His thumb moved over my jaw, caressing my face with a gentle touch I leaned into.
And that’s when I realized where I was.
Straddling Aiden.
And not just straddling him—pressed against him. The heat of his body burning through my shirt, the tension crackling like an electric wire between us.
He must have realized it, too, because his hands froze.
I shifted—a small, subtle movement—but not subtle enough.
His fingers stilled against my skin. His jaw clenched tight, the muscle twitching like a live grenade. His hips shifted beneath me, and I could read the discomfort across his face as easily as any computer code.
He definitely noticed, too.
I smiled, slow and dangerous, before I sank down farther, the heat growing as we got closer. His sharp inhale made me pause, wondering if he liked this or was already debating how to get out of this.
His fingers dug into my hips harder, and before I could push him further—before I could get one last hit of satisfaction—he lifted me up and threw me off him.
Not gently, either.
I hit the couch, letting out a grunt and blinking up at him as he stood over me. A hand dragged down his face as if he were physically erasing what happened.
He let out a slow, steady exhale. “You were having a nightmare.” As if I didn’t know. “I thought you stopped breathing there for a minute. I didn’t know what to do.”
“And all you came up with if I stopped breathing was to shake me?” I asked with a hint of a smile. “Remind me not to come to you for medical emergencies.”
“Well, you were drooling so mouth-to-mouth wasn’t exactly an option.”
“How sweet. Here I thought you were holding me because you cared.”
“No. I’ve just heard all the stories about people choking on their own spit.”
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Right. And that’s why you threw me off like I was diseased? Because of the drool?”
He finally turned, but his expression was unreadable. Cold and controlled, he turned right back into the Aiden I knew so well.
“I was trying to make sure you were okay,” he said, his voice tight.
Something inside me twisted hard.
It shouldn’t have hurt. It shouldn’t have bothered me. It’s not like we hadn’t been through this before. Aiden would get close, I would push for more, and he would push me away in whatever way he could.
And yet, it still did.
Because once again, it wasn’t me he cared about—it was keeping his word to Rook.
I shot up from the couch, ignoring the lingering chill in my chest, the way my hands still shook from the dream.
“Goodnight, Ace. I will relieve you of your guard duty of making sure I don’t die tonight and head to bed.”
I left without another word, not waiting for a response from him. I didn’t want to hear the indifferent tone he had toward me anymore.
If one thing ran in our family, it was a need for revenge. Unlike my brother, though, my revenge was on a scale smaller than hunting a man down and killing him.
Okay,never say never, but killing Aiden wasn’t on my to-do list.
I padded my way down the hall, reaching my room without even realizing it.
