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Merrick
Icould get used to having Davis in my bed.
I could, but I can’t, because he’s spent every night this past week sleeping in his own bed.Dammit.Our weekend bliss of waking up together and sharing intimacies that were surprising to us both was rocked off its foundation when he received a text from Chantal Sunday night. He didn’t disclose what the message said, but the furrowed brow and hard tick of anger in his jaw bespoke his frustration with the woman he still calls his wife.
So I let him go. I watched him walk out of my house and I reminded myself to give it time. Givehimtime. I made myself focus on the positives: He did spend two nights with me. He finally let his guard down and showed me his apartment and shared his beautiful memories of baby Charlotte. He came to me willingly, and with only slight hesitation. He wanted me…that night and again the next morning.
These are all good things, so why do I have this sick ache in my stomach that tells me I need to be worried. It’s not like the guy ran away again like he’s done so often in the past. We’ve talked every night this week either on the phone or via text. But he hasn’t stopped by, and we haven’t made plans to run together this weekend either. Whatever is going on with him he’s certainly not willing to talk about it.Yet.
“Let’s grab lunch.” Aiden is standing in my office doorway, twirling his keys around one finger. “The schedule is open for a few hours.” He grins at me. “My treat.”
I adore my best friend, but if he thinks he’s being covert about trying to get me alone to talk, it’s not going to work. I’ve managed to put on a good game face all week and I’ve tried too damn hard to put thoughts of Davis on the back burner. Worrying about what might or might not happen is a waste of my time. It’s not as if I didn’t know going in that we’d have hurdles to overcome. After all, he is still a married man, regardless of how much that might piss me off. Then there’s the little matter of him being straight, something I conveniently ignore more than I should. While Davis may not be as straight as he once was, the truth is that he’s only ever been attracted to women. The hurdle is there whether I choose to admit it or not.
Opening my mouth to respond, Aiden throws up a hand to stop me. “I don’t want to hear how busy you are. You’re coming with me.” He gives me thecome heregesture with his index finger. “Let’s go. I’m famished.”
Thankfully, he holds onto his interrogation until we’re seated at a table with menus in front of us. I’m no fool; I’ve known all week that he wanted to get me alone and find out what the hell is going on with me and Davis. Hopefully, if I can control the pace of the conversation, he’ll back off.
“I’ve got in under control. Don’t worry.”
His brow lifts in question. “Sure you do. That’s why he was standing shirtless in your kitchen, looking like the two of you were seconds away from jumping into your bed.” Setting the menu aside, he props his elbows on the table, fingers clasped. “What the hell are you doing?”
How should I know?“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve got it handled.”
Aiden averts his eyes, and by the way he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek I can assume he’s trying to choose his words carefully. When he eventually looks back at me, his eyes are awash with concern. “I’m worried about you, Mer. Do you have any idea of the potential heartbreak here? I don’t want you hurt.”
I love this man. I love the friend he is to me, the business partner he’s been. I love that he loves me unconditionally, and never wants anything but the best for me. I don’t, however, need to be warned about potential heartbreak. I’m all too aware that this relationship with Davis could go either way. “I know you don’t and I adore you for caring enough to say so.”
“Then talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Begrudgingly I give him a G-rated version of the weekend happenings. He says very little….mostly a bunch of head-nods and uh-hmms. We place our lunch orders and chat with the waiter briefly before he moves away, which gives Aiden the perfect opportunity to continue.
“Tell me something. What is it this guy wants from you?”
Anger is quick to unfurl in my chest. “He’s notthis guy.” I air-quote around the words. “He’s my friend. I care about him.” His brow quirks again. “Fine. Yes. I care a lot about him. Satisfied?”
Aiden reaches across the table and takes my hand. I love that he doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks, and that he’s completely willing to be his touchy-feely self with me no matter what. “Are you in love with him?”
I’ve given this love thing a lot of thought over the weeks I’ve spent getting to know Davis. I know there’s a part of me that’s crazy in love with him. Why wouldn’t I be? Yes, he’s closed off and slow to trust, but when he looks at me, I melt. He’s all I see, all I want, all I can imagine in my life from now until forever.
But there’s also a part of me that’s hesitant to admit it out loud, or even commit to it completely in my head. Loving someone who is already in a relationship is bad enough. Loving a man who has spent his lifetime with women is something else entirely. I sure as hell don’t want my heart broken, but the time for turning back ended weeks ago. I might be forced to walk away eventually, but for now I’m staying right where I am. Heartbreak be damned.
“Probably.”
Aiden sighs and shakes his head. “Dammit Mer…you’re playing with fire.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Sitting back in my chair, I drag my fingers through my hair, my voice a harsh whisper when I speak. “I can’t help how I feel, Aiden. It’s not like I planned this.”
“I get that. But it’s moving kinda fast, don’t you think? The man is still married, for Christ’s sake.”
“Yes, I know.” Getting pissed off at my best friend will not solve anything, so I try for calm. “Look, I love you for sharing your concern with me. I really do. But I didn’t go into this friendship with him thinking it would be more. I’m as surprised as you are that he’s….you know…attracted to me.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re a catch. Why wouldn’t the guy be attracted to you?”
I smirk at him. “Why Aiden, do you have a little crush on me too?”
“Fuck you.” This has been a running joke between us for years, even though we’re both aware we’ve only ever been really good friends. “What I meant was, you’re a good guy. You’re successful. You own a home. And you’re not too awful to look at.”
I chuckle. “Gee…thanks, I think.”
