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I can talk about Aiden without worrying that I’ll leak his story. Everything is out in the open, and it feels good.
Well, maybe not everything, but a lot.
I’ll take the win.
I have someone to confide in when things get tough. And they will because that’s what relationships are. Hard work. But so worth it.
Tonight, we have a game, and Aiden is off getting ready. I’m just trying to make his life easier by doing the things I did before.
Money may no longer be exchanged, but I still want to help him as much as I can. It was never about the money, anyway.
I have his game day gear on his bed, ready for him to put on before he heads to the arena. The house is clean. Maybe not to his liking, but it will be easier for him to finish it if I’ve already made an attempt.
I now know that Aiden never really hired me to do these things for him. He hired me because he just wanted me around, so that’s what I’ll keep doing. Spending time with him and calming him the best I know how.
I have his candy in hand to sort for him. He was out, so I had to go grab it. I’m outside, returning home, when I see that damn man.
The stalker reporter.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than harass Aiden?”
He taps his finger to the side of his leg, looking far too haughty for a predator that’s been caught snooping once more.
“I’m not here for him,” he says, catching me off guard.
There’s something so sleazy, so gross about this guy.
“Oh yeah?” I place my hands on my hips. “Then who are you here for? Some other famous athlete lives in the building that I don’t know about?”
A leering smile spreads across his face. “I’m here for you, Pippa.”
The bag in my hand drops to the ground, and I scramble to pick it up. My hands shake by my side.
How does he know?
“By your reaction, I can tell that Slate’s mom wasn’t lying. You and Aiden share a past.”
“That’s none of your business,” I snap back. Probably a dumb move because it makes it more obvious that he’s struck a nerve.
If I ever get my hands on that woman, I’ll end her myself.
“But here’s where things get interesting,” he says, sounding far too excited for my liking. “I got a phone call from her. Seems your boyfriend paid her a visit yesterday.”
My blood runs cold, and my hands shake even more.
He was there.
He went back to that awful place.
“First time in ten years. Now if that doesn’t send off red flags, I don’t know what does.” He taps his chin, but I can hardly concentrate on him.
My mind whirls with all the horrible possibilities of what he uncovered there. What does he know? Will he hate me for it?
“Here’s the thing, he wasn’t there to deal with his mom. Actually, he was more concerned about you. Your past and if someone hurt you.”
My stomach dives, and bile rises up my throat.
“Interesting,” he says. “Seems the color has leached from your face, Pippa. Now why would that be?”
