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Which was exactly what a man should do.
Raise you up, not tear you down.
He was right about not mentioning other guys, because they’d been boys.
For the first time in my life, I was with a real man, and it fucking rocked.
"Jen," I greeted with a little smirk, oddly pleased with how awestruck she was.
Her escapades were far more daring than mine, so that she was impressed with me was unusual.
As I clambered onto the circular bench seating, Aidan shuffled in after me.
The bandage pulled against my upper thigh, but the slash there was mostly a flesh wound. More irritating than anything, prone to stinging because I’d wrapped it up too tightly. I’d be glad when I could remove it, to be honest. It was already a nuisance.
"He’s not here yet?" Aidan queried, his disapproval stark as he finally took a seat.
I cast him a look, because his voice was different, and saw his face was a little pale. Guilt hit me, because while I’d been loving that moment, he’d clearly been in pain. Now that I thought about it, his gait had been smoother.
Jesus, did he control his limp in public?
How was that even doable?
Slightly in awe of him—okay, who was I kidding?—alotin awe of him, I shifted my attention to my friend, who was grumbling, "He said he had issues with parking."
Aidan grumbled right back, "You know how to pick them, Jen. The fucker can’t park in a place that has valet parking?"
Her nose crinkled. "I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t show up."
"If he doesn’t, then I’ll do more than fucking key his Ferrari," Aidan intoned darkly, his tone not shifting as, abruptly, he murmured, "An Aperol Spritz and do you still have the forty-year-old Midleton?"
Why wasn’t I shocked that he knew my drink of choice?
I shot a glance at the server who’d rolled up out of nowhere, well aware that she was eying him like he was a king too, and rather than be jealous, I pressed a hand to his lap, making it quite clear that he was mine. Stamping as much of a claim on him as he did on me, something he compounded by entangling our fingers.
"We do, Mr. O’Donnelly. Would you like me to bring the bottle?"
He grunted. "Please." As she drifted off, he muttered, "I think it’s going to be one of those evenings."
Jen perked up. "I’ve always wanted to try expensive whiskey."
Aidan snorted. "It’ll knock you on your ass."
"Wanna bet?"
"I’m in the mood to win, so why not?" he taunted, and their manner was so relaxed, so comfortable, that something squeezed inside me.
They knew each other.
Well.
But Jen had said she’d tried and failed to seduce him, which meant Aidan was unusual. Very few men Jen set her sights on refused her.
"If you don’t choke on the whiskey, I’ll let you have the bottle."
Jen eyed him. "Knowing you, the bottle’s worth fifteen K."
"And you need every cent, don’t you?"
