A wry smile tugged at my lips as I leaned in, my lips brushing against the back of his neck. “What?”
The bike wobbled slightly, but he readjusted, setting a calm pace down the road. I pulled back again, my hands dropping from him completely.
“Put them back,” he said.
“No. There’s no point. You want to keep it hidden forever and I don’t. There’s no fixing what we want, so it’s done.”
He cursed under his breath, pulling off into a secluded overlook, tires biting into the gravel and sending tiny rocks skittering as he killed the engine.
The second he pulled his helmet off, I saw it—the fire in his eyes, the war raging beneath his skin. He was holding on by a thread and I loved it.
Every inch of him was taut, coiled like a predator ready to strike, and it made my pulse spike. I loved it.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he snapped, voice low and edged with danger.
I swung off the bike and ripped my helmet away, letting my hair spill free. “What? Is me telling you exactly what’s happening an issue?”
“No,” he growled, taking a step closer, the space between us shrinking with every heartbeat. “You backing out before it even started—that’s the issue. I’m not going to blow everything up only for you to run the second something isn’t perfect.”
My chest tightened, heat pooling low and high at the same time. I could feel the raw intensity radiating off him, the pull between us so sharp it could cut. I wanted to challenge him, wanted to see exactly how far he would push before losing control.
“Perfect? Do you actually think what is happening here has been perfect at all? Yeah, a love story for the ages, Ace. One day I blackmailed the man of my dreams, and then he was forced into finally falling for me.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he looked back down the empty street before turning back to me.
“Am I supposed to be the man of your dreams?”
“Oh, screw you, Aiden. Who else would I be talking about?”
A sheepish grin spread over his face, but I knew whatever was about to come out of it would piss me off.
“Well, I wasn’t sure if—”
“If you say the name Asher anywhere in that sentence I will take your bike right back to his house.” I flipped my hair, stepping closer to the bike. “But you know what, now that I think about it, Asher would be happy to call Rook up and tell him we are together, unlike you, who wants to keep it a secret until we’re eighty and no one can even swing a fist.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily wait until we were eighty. Maybe sixty? He could still swing, but it wouldn’t hurt as bad,” Aiden said, a cocky grin on his face.
“Forget this,” I said, shaking my head as I turned to walk away. “I don’t care if I have to walk back. I’m not standing here letting you mock me all night.”
Before I could take another step, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me back—hard.
I gasped as I collided with his chest, my hands slamming against his shoulders.
His grip on my wrist was tight, his other hand grabbing my other arm as he backed me up against the bike.
“I told him once,” he said with a quiet urgency in his tone. His head dropped with a sigh as he continued his confession. “A few years ago, I told Rook one time that I did like you.”
A pang of guilt stabbed me. He’d risked everything by even admitting that years ago, and now I’d spent months forcing him to admit it again. How many times had I pushed him to the edge without even realizing it?
I pulled back, shock moving up my arm. “What?”
“It was before he talked about any rules or the leaving you alone shit. I told him that you were fucking amazing, a dream come true, and I told him I had always liked you.”
“Oh my god, what did he say?”
“He punched me in the face. Hard.” Aiden grinned, his fingers continuing their lazy circles on my thigh. “Then he made sure it was clear that having both you and having the life I was building would never be an option. That he wouldn’t jeopardize your comfort for any crush I had. I thought it would go away. That I would listen to him and life would go back to normal at some point.”
“And then you honored his demands so hard I thought you hated me.”
