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Aidan didn’t know how or why, he just knew. Like he knew the day of the week, he just knew.
In the past, he fucked women and moved on.
With Lily, he’d bought her silly sun hats, soothed her bruises with Arnica cream, got her medical care—the morning-after pill but whatever—and then failed to be there when she needed him the most.
God damn her father for choosing this exact moment in time to leave his life.
Hey, asshole...
“Call her. Your face doesn’t match your words,” Logan said, turning to check his wedding attire in the floor-length mirror. “I don’t want you snarling in our wedding photos.”
Aidan snorted.
Then he looked in the mirror himself and was shocked. Staring back at him was a man ready to commit murder.
“It’s okay to care. It’s okay to like her,” Logan said. “Blake was right, though. Lily isn’t like Emma or even Harper. She doesn’t fit in our world, Aides. Call her. Say goodbye. Wish her well. Then get back on the horse.”
Fuck the horse.
“I’m going to check on Emma. I’ll give you ten minutes,” Logan said.
“Wait. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” Aidan warned him.
“We just had lunch together.” Logan laughed. “Plus, it can’t be any fucking worse than my first marriage.” Logan stilled and pointed at him. “Repeat that to Emma, and I will kill you.”
Aidan smiled for the first time today.
“Go. I’ll make the call, so your wedding photos don’t suck.”
Logan shot him a smile and walked out.
Shit.
What did he say? He wasn’t saying goodbye, that’s for sure. But hearing her voice might help, so Aidan pulled his phone out of his pocket and snarled at the blank screen.
Still no messages from her.
It was nearly three in the afternoon in Maui, making it almost nine in Chicago. Late.
Stop looking for excuses.
He scrolled to her number and pressed the green button. His stomach lurched as it rang.
He nearly hung up, realizing he hadn’t figured out what to say. He could hardly get mad at her for dropping everything to race to her father’s bedside.
This wasn’t the time.
Did she really need to hear a heartfelt set of well wishes from him right now?
Hope your father is okay.
He’s not.
Then I hope he will be okay.
He won’t be.
Then I hope that when this is over, I can fucking see you again because I don’t like the idea of never looking into your rich brown eyes. Of never tasting your sweetness. Or never hearing your soft pleas of having my cock inside you.
