Page 25 of Sick Little Devotion

My lips press together as Aiden walks a few steps in front of me. His broad shoulders, taut with muscle and brawn, and his biceps, veins bulging with strength, make me feel like I’m staring at the back of a man I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, Aiden was always strong but slender. This Aiden hits the gym. My mouth grows dry as my eyes sweep up the back of his neck, his golden-brown locks cut shorter than ever before.

He could pass for military. Or something.

I find myself trying to come up with an idea of what he could’ve possibly done to afford a house like this. What was he even doing right before he disappeared? I don’t have an answer. He wasn’t rich though, and he wasn’t going to college. Did he just run off and join the military?

No way. He would’ve told me… But would he have?

“You look perplexed, Sara,” Aiden rumbles as he comes to a sudden stop outside of two double doors. I stare at the black wood and golden handles. I almost laugh. It feels tacky—and so like Aiden to choose something like this.

“I’m fine,” I mutter finally when his eyes don’t leave mine. “Show me.”

He breaks into a smile that makes my stomach flip flop.

“Okay.”

He reaches for the handle and pushes the door in, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. Aiden is still able to get under my skin—but I’m still strong enough to push him out.

And I have to get out of here. I can’t play Aiden’s game. I don’t want my heart broken again, either.

“Take it in, Sara. This is ours.” Aiden says the words in a strange, vibrant tone, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it because as I sweep my eyes over the beautiful room with a canopy king-sized bed and stone floors, I see everything I ever wanted.

How dare he. Hot tears well up in my eyes, but I don’t think he realizes that they’re not because I’m happy. No, I’m not fucking happy at all.

I’m pissed.

“Just like the magazines you used to look at.” Aiden drapes his arm around my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I didn’t forget, Sara. I never forgot.”

“Mmm” is all I can manage to choke out. The heat from his touch leaves me with mixed emotions, but before I can even try to process them, he drops his arm. Aiden steps away from me, stripping out of his hoodie. Beneath it is a… dress shirt?

I raise my eyebrows at the sight. Aiden looks over at me, but he only smirks. He tosses the hoodie into a hamper and continues to strip down, removing the white dress shirt. Beneath it are layers of dark ink, covering his chiseled torso.

That’s new, too.

“You like it?” He runs his hands over his body, making his way to the V leading to his dark jeans.

I drown in the sight of him. What a masculine beauty veiled by a dark haze. I bet he’s fucked so many women. The thought is entirely unwanted, but I find myself pondering it. I have no idea who he is.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his hands dropping to the button on his jeans. “You are not into tattoos?”

“No, they’re fine,” I say, my eyes dropping from his. “I have some, too.”

“Let me see.”

Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.

“Um…” My voice trails off as he unbuckles his belt and drops his jeans, leaving him standing there in only a pair of boxer briefs. It’s sickeningly alluring, tugging at my core and begging me to just give into the deep desires churning in my chest. All I ever wanted was to have Aiden.

But now that he’s here… It’s all in the wrong way.

“Show me your tattoos, Sara,” he growls, taking a step toward me. The moonlight illuminates his chest, and I stare at his pecs as he comes within a few feet of me. “You don’t have to get naked. Just show me.”

I force myself to hold his gaze as I lift my oversized T-shirt. “I have this one.” I give him a small glimpse of the roses and vines on my ribcage.

He grins. “Very fitting for you. Any others?”

I shake my head. “That’s it. I should’ve just said tattoo.” My voice trembles as the words tumble out, and I have this strong urge to fall apart in Aiden’s arms. That’s what I used to do. He held me for hours—and now he feels like the enemy.

“Let’s go to bed.” Aiden looks away from me, and I can’t tell if he’s upset or indifferent. Maybe he didn’t like the tattoo? Or maybe I’m not what he wanted me to be. I take a few steps toward the bed, and then I hesitate.