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He kept glaring at me, that look that got on my nerves taking over his features inch by inch. “That’s stupid. You’re—what? Five seven? Five eight? A hundred and forty pounds? You can’t walk around Las Vegas by yourself,” he stressed, his tone so tight I reeled back.
I blinked in confusion and surprise. “Aiden, it isn’t a big deal. I’m used to doing things by myself.”
The lids over those big, brown eyes lowered slowly, a deep breath blowing from pursed lips, as if we were the only people on the Strip when that absolutely wasn’t anywhere close to the truth. “Maybe you’re used to doing things by yourself, but don’t be an idiot.” He started off calmly, totally in control. “I didn’t know where you were. There’s crime here—don’t give me that face. I know there’s crime everywhere. We might not be doing this for the reasons most people do, but I made a vow, Van. And I promised you we would try to be friends. Friends don’t let friends wander around alone.” He pinned me with a glare. “You aren’t the only one who takes their promises seriously.”
Uh. What was happening?
Those dark eyes were the steadiest thing I’d ever seen as he said, “I can’t do this without you.”
Well, shit. I wasn’t sure I even knew how to talk after that.
Our marriage—vomit, hurl, and diarrhea—wasn’t real, but he had a point. We had made vows I couldn’t seem to remember because I hadn’t been listening. But the point was, we had made promises to each other even before that, and I didn’t ever want to be the type of person who backed out on their word.
“I won’t go anywhere until you’re a resident, big guy. I promise.”
His gaze swept over my face for the longest second of my life, and eventually, eventually, he cleared his throat. “What is it you want to do?” he grumbled suddenly, as if he hadn’t just said the most meaningful words I’d ever heard come out of his mouth.
To give him credit, he didn’t complain once after I told him the name of the production I wanted to go watch. But I was also clasping my hands together in front of my chest like I was a little kid begging for something. “It’s all I want to go see.”
And I was going to do it regardless of whether he tagged along or not, but he didn’t need to know that yet.
He simply looked back up at the non-existent Nevada stars and sighed. “Fine, but I need to get something to eat afterward.”
I might have bounced up to my toes. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Really-really?” I swear I might have been beaming.
Aiden gave me the most pained nod in the history of the world. “Yes. Sure. Let’s go buy the tickets.”
I’d never in my life wanted to pull a Dorothy and click my heels together, but the idea of not walking around Vegas by myself, and with this gigantaur who could have passed for a bodyguard, I found myself grinning at him and clapping. “Okay, let’s go.”
For the sake of his life, I decided to ignore the grimace on his face.
Off we went. The hotel was on the opposite side of the Strip, but we made it with time to spare, snagging the two best tickets possible, which I paid for since I felt guilty he’d been paying for everything, and they were third row seats, so I figured it would be worth every penny spent dipping into my savings.
As we got in line at the concession stand, I could feel myself shaking for the second time in the same day, but this time it was with excitement. Cirque du Lune had come to Dallas in the past, but I’d always talked myself out of shelling out the cash to go. Now that I wasn’t paying rent and business was steady, spending the money didn’t send me into heart palpitations, or falling over with guilt over the extravagance. Plus, I was so pumped, I even signed the receipt with a smile on my face.
“Do you want to share a popcorn?” I asked after we got into the super-long line at the concession stand, so overjoyed I didn’t care that the popcorn was going to cost an arm and a leg.
He started to dip his chin just as I spotted a finger reaching up to tap his arm from behind. Aiden hesitantly turned to come face-to-face with a woman in her forties and a man in the same age range. They were both smiling.
“Could we take a picture with you?” the woman blurted out, her cheeks coloring.
“We’re huge fans,” the man added, his face more red than pink.
“We’ve been following your career since Michigan,” the woman continued on in a rush.
Aiden did that tiny little half-assed smile he conjured up for fans as he nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” That big head turned to face me. “Take the picture?”
The woman smiled sheepishly at me before handing over her phone. I got the camera in focus as the older couple sandwiched Aiden between them—they looked so small in comparison!—and was taking a step back when I caught movement in the sliver of space between Aiden and the female fan. He never put his arm around people in pictures, I’d noticed from the beginning, but always kept his hands at his sides. It was because of that, that I almost missed the small hand motion, but I didn’t, and when Aiden scowled almost immediately, it took everything inside of me not to burst out laughing as I took the shot.
By the time I handed the phone over, we were next in line, and I left Aiden to finish listening to his handsy fans as I ordered popcorn with no butter, a medium soda, and a bottle of water.
“It was so nice meeting you!” the woman called out as Aiden headed toward me once I was out of line.
