Chapter Eighteen
Emma
My fist landed on Kenneth’s chest. I didn’t hurt him, but I did manage to distract them both from their pissing contest. I also really injured my hand in the process. Crap…it hurts.
I don’t remember much after that except Aiden shoving Kenneth. Aiden helping me down the stairs. Aiden hailing us a cab. Aiden telling me it would be okay. Aiden sitting me on the couch of his hotel room and getting an ice pack for my hand. Somewhere during all that, I finally breathe.
“How do you feel?” he asks. I try not to snatch my hand away as the ice stings my skin.
“Craptastic…you?”
“Frustrated. Why did you do that?”
I tilt my head toward him. “Partly because I wanted to and partly because I didn’t want you to.”
“You telling me you were protecting me from him?”
“I was protecting you from yourself.”
“I can control myself. I don’t need your help,” he says, his tone ripe with irritation.
“And I don’t need yours, but I’m grateful for it anyway.” I yelp when I try to shake out my hand. “Why does it hurt so much?”
“First rule of punching someone—always keep your thumb on the outside of your fist. You tucked yours inside.”
I suck in a deep breath. “I knew that.”
“At least it’s not broken.”
I try to hold my emotions in and pretend I’m brave. I could deal with the physical pain on its own, or even the emotional pain, but both at once puncture my defenses.
“You can cry, Emma.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t have to. Just cry.”
I bury my head against his chest and let it out. Aiden rubs my back in slow circles.
My cell phone buzzes on the table. Aiden looks at the screen and hands it to me.
“It’s Natalie.”
“I don’t want to talk to her.”
“It’ll probably make you feel better. She can even come over here if you’d like. Or I can take you to her.”
Aiden must have missed Kenneth’s horrible admission. He is trying to help me, and it’s clear from the way he looks he’s really worried.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Kenneth slept with her.”
“Shit. I didn’t realize.”
The phone goes off again when Kenneth calls. Aiden switches it off and throws it on the cushioned chair next to us.
Then I cry harder before the tears finally go silent.
He gets up.
“Where are you going?”
“To get another room. We’ll need it.” He gestures to my small suitcase. “I already brought your bag in.”
My voice sounds weak and pathetic, even to me. “Don’t leave me alone.”
He pauses, studying me for a minute. “It’s not a good idea.”
“I’ll keep my hands off you, Sheffield.” I cup my hurt hand in my good one. “I’d be playing injured, anyway.” I fake a laugh that turns into a sob.
He puts his arms around me. “Please, Emma, tell me what to do. I’m not good at comforting people.”
“Just be with me right now.”
We sit for a while in silence.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“A little. You?”
“Always.”
“Let’s eat, then.”
“I’ll get us something. Keep that ice on your hand. Otherwise it’ll swell. And don’t turn your phone back on.”
“I won’t.”
I keep the ice pack on until numbness replaces the pain then go to clean up in the bathroom. I almost shriek at the sight of my smeared, puffy face. I use my good hand to scrub off my makeup, and when Aiden returns, I’m showered and in my PJs.
“The fun bun is back,” he says, depositing several bags on the coffee table. He uncaps a bottle of aspirin, handing me two pills and a bottle of water.
“Yeah, nothing makes a girl feel better than a fun bun and flannel pajamas.”
“What about tacos? Would they make a girl feel better?”
“They’d go a long way in helping the cause.”
He places a bottle of Bacardi and a few cans of soda on the table. “I never got a chance to buy the second round.” He looks down at my watch. “It’s still your birthday.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
He holds up the bottle. “If you have enough of this, you’ll forget.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
I mix mine with Coke and ice. He takes his straight and neat. We munch on our tacos. I try to find the right words to convey how I feel.
“I’m not a virgin,” I blurt out. Okay, where the hell did that come from? Definitely not the right words.
He stares at me for a second before busting out a hearty laugh. “Good for you.”
I do a face-palm, which hurts because of my stupid hand. I spread my fingers, peeking at him. He winces on my behalf. “I don’t know why I said that. I have no excuse except sometimes my mouth moves and crazy comes out.”
“Well, thanks for sharing. I’m not one, either.” No kidding. “I’m not into virgins if that’s what you were thinking.”
“I’m glad, ’cause that’s a little creepy.”
“Yeah, it is creepy,” he says, doing a thumbs-up sign. We both start cracking up.
“Let’s lay down our cards for once.”
“Call it, Cliché Queen.”
“There is this weird sexual current between us, but I don’t think we should give in to it. We need to keep our focus on the mission.”
“What are we…secret agents?”
I laugh, wondering how it’s possible to conjure laughter right now. I didn’t break up with Kenneth solely because of Aiden. We were broken long before then. But at the same time, I don’t want to give in to this lust. After this trip, will I even see him again? There is only so much a heart can take, and mine is weak to begin with. “When this is over, I don’t want to be even more fucked up than I am right now. You understand?”
He nods, slowly. “Yes. You’re vulnerable, and I’d be taking advantage of that. The stakes are too high. I fold.”
“We agree, then?”
“Yeah, we agree. We’d really fuck each other up.”
I focus on tiny bubbles in my drink. I expected him to fold, but the fact that he said the stakes are too high makes me think that his feelings run deeper.
“I don’t know who I am around you, Cooper. You were right. I lost control for a minute. You’ve seen me at my worst, but I swear I’m usually a very disciplined person. With you, though…well, let’s just say I’m losing my grip on the reins. I say and do things I normally wouldn’t.”
“Me, too.”
He claps his hands together. “We done douching away my masculinity?”
I throw a cushion at him. “You have plenty to spare, but yes.”
Once we clear the table, he moves it farther from the couch. He takes the other stuff out of the grocery bags, tossing a few packages of candy on top of it.
“What’s all this?”
He takes out a deck of cards, waving them. “Are you in?”
I smile because this is exactly the kind of distraction I need. “All in.” We sit on the floor across from each other.
Aiden divvies up the candy between us. “The chocolate is worth twenty, the licorice is ten, and the Jolly Ranchers are five.”
“Makes sense.”
“I’ll do all the shuffling so you don’t use your hand too much.”
“Just don’t go all mechanical on me,” I say. “No cheating.”
His face turns serious. “I’m not a cheater, Emma, and neither are you. I’m sorry for what I said at the bar. I should not have put you in that position. It was out of line.”
“We’ll just be careful to stay in the lines from now on.”
Aiden nods. The cards move lightning quick. His hands are large…massive, really, but they handle the deck elegantly. He weaves the cards in one hand. The sound of the stiff paper as it slides against the deck is audible. Then he rifles them together, bending the cards slightly before releasing the pressure, cascading them. They topple onto each other, in something that sounds a lot like a skin slapping skin. Why is this so fucking arousing?
“That’s enough!” I say. He gives me an odd look. “They’re shuffled enough.”
“As you wish.” He slides them over to offer me a cut. I tap on the deck. “You’re not taking a cut?”
“Just deal already.”
I sip my drink. “Did you get straws?”
“Nope.”
“That’s okay, I can make my own.” I take a piece of licorice and bite off both ends before depositing it into my drink.
He tilts his head. “You’re so weird.”
“Weird or incredibly inventive?”
“Incredibly weird.” He takes a piece of licorice and does the same thing. “But I like your brand of weird.”
An hour later, I pop another green apple Jolly Rancher in my mouth.
“If you keep eating your chips, I’ll win by default, “Aiden says.
I look over at our uneven piles. “I’ll take my chances. Are you letting me win?”
“Easy, Slick. You’re just getting lucky.” He looks at my hoard of candy. “Also, you’re better than me.” The way he says that last line a little slower than the first makes it sound deeper.
“I’ll have mercy on you. We can call it quits.”
I sit on the couch, bringing my legs up and resting my head on my knees. “You know what I feel about this whole mess, Aiden?”
“What?”
“Natalie and Kenneth were a big part of my life. We grew up together. Our parents were all friends. I couldn’t admit to myself how we were drifting apart. I clung to them like a life raft against the rising tide. They weren’t there for me when I really needed them, but I wanted so badly for things to stay the same, I never let myself see that. I was trying to hold on to something there because everything else was changing too fast. They gave me a false sense of stability amid the chaos.”
“I get it, Emma, but you don’t need a life raft. I have no doubt you’re a very strong swimmer.”
“I am. I’m sad, especially about Natalie, but I feel free, too. Like I can point to a map and go anywhere now. Be anywhere. I didn’t really want to move back to L.A., anyway. I wasn’t made for big cities.” The money I have will last longer somewhere else. I can find a small town and start fresh. The idea appeals to me.
He moves a plastic bag to sit next to me. An object falls out and thumps against the carpet. I pick up the pale shade of pink nail polish, wondering how it got in Aiden’s purchases.
I shake it toward him. “Pretty color, Sheffield, but I don’t think it’s your shade.”
“Funny, smart-ass, it’s for you.”
“Why?”
“When I stopped at a drug store to get the rum, I saw the candy and the polish by the checkout. I figured these were supplies a girl might need in this situation.”
“You think this is what girls do when they’re upset? Paint their nails and eat candy?”
His smile turns sheepish. “Pretty much.”
“Very sexist.”
He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I suppose.”
I smile. “And very sweet at the same time.” I twist the applicator open and brush the color along my toes. It’s a sad attempt. Someone should really revoke my girl card for the way I’m haphazardly spreading the lacquer. “Why this particular color?”
“Grabbed the first one I saw.”
“Really?”
“It reminds me of the shade your skin turns when you blush.”
“Oh.”
“Like right now,” he says, running his hands through his dark mane.
My fingers shake. The polish drips onto my skin.
He peers over at my toes. “You’re making a mess of it.”
“Well, I’m a little drunk right now, and my hand still hurts. I’m sure it’s ten times better than you can do.”
“Give it,” he says, gesturing to the polish.
I hand it over. He props my feet against his chest. I press in, but nothing moves; his mass is too solid.
“Stop it. You’re gonna get nail polish on my shirt.”
I keep my mouth snapped shut, afraid the moment will vanish. And this—him painting my nails—is an image I plan to enjoy. The only thing that makes it better is savoring a piece of chocolate while he does it. Oh…and maybe him taking his shirt off. But a girl can’t have everything. His usual steady fingers shake. “I don’t think I can stay in the lines, Emma.” He’s referring to something more than my toes.
His hand tightens around my heel. I suck in a breath as his thumb caresses my foot. My toes curl when he blows on them, his intense green eyes peering up at me. His expression borders lust and pain.
“We’re fucked,” I say.
“Royally,” he replies.
I’m not sure if I yank my foot away or he drops it.
“Bedtime,” he mutters, standing from the couch as if it’s on fire. “Night, Emma.”
Sweet dreams, Aiden.