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IT’S NOT GOING TO LICK ITSELF
AIDEN
There are times in my life that I wished I wasn’t me, Aiden Stone. Like opening the door and seeing Ivy, my little petal, after such a long time. My first thought on seeing her was, ‘It must be a dream.’ A very weird dream. Where her clothes were soaked, chocolate hair dripping with water, her bright blue eyes red and puffy, mascara running down her cheeks. My second thought was that she had been crying, and I wanted to do terrible things to the person who had made her cry.
When I was seventeen, I had watched her climb up a tree in the park, her eyes bright and grin wide as she climbed all the way up, my eyes wary of the little girl when I was in the park. She fell, like I had suspected. I didn’t think she was alone but unfortunately, she was. So I helped her. Carefully piggy backing her on my back, her arms wrapped around my neck and brought her home as she sniffled me the address in my ear, clutching my shirt as if I would dare to make her fall. I met Hayden for the first time, a striking image of her little sister with angular features, ocean-blue eyes and dark hair. He had turned pale watching her little sister’s knee bleeding, gently applying theHello Kittybandage while I offered her a candy to distract her.
I had watched her grow, seen her get her braces and get them removed, buy her favorite doughnuts when she got her first periods, hear her talk about her awkward first kiss under the bleachers because she was too scared to talk about it with Hayden and get embarrassed by her friends. I had picked her from her prom after party, gave her my hoodie and bought her ice cream at three in the morning. I had hugged her goodbye when I left with her brother for his deployment and my work, hoping she would take care of herself.
I cared about Ivy. My little petal. That was why I was I was going to do terrible things to the person, to the shit, who made her cry.
It was also why it was unfortunate that my third thought was widely different from the first two. I hated being myself when I thought of her…differently. I was truly a sadist to get turned on by her red, watery eyes. All I could think about was wrapping my fist around her hair and see her sky eyes gleam with tears of pain and pleasure, hazy with lust but trusting me to take care of her and her needs. Being on her knees with my hands on her face and fucking those pouty lips—
“Fuck,” I breathed, swallowing the lump in my throat and glaring at the semi in my sweatpants. I had to stop thinking about her.
Which won’t happen when she is under the same roof, taking a shower, all wet and naked—
I closed my eyes and thought about all the ways I helped my patients with their anxiety. I took four deep breaths. After clearing my heads of all the filthy thoughts and made a list why I should never think about the said filthy thoughts.
1. She is Ivy Knight.
2. She is Hayden Knight’s little sister, my best friend’s sister and he would dump me in the Arctic Ocean if he ever knew about these thoughts.
3. She is young. Eleven years younger than I am.
4. She probably thinks of me as her elder brother.
5. Did I mention she is related to Hayden Knight? The person who can and will murder me if I ever thought about touching her inappropriately.
Yes, that list was good and it should help remind me every time my blood rushes to the south. But it was the fourth point that truly scared me. I know I had been overly protective of her when we were young—I still was, but I never meant it in a brotherly way. No, I just didn’t want her to get hurt. I wanted to care for her. But not the way a sibling does.
As if he knew I was thinking about him, Hayden called me. I picked up after one more ring, hearing him say, “Hey, asshole. Did you miss your favorite person?”
“Hello to you too, darling,” I said, stirring the red sauce, hating myself for the small twitch on my lips. Hayden Knight was a pain in the ass, but he was my close friend. We had been mistaken for brothers, but it was clear from one closer look that our eyes didn’t match and he was more charming with talking our way out of a situation. “Why on earth would I miss you out of everyone? In fact, I’m glad your Azmian princess whisked you off of San Diego and keeps you locked in her palace.”
I heard a shuffle and a soft feminine voice. “Aw, Aiden! I knew you secretly liked me underneath all that ‘I hate everyone, people are stupid’ guise!” I shook my head hearing Zara Knight Latif, the Princess of Azmia, and the fiancée of my best friend, try to mimic my voice.
“Why are you out of bed?” Hayden asked her and for a moment, all I heard was bad reception and clothes shuffling. “You should’ve called me, I would have—”
Zara didn’t let him finish. “Aiden, tell your friend that I won’t fall the second he looks away.”
“You would’ve landed on your bump if you had looked where you walked.”
“I would love to see where I’m walking, but I can’t see my feet, you ass.”
“Then hold my hand, I’m here for—”
I cleared my throat, watching the steam rolling off of the pasta in the pan. “As much as I’d love to hear you both bicker, I have something to tell you, Hayden.”
“I’ll leave you boys to it.”
Hayden yelled when she walked away, “Please have a guard with you!”
My heart felt heavy hearing them bicker lovingly. Hayden had saved her life, promised her safety, care and love for their engagement and even trying his best to be a good father for his soon-to-be-child and a good husband when they get married.
Hayden, the man who had fucked his way through half of the San Diego’s single women, was now expecting a child and marrying the woman he met once and pinning on her for two years so much so that he never once flirted with anyone.
“All good?”
