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Fire glowed in his depths as he released me and put his hands in his pockets.
“I wasn’t ready for a relationship then, Aiden, and I’m not sure I can handle one now. But I think I wished you into my life. I saw whatever it was between us becoming more…something good. I wanted to try. I think we had a chance, but a large part of me will always love him, and I hate it that he got here first.” I held my hand over my chest. “Because I think if you had been first, I’d never have room for him.”
Aiden stayed silent as I pushed the ball into his court. He glared at me, unforgiving, as I put my hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear, “Some things are live in the moment only. I totally get that now. Thank you for teaching me.”
I nodded to Cedric, who was waiting patiently, and watching with hawk eyes. Geez, talk about lack of privacy.
“Why do you have a bodyguard?” I hid my elation at his questioning. I was sure he would let me leave him.
Oh, fuck…How do I tell him this?
“Nina,” he warned.
I squared my shoulders, wishing it were Sunday. “Your cousin’s wife tried to have me killed.”
Aiden looked skyward as if answers would come pouring out of it. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am…very. And so is Cedric.” I gave him a salute as he gave me an awkward wave, eyeing Aiden curiously. We’d become a team, Cedric and I, with one common goal. Keep Nina alive.
“So…” I jumped at his voice then turned to Aiden, who was staring at me intently. “Not only would I have to forgive you for him,” he said, his eyes blazing again as he glared at me, “but I’d also be putting my life in danger.”
I opened my mouth to speak but closed it. His words were truth; mine were useless.
After several long minutes, his frame shook with his chuckle as he closed the distance between us.
“Never a dull moment with you, Nina.” Before I could speak, he pulled me into his warmth, surrounding me. I wrapped myself around him, holding him tightly to me as he raked his fingers through my hair and stroked by back.
After a long moment, he stuck his finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “It seems your life really sucks without me.”
I shrugged in mock defense. “Hey, I’ll have you know Cedric is quite the gentlemen. He enjoys staring, waiting, and aerosol cheese.”
Aiden laughed as he looked down at me still in his arms.
“Can you forgive me, Aiden?”
“No, but I can buy you a drink.”
“I’ll take it.
” We walked up to Cedric, and I introduced the two. Cedric followed as I rode in Aiden’s Jeep with him to The Mystic. Cedric remained outside as we walked into the club. I cursed the giddy girl in me that was jumping for joy.
You don’t need him, Nina.
He sat next to me at what I thought of as our booth at The Mystic as I told him about the last few weeks. I kept Devin’s name out of my mouth as Aiden asked a question here or there but mostly let me talk. Aiden never touched me after our kiss on the beach. It was if my revelation had fully sunk in and he’d made his decision. I didn’t blame him.
With each hour that passed, I became more certain he was just being the good guy that he was, talking to a friend who’d had a rough couple of weeks. I envied his ability to keep his distance as my eyes lingered on his lips while he spoke. He asked me to stay for his first set, and I agreed, knowing it would be pure torture to see him in his element and that I could no longer have him.
You don’t need him, Nina.
His first song was Tom Petty’s “You Got Lucky,” and I knew he had intended it for me. It seemed his whole set was situated toward the two of us, or at least it seemed that way. He never sang directly to me, and I mourned that, thinking about the very open display we’d had the last time I was here. He was magnetic as he sang, drawing in a larger crowd, and my chest ached in longing for him. I watched his ticks as he sang: the tapping of his foot, the wetting of his lips, the ease in which he controlled the crowd. And I was smitten. By the time his set was near its end, he had a standing room full of screaming women, and I found myself eyeing the more aggressive predators with distaste. I was jealous. Of course I was jealous.
God, I fucked up.
When he started his own version of Bruno Mars’s “Gorilla,” the bar literally went up in flames as he tore the song apart with his vocals. I felt the low-lying, recently absent ache start to brew between my thighs and crossed my legs as I watched him, mesmerized. Seconds later, my chest heaving, I gripped the sides of my seat, lips parted as he finally looked up and right at me. His eyes smoldered as he watched my reaction to him. He saw my arousal and gave me a wicked grin.
This was punishment.
You don’t need him, Nina.
