Page 19 of His to Cherish
“Trina doesn’t care?”
She didn’t. She might have at first, when she joined our group. But I was pretty sure she thought we were also completely crazy, Suzanne especially. Now we’d known her long enough, heard enough about her and Declan over the last several months that I thought Suzanne liked listening to Trina’s stories about Declan, almost more than she liked looking at the man.
I smiled, thinking of Trina. She was kind and sweet, and considering she’d met Declan while on the run from an abusive husband, she was also strong.
I thought of the way they looked at each other. They had been through a ton to get to a place where they were happy, where Trina was finally safe and Declan was finally trusting someone again. They could barely keep their eyes off each other when we were all together, and even when Suzanne was staring at Declan’s ass, his eyes were always on Trina, like he didn’t even see the rest of us.
“I don’t think Trina minds,” I replied.
He made that snort-laugh sound again. I thought I might spontaneously combust if I ever heard a full belly laugh fall from his thick lips “Yeah…man like Declan around her, claiming her, I don’t think she’d care at all.”
The idea of being claimed by a man like Declan…or Aidan…flickered through my mind and I felt my cheeks grow warm.
This conversation needed to change direction and quick, before I said something, or did something, I’d regret.
“Well then, now that that’s out of the way,” I said, taking a deep breath of courage for what had been on my mind all day. All night long I’d been wondering if I should bring up my conversation with Shane. Aidan and I didn’t talk about Derrick or the accident. My role, I figured, was to be a safe place Aidan could go when the silence became too much for him. I didn’t want to push the boundaries he’d somehow put in place without ever saying them. But I also hadn’t been able to get Shane out of my head after our talk today. And I knew tonight I’d hear his cries in my nightmares. “I need to tell you something.”
It must have been the tone of my voice, the quick change from playful to serious and hesitant, but the air between us instantly changed.
I shifted my position on the couch so my back was against the armrest and I had one foot curled under my other knee. My other foot nervously tapped on the carpet.
“And?” His eyes narrowed.
In order to lessen the blow, I lowered my already quiet voice. “Shane’s been eating lunch with me. I don’t know why,” I continued without taking a breath. “But he was really upset today and I wanted to let you know.”
His lips pulled into a thin line and his features hardened. I watched as he turned to granite in front of me. He leaned forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together.
He looked intent, but the muscle jumping in his jaw and down the side of his throat told me to proceed cautiously.
I might have already overstepped, but this was too important.
“He thinks you blame him.” I watched the impact of my words smack his chest with a force that had him jerking back in shock. “He thinks you hate him.”
I finished with a whisper because I could see the physical pain I was causing this beautiful, rugged, and demolished man in front of me.
I instantly regretted it. I should have minded my own business. Even before the accident I barely knew Aidan; I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, and suddenly our lives had become interwoven. In that moment, as I watched a myriad of emotions play out over Aidan’s face and in his body language, I regretted opening my mouth.
He spoke, and his words pierced my heart.
“I do blame him.”
He moved before I could blink. He was on his feet heading toward the front door, and I scrambled to beat him there before he could leave. Not like this. Not mad at me for causing him pain or making him angry.
“I’m sorry,” I said, almost yelling it while I scurried after him. Damn, his long legs could move fast.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated as soon as I met him at the door. My fingers wrapped around his forearm and he flinched beneath my grip.
He was so warm. I stared at my hand on his exposed skin and watched his veins pop. His muscles tightened under my hand while I stared at where our skin touched, his blood pumping quickly underneath my palm. My fingers twitched, strengthening my hold on him.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I couldn’t look at him. My body felt hot. My mind screamed at me to shut up. But touching him, feeling the heat radiating off his skin, made my heart feel like it was gripped in a vice, and my groin begin to pulse.
God. This was not okay.
“I don’t hate the kid, and I don’t know if I blame him, either, exactly. I just know that if they hadn’t gone skateboarding, I’d still have Derrick.” His voice was thick and tortured. Tears dropped down my cheeks. I caused this pain and I hated it.
I was so tired of people hurting, of the heaviness that came from grief, and yet I knew it would last for so long.
“You should tell him.” Bravely, and potentially stupidly, I whispered the words and pulled my eyes off my hand, still on his arm, to look up into Aidan’s eyes. They were filled with tears, and I knew by the tightened jaw muscles that he was trying not to let them fall in front of me.
