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I won’t be sharing his smiles with Silver or anyone else.
He seals his lips against mine, biting my bottom lip into his mouth and pulls away too fast. “Now, say it.”
“Say what?” I pant.
“Say that you choose me.”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Say the words, Elsa.”
My arms wrap around his neck and I graze the hairs at the back of his neck. “It’s crazy, but I choose you, Aiden.”
His mouth claims mine as his fingers grab a handful of my hair, releasing it from the band. His hand snakes under my arse and I lift myself, wrapping my legs around his lithe waist. I’m lost in the moment. In him. Everything seems to be moving way too fast and in a direction I don’t recognise.
But I’m done pretending he means nothing. I’m done fighting against myself and the pull he has on me.
My fingers thread into his hair as I open up to him. His other hand grips my hip, pulling me against his hard muscles. My breasts crush into his chest and suddenly, I hate our clothes. I hate my tracksuit and his jersey. I hate that my skin can’t be glued to his.
The need to engrave myself in him hits me again.
It’s a strange, sporadic urge that overwhelms me and refuses to let go.
I rub my stomach against his growing erection. The sense of time and space escapes me in a heartbeat. In a moment, I picture us in a room. There’s no one but the two of us in that room. It’s quiet except for our harsh breathing.
Footsteps pound beyond the room’s door. I continue kissing Aiden, not wanting to break the spell.
Something nags at the back of my mind. My limbs start to tremble and my shoulder blades stiffen with black, deep fear.
“He’s coming,” I whisper against Aiden’s mouth.
The school’s backyard comes back into focus, and Xander’s blonde hair peeks from behind the corner. “Coach is after your arse, King.”
Aiden’s dark attention stays on me.
It’s like he knows that I didn’t mean Xander or anyone here when I said ‘He’s coming.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
During practice, Aiden throws me grins every chance he gets. My cheeks flame at the attention he draws towards me.
Even the girls on the track team — who rarely talk to me — nudge me a few times. They were never mean to me, but they never bothered with me before either.
Once practice is over, I linger back and glance one last look at the football pitch.
I don’t need to search for Aiden since he’s running in my direction.
He has such breathtaking athletic ease when he runs. His form is taught, graceful, and full of so much confidence. He reaches me in a few seconds, his jet black hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his breathing controlled.
Almost everyone in my immediate surrounding grows silent as if they’re watching the show.
I fidget, feeling uncomfortable with all the attention. It’s different from bullying, but it’s attention all the same.
Being under the spotlight causes my skin to prickle, but since I’ve gotten involved with Aiden, I should’ve known that he comes with attention plastered all over him.
I clear my throat. “Nice game.”
He tilts his head to the side. “If you replied two days ago, I would’ve had an actual nice official game and wouldn’t have Coach breathing down my neck.”
