck so softly that I barely feel it. “I want to go to the bed,” he whispers, his lips grazing my skin.

My breath catches. He kisses my neck, sending a trail of heat across my skin until he reaches my mouth. Our lips move urgently, passionately, our tongues finding each other.

Then I slowly pull away. The physical therapist in me is still worried about his wrist. “We have all night,” I say, giving him a look that I hope he understands as sincere. “Right now we need to take care of your wrist.”

He pouts out his bottom lip and I lean up on my toes and kiss it. “Go sit on the couch,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

He does as he’s told, and I grab the jar of emu oil from my medicine cabinet. This stuff works wonders on pain.

He’s sitting on my couch with his legs stretched out across it. I nudge his leg with my knee. “Move over.”

He gives me a devilish grin and opens his legs, patting to the space between them. I roll my eyes and settle myself on the couch, my back against his chest. This looks a lot like cuddling instead of therapy, but when he leans forward, brushing my hair over one shoulder, and kisses my neck, I suddenly have no objections.

“Give me your hand,” I say, my voice weak.

I take his wrist and rub the emu oil on it. Then I work my thumbs gently around it, massaging the tendons from his palm to his forearm.

His kisses stop momentarily and he sighs. “That feels amazing,” he says.

I glance back and grin. “Good.”

He kisses my cheek. I turn my attention back to his hand. His good hand holds onto my thigh, and it slowly creeps up higher to places that make my whole body tingle. I concentrate on his injury though, massaging it the way I’ve been taught in school.

After several minutes, Aiden’s good hand slides up even further, cupping my breast. His lips press to the back of my neck and I freeze, unable to concentrate on anything but the glorious feeling of his skin on mine. I feel his chest muscles flex as he leans forward, pressing us closer, his hand holding my breast while his lips trail kisses around to my shoulder and then collarbone. I hold his injured hand in both of mine, caught halfway between massaging it and wanting to close my eyes and take in Aiden’s gentle caresses.

I draw in a shuddering breath. “Okay. Therapy is over,” I say, letting go of his hand. I turn around so that I’m facing him, straddling his legs on the couch.

His tongue flicks across his lips and the smile he gives me is filled with naughty thoughts. I narrow my eyes and lean into him, kissing him hungrily while our bodies grind together. I want to rip his clothes off. But I also want to take my time.

I want to enjoy every moment with him.

“Baby,” he says, his lips still pressed to mine.

“Yeah?” I say back, lifting my head a little so I can look at him.

“Promise me this is going to work.”

There’s a seriousness in his eyes that takes me out of my love-drunk moment. I blink. “What do you mean?”

“Us,” he says, his eyes roaming my face. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I’m scared to death that I’ll lose you. We have a long journey ahead of us and I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

I shake my head and silence him with a kiss. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“What about the long distance? The traveling?”

I shrug. “We’ll figure it out.”

He closes his eyes briefly, inhaling a deep breath. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

I smile. “The feeling is mutual. Trust me.”

He reaches up, his fingers grazing my cheek. “This is real.”

It’s not a question. More like he’s saying it to reassure himself. I can’t lie—there’s worries in my mind as well, but I know that I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

“It works for Jett and Keanna,” I say. “And Zach and Bree. It’ll work for us.”

He pulls my head down and kisses my forehead. With his lips still pressed to my skin, he murmurs, “I love you. You don’t have to say it back yet, but I do. I love you so much.”

I look up and feel a warmth spread through my entire body. I know I don’t have to say it back, and all the reasons why come flying at me—it’s too soon, it’s a big commitment, it’s scary as hell.

But none of those reasons matter, because nothing has ever been so true in my entire life.

I look him right in the eyes. “I love you, too.”