The Wall of Winnipeg and Me: A Novel

Tossing the fifth shirt over my shoulder, I groaned. It wasn’t until I had to pack that I ever thought I didn’t have enough clothes. It was like a ninja snuck into my closet and drawers and stole everything that fit me well and looked good.

“What are you doing?” Aiden’s low, grumbling voice asked from behind me.

I turned around to spot him leaning against the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, one ankle over the other. I blew a lock of pink hair that had fallen into my eyes away in frustration. “I’m trying to pack for my trip tomorrow.”

“What’s the problem?”

Damn it. I sighed. He really did know me, and that only made me feel sheepish. “I can’t find anything I want to wear.” That was mostly the truth. The other half of the truth was that I’d been pretty grumpy since his last game when he’d admitted he was going to Colorado after kissing me like it was no big deal. He was leaving in two weeks. For two months.

He raised his eyebrows as if telling me to continue, only egging on my nerves.

“I feel like I’m going to the first day of school tomorrow. I’m so nervous,” I admitted the other tiny part of it.

Aiden frowned as he uncrossed his legs and took a step inside my room. “About what?” he asked, bending down to pick up two of the shirts that had landed on the floor. Setting them on the bed, he took a spot right next to them on the mattress facing me.

“The convention.” This was exactly how I’d get before the first day of school. The nerves. The nausea. The dread. The worry about who I would sit with. If anyone would actually come by my table. What the hell had I been thinking registering? It wasn’t like I was starving for business. I got a steady flow of new customers, on top of my returning, loyal clientele.

“It’s a book convention. What are you worried about?” He picked up the last shirt I’d tossed on the bed and held it up, looking over the long sleeves and royal blue color. “What’s wrong with this one?”

Nerves were eating up my chest and my soul, and he had no idea or any way to comprehend what I was going through. I didn’t think Aiden knew what insecurity was. I ignored his comment about the shirt. “What if everyone hates me and no one talks to me? What if someone throws something at me?”

Aiden snorted, setting the shirt he’d been holding aside and picking up the next one on the pile. “What are they going to throw? Bookmarks?”

That had me groaning. “You don’t understand…”

Aiden peeked at me from over the collar of the blouse, and from the wrinkles around his eyes, I could tell he was smiling just a little bit before he put it on the other side from where he’d left the blue one. “No one is going to throw anything at you. Relax.”

I swallowed and went to take a seat on the bed next to him, his thigh touching mine. “Okay, probably not, but what if… no one comes by my booth? Can you imagine how awkward that would be? Me sitting there all alone?” Just thinking about it was making me anxious.

Shifting on the mattress, he reached over and touched my thigh with his fingertips. The smile on his face melted completely off and he stared at me with that hard, serious face. “If no one goes by your booth, it’s because they’re stupid—”

I couldn’t help but crack a little smile.

“—and they don’t have any taste,” he added, giving me a squeeze.

My smile might have grown a little more.

“I looked at your website. I saw the before and after images of what you’ve done. You’re good, Van.”

“I know I’m good—”

His chuckle cut me off. “And people think I’m cocky.”

I elbowed him in the arm with a laugh. “What? I am. There’s not a lot of things I’m really good at, but this is the one thing no one can take away from me. I’ve worked hard at it.”

The expression on Aiden’s face hinted at amusement as he held up the blue shirt he’d previously set aside. “Then you know you have nothing to worry about. Take this one with you.”

I grabbed the shirt he held with a huff and nodded, quietly folding it. I moved around the room and collected the other things I wanted to take with me. I was only spending two nights, I didn’t need a whole bunch, but I was still taking more than enough just in case. I’d rather have too many shirts than not enough.

I kneeled down to grab my carry-on luggage from beneath the bed, casting a glance at him as he folded the shirts I’d set aside that I wasn’t taking.

He caught me looking at him and only slightly raised his eyebrows. “Stop looking like you’re going to be sick, Van. You’ll be fine.”

“You keep saying that, but then again you’re not intimidated by anything, big guy. You run at guys the same size as you or bigger for a living.”

His eyebrows crawled up even higher on his forehead. “Fear is all in your head.”

“I hate it when people say that.”

“It’s true. What’s the worst that will happen? People won’t talk to you? They won’t like you? People who really know you like you.”

“Trevor doesn’t.”

Aiden gave me that flat, exasperated look of his. “Since when do you care what he thinks? Trevor is an idiot when it comes to anything that won’t make him money. So what if there’s a chance some people that you don’t know don’t like you? Their opinion shouldn’t matter. At the end of the day, you’re still going to be you—the you I know who would flip me off in the middle of a stadium—and no one’s opinion will change that.”

Oh brother.

This huge knot filled my throat and I couldn’t do a thing but kneel there awkwardly and look at him. To a certain extent, he was right. I didn’t usually care what other people thought. Of course, I didn’t like to be embarrassed, who did? But for Aiden “The Wall of Winnipeg” Graves, the hardest working, most dedicated person I had ever met, to think so highly of me? Well, it meant more to me than it should have.

Way more.

He finished folding the rest of my clothes and patted the stack next to him. “Am I driving you to the airport?

I really should have stayed home.

Two days later, I’d been at the convention behind my table for almost three hours. My table, which I had reserved at the last minute, was located in the furthest corner away from the entrance. My banners were set up; I had a few paperbacks propped up, and bookmarks, pins, and pens with my logo scattered across an electric pink tablecloth I had dyed over and over again in the garage until it reached the perfect shade. I’d even brought a light-up sign that Zac, who was apparently extremely handy, had helped me build over the course of the last week after we had our training runs.

I’d sent him, Aiden, and Diana all a picture text of my booth when I’d set it up that morning. Only Zac and Di had responded, which wasn’t entirely surprising I guess. But I wasn’t going to let myself worry about it too much.

I knew I wasn’t delusional thinking that my table looked pretty damn neat. Everything popped and the jewel tones of the books I’d brought and the giveaways all fit really well together. It was nice, but nice didn’t do anything when everyone seemed to smile at it and then walk right on by to get in line to get their books signed.

Even the author next to me, who had told me she only had one novel out, had people stopping by to talk to her. I thought the fact she had a semi-attractive man, who was apparently the cover model for her novel, definitely helped bring people over.

Why hadn’t I thought to ask Zac to come along?

Women loved him before he opened his mouth, but as soon as they found out he was a pro football player—well, at this point, a temporary ex-NFO player—it made them flock to him like locusts. He would have definitely pretended to be a cover model if I’d asked.

Damn it. A group of three walked by me and cast an interested glance my way before continuing onward.

I’d leave if I wouldn’t feel like such a damn wuss doing so. I’d paid a lot of money on my flight, hotel room, and all the things I’d bought for my table, on top of the fees to set up. Hell, just thinking about how much I spent made my throat dry. But you had to invest money to make money. My foster dad, who had his own successful exterminating business, used to tell me that.

I was about to reach under my table to grab a bottle of water when a movement in the crowd on the near opposite wall caught my attention. One author whose table was perpendicular to mine had a line of people about thirty people long, filling the wide aisle. But there on the other side of the line, women of all ages and colors started to shift; all of them slowly turned and twisted their heads at something.

It was the head above and behind the crowd I noticed first. Walking forward, in a faded-black hoodie I’d washed and folded countless times, was a man. A man I could have recognized even if he’d dyed his hair blond and worn a cassock. I’d recognize Aiden anywhere.

It was the way he held his broad shoulders, those long legs that carried that confident stride, and the cocky way he held his head that said more than enough. The way his arms rested at his sides and that thick neck confirmed The Wall of Winnipeg was really here.

Aiden was here.

I didn’t know why, and honestly, I wasn’t even wondering why. I couldn’t have cared.

Aiden had come.

I sucked in a breath and got to my feet, the biggest smile I’d ever made making my cheeks instantly ache.

Those brown irises raked across the room. Some part of me was fully aware that everyone within a twenty-foot parameter was focused in on him. Sure, there were quite a good amount of male models around the convention hall, but none of them were Aiden, or anywhere even remotely close to him. I hadn’t bothered giving any of the models more than a quick, curious glance, which said everything there was to know about my feelings for the big guy. Men with great bodies were awesome, sure. Friendly guys who knew how attractive they were and liked flaunting it and flirting with their fans were a magical thing.

But Aiden wasn’t smiles and coyness. He didn’t know or care that he was unforgettable. He had a confidence that went deeper than that of a man who liked what he saw in the mirror; Aiden valued the skills he’d developed through hard work. He believed in every inch of himself. He cared about what he could do and pushed himself to be better than he was the day before, not any of the external crap so many other people valued so much.

And all that manliness, that self-confident swagger and the mentality that ‘good’ was never enough, had just settled its attention on me standing there with a grin that more than likely made me look like a lunatic.

I’d swear on my life, my heart was on the verge of exploding with joy and surprise. I was probably trembling a little bit too in restrained energy and downright shock. Here was this man who valued his time, who hadn’t taken anything close to a vacation or allowed himself to be distracted from his ultimate goal in all the time I’d known him.

Yet he was here.

“Holy mother…” I barely heard the woman at the booth next to mine stutter loudly before I dropped to my hands and knees, crawled under the table, and popped back up on the other side to find those large, size-thirteen feet heading in my direction.

He raised his eyebrows at me, the corners of his mouth pulling up when we finally stood feet apart. “Hi.”

I was going to burst. I was going to freaking burst inside. “I’m about to hug you,” I warned him in what sounded like a gasp, clenching my hands at my sides. “I’m about to hug the shit out of you, and I’m sorry I’m not sorry.”

Those thick eyebrows seemed to climb up his forehead an inch higher, his cheek ticking in this strange way that made him seem a little embarrassed. “Why are you saying that like I should be scared?”

The ‘scared’ was barely out of his mouth when I threw my arms around his neck. Screw a friendly body hug. I went for that thick neck I had a feeling I could dangle off of without making him pull a single one of his thousand muscles. My face went straight to between his pecs, burying itself there, cradling my face like the hardest and best-looking boobs in the universe.

The joy made me shiver. “You came,” I muttered into the soft material of his hoodie. About eighteen different emotions clogged my throat. “I don’t know why you’re here, and why it’s freezing outside and you’re only wearing this jacket instead of a coat like a normal human being, but I’m so happy to see you, you have no idea.”

I had goose bumps, freaking goose bumps as I squeezed my arms around him, burying my face a little deeper into the crevice between his pectorals.

“Stop talking,” Aiden muttered as two big arms swallowed my back whole. And then, he was hugging me. His biceps cradled my ribs as he pulled me into him, up to the tips of my toes. Our fronts seared together.

Tears clouded my eyes, but I closed them and gave Aiden one more squeeze before slowly sinking back to my heels. Gazing up at that handsome, severe face, I had to bite the insides of my lips to keep from grinning like a total lovesick idiot, which was exactly what I was.

In that moment, I don’t think I had ever loved anything half as much as I loved Aiden.

Sliding my hands from his neck over to his shoulders and finally down to those biceps I knew were perfectly sculpted from gawking at them so often, I patted him. Then I grabbed him and tried to shake him.

And then I started grinning all over again. So what if I looked like an airhead who was in love with a man she had married as part of a business relationship? I was, and I’d never been totally good at being anything other than me.

Of all the people I would ever want in my corner for moral support, here was the most unexpected one… and the biggest one. My friend. The keeper of my secrets. My moral support. My paperwork.

Plus, with reflexes like his, if anyone threw something at me, he could deflect it. Not that that would happen since hardly anyone even noticed I was there.

Thinking about having him in my corner didn’t help anything. It just made me want to cry, and now wasn’t the time. Hell, the next decade wasn’t the right time. I had to remember that even as my heart gave a little beat at the acknowledgment Aiden had shown up.

I slid my hands down his biceps to his elbows and finally to his wrists. “Are you going to stay for a little while?” I asked, trying not to build up too much hope. Maybe he had some kind of… something he’d come for besides me.

Turning his wrists, he slid his hands down until we were palm to palm. “I just flew four hours to get here. Who else would I be here for?”

I loved this man.

That was what I thought. What I said though was a completely different thing. “Okay, smart-ass. Let me grab a chair for you then,” I said, taking a step away before blinking at him. He really was standing there in the middle of a convention in his hoodie with a backpack on. He was here. Here.

With a squeak I hadn’t made since I was probably twelve, I threw my arms around Aiden’s arm and hugged him once more for a split second.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” I said, loosening my hold and taking a step back to find him looking down at me with the strangest expression on his face.

“I’ll get one,” he muttered, tipping his head toward mine. A small smile creased the corners of that ultra-serious mouth. He dropped his chin. “Has anybody thrown anything at you?”

I crossed my eyes. “Not yet.”

Aiden blew out a breath and gave me that look that got on my nerves. “Told you.” He reached forward and tapped my elbow with his fingertips. “I’ll be right back.”

I wasn’t sure where he planned on getting a chair from, but if anyone got what he wanted, it was Aiden. He’d figure it out. With that thought, I crawled back under the table and took my seat again, suddenly feeling way more optimistic—and about eight hundred times happier—than I had minutes ago.

I’d barely plopped down and shuffled my seat forward when I realized that both of the authors on either side of me were staring. Literally staring. One of them even had her mouth open.

“Please tell me that’s not your brother,” the one whose mouth was actually closed, stammered out, her gaze zoomed in on the direction Aiden had disappeared to.

“That’s not my brother,” I said a little more smugly than what was necessary, my thumb rubbing over the top of my ring.

“Is that a model?” The one who was gaping practically panted. “Because he’s never hugged me like that before.” She hooked her thumb at the man sitting next to her, who was frowning while also facing where Aiden had gone.

I bit my cheek and tried to hold back my smile even as my soul rejoiced with Aiden! He’s here! “No.”

Both women just looked at me a blankly for so long I reached up to fiddle with the leg of my glasses, feeling a little awkward.

The male model finally leaned around the author he was sitting with. “That’s Aiden Graves, isn’t it?”

And, of course, someone was going to immediately recognize him. I’d seen an ad of him at the airport the night before.

“Who’s that?” the author on my left asked.

“The Wall of Winnipeg. The best defensive player in the NFO,” the guy answered, his gaze bouncing between the spot Aiden had gone and me, his expression more than a little curious. “Are you writing a book about him?” he asked, and I swear I almost rolled my eyes. The sign behind me with my name on it clearly said I did graphic design. Plus, we were at a romance convention. I didn’t know I wrote biographies.

“No,” the familiar, deep voice answered unexpectedly, right before he dropped a metal chair into place right next to me. “She’s mine.”

And he went for it.

My heart went for it too—over the cliff that is.

I thought—

Well it didn’t matter what I thought. Or why’d he’d gone with that instead of going with any other answer except the slightly painful truth. Painful because my insides clung onto the ‘M’ word even though it shouldn’t have. Somehow, with Aiden wielding it, it felt like a weapon of mass destruction intent on destroying my heart.

I should have known better. I knew how stupid it was to feel something for him other than friendship. I really did. This between us was business—he’d made that point abundantly clear before we’d signed paperwork. We both got something out of it. But friendship had blossomed between us—a genuine one that had tugged on my head and heart so much that it had turned into more. For me at least.

I loved Aiden, and hearing him claim me as his, bypassed every instinct in my body that had pushed me to succeed on my own. It didn’t make me feel like I was worth more, but it gave me a turbo boost regardless of how stupid it was for me to take his statement out of context. It was useless to hope. Useless to love him. Care about him, sure. I’d cared about him for years. Had a massive crush on him during that time too.

But this…

It made me want to hope, and that was the last fucking thing I needed.

Now, these people who I may or may not see again in my life would know for sure we were together. I knew how things like this worked. Each person would tell another person and most people in my industry, in the profession that I wanted to work with that included potential customers in this room, they would all know Aiden Graves and I had married, and in five years, they’d know what I lost. Everyone would know we’d gotten divorced if they even remembered.

Which they probably wouldn’t. Would they?

For the price of paying off my student loans, I was going to have to live with it. I’d have to, and that knowledge made my chest give this unnatural squeeze that made my entire body ache. How could I miss something I still had?

A big, sturdy elbow nudged me. “What’s the matter?” Aiden asked in a slightly quieter voice, uselessly trying to keep the conversation between the two of us. I wasn’t fooled. Everyone around us was probably trying to listen in.

I made myself blink my depressing, unnecessary thoughts away and turned my chair enough to face him, wiping my expression off. At least that’s what I hoped. “I was just… I’m fine. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“A happy surprise?” He watched me with those dark eyes before the side of his kneecap kissed the side of mine.

Did he sound hesitant or was I imagining it? I thought about playing it off, but then again, all signs pointed at the fact that the big guy actually knew me. He would recognize if I were lying. “Duh,” I whispered. “It just got me thinking about how the next four-ish years are going to pass in no time, and how much I’ll probably miss you afterward.” I gave him a frown that was trying to be a smile. “It’s dumb. I’m so happy to see you, and I’m already getting upset thinking about not having you around.”

Why was I telling him these things? And why were my eyes tearing up all of a sudden? I blinked up at Aiden, uselessly wiping at them with the back of my hand and let out that horrible laugh when you’re crying but you want to think something is funny. “I’m so happy you’re here and I’m crying,” I cry-laughed bitterly, suddenly aware that all these people I didn’t know who were busy checking out Aiden, could probably see me getting upset.

When I raised my gaze to make sure Aiden thought I was being as crazy as I imagined I was being, I realized he wasn’t smiling. Not at all. The unimpressionable look on his face didn’t say that he thought I was being nuts, and he wasn’t going to tell me I was getting worked up for no reason. Instead, his Adam’s apple bobbed and he stared at me as if he was at a loss for words.

Which only made me feel awkward. Wiping at my eyes again, I sniffled and made myself smile at him, not earning even a fracture of one in return. I wasn’t going to worry about it. “Sorry. I don’t know why I got so worked up. My hormones must be all out of whack.” I swallowed and licked my lips, still all too aware that he was burning my face with his gaze. “I’m so happy you’re here. I really am. This was the best surprise ever. ”

His bearded cheek dimpled, and I knew he was biting down on the inside of it, his nostrils flaring in the process. A deep, deep, deep sigh slowly expelled from his lungs, and I swore, it was almost like his chest deflated. His entire body language changed in such small details I would have missed it if I didn’t know him as well as I did. But the fact was, I knew Aiden. I knew almost everything about him, and I saw the signs.

I just didn’t know what to do with them. The only thing I was aware of was that I wanted him to have an idea of how much it meant to me that he was here. With me.

In that moment, I knew this unrequited love I felt for Aiden was going to end up in heartbreak. The real problem was that my head didn’t seem to care about the consequences. I leaned forward, putting my hand on the solid bulk of the middle of his thigh, and kissed his bristly cheek, maybe not imagining the background noise of the women around me reacting to me touching and getting so close to him. “I really can’t believe you’re here.”

“You said that already,” he murmured as his eyes dropped from mine to somewhere slightly below.

“Too bad. I’m in shock.” I gave his leg a squeeze before straightening in my chair and grinning at him. “Yay,” I whispered.

His eyelids hooded low over those clear, dark orbs. “You’re going to give me diabetes.”

That had me bursting out laughing, lifting the stress off of me for a moment, earning me that tiny little curl on the corners of his mouth.

He reached up and touched a lock of the pale-pink color Diana had dyed my hair weeks ago. “I’m going to get a green tea. Do you want that sugar with a side of coffee crap you like?” he asked, already getting to his big feet.

“Yeah, but I don’t know if they’ll let you in with a drink or not.”

He gave me one of his looks. “They’ll let me in.” One hand going to my shoulder, he squeezed it and then picked up my table on one edge, moved it aside, and side-stepped through the gap he’d made. Then he put it back where it had been without moving any of my things over.

It definitely wasn’t my imagination that 90 percent of the women he walked by in line—and behind their tables—watched him and his tight, round butt make their way to the exit.

I was so screwed.

A hand moved in my peripheral vision. “You married that?” the lady next to me asked, even though her face was glued on that fabulous butt.

This huge knot formed in my chest as I watched Aiden’s broad back disappear into the crowd. I had to suppress what I was sure was going to be a sigh. “Yep.”

“I tried to get here earlier, but I couldn’t get a flight,” he explained a few hours later when we were lying on my bed in my hotel room with eight boxes of take-out scattered between us. Two dishes had some variety of tofu inside, three boxes were steamed rice, two were all sautéed veggies, and the eighth had sweet and sour chicken. The three apples, four bananas, two fruit cups, and large green tea he’d had at the convention hadn’t satisfied the big guy at all.

Dipping my chicken in extra sauce, I eyed him, still on a high from him surprising the hell out of me by showing up. It was unreal. The fact that I’d had person after person approaching my table, after he came back with drinks and snacks, hadn’t escaped me at all. To give him credit, Aiden had handled the attention as well as could be expected. He went as far as to say “thank you” and “nice to meet you” to the people who asked him for autographs once word got around he was there.

Sure, everyone who had dropped by came for him or used me as an excuse to approach the table, but by the end of the convention, all of my business cards had been taken and so had most of my bookmarks and pins. I’d been tagged in at least fifty pages online, more than one including some kind of picture of the big guy and me.

I wasn’t dumb; I would take what I could get, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and I’d capitalize on it. So what if everyone in the future knew our relationship hadn’t worked out and then wondered what had happened to cause us to split. So what if the first thing they assumed was that he cheated on me. That was what everyone usually guessed when couples broke up.

Telling myself I didn’t care what anyone thought, didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

I would know we hadn’t ‘split up’ for that reason. It would have to be enough.

“When did you start looking?” I asked him, shoving the thoughts of cheating and divorce aside again and focusing on him being here.

He hummed, his mouth full. “Yesterday.”

Ahh, hell. I knew I might have laid it on too thick when he’d driven me to the airport. It might have been me telling him, “Stick my hard drive in the microwave if I don’t come back,” that did him in.

“There weren’t any flights last night, and I had to wait to talk to Zac so he could watch Leo; otherwise, I would have gotten here sooner,” he added.

“I really didn’t mean to guilt-trip you into coming.”

He shrugged. “You would never ask me to come, and I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

While I knew that was the truth, I still felt just a tiny, little, baby bit bad. Just a little. “Yeah, I know, but still. I shouldn’t have cried so much about it or made you think—”

“—you were going to have things thrown at you.” He let out a low chuckle that was all playful and totally unexpected. Aiden reached over and set his palm on my knee, careful not to touch me with fingers that had sauce on them. “I went to bed worried.”

He was worried about me?

“Everyone seemed nice,” he ended.

Of course everyone had been nice to him. Okay, they’d been nice to me too, but it was different. Everyone had been checking him out, before and even some after they realized I caught them in the act. Hookers.

I wasn’t going to lie. This unfamiliar and territorial feeling took over every time I saw women take on expressions that made it seem as if they were two seconds away from jumping his bones while he’d sat there, completely oblivious to the world around him, with a book in those million-dollar hands. And I thought then, of course they checked him out. Here was this massive, incredibly attractive man in a romance novel convention… reading a damn book.

But that part of my brain hadn’t been fond of the ogling even though I logically couldn’t blame them. I wasn’t going to be surprised if pictures of him showed up on the internet tomorrow—if they hadn’t already been posted—with ridiculous memes or captions beneath them.

And just thinking about it filled me with smugness that he was legally my husband, so all these jealous women could eat shit… I knew what my chest was telling me, what it was feeling. Possessiveness. Horrible possessiveness.

I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. This was Aiden. My friend. The man I was married to so he could become a resident. The guy who watched television with me. Sure, I was in love with him, but I knew there was nothing I could or would do about it. I knew what we were to each other for the most part.

Possessiveness had nowhere to live in our complication.

“They were all nice because you were there,” I explained, giving him a side-glance to take in his reaction. “No one came by before you got there.”

He blinked, not caring at all that I was telling him his looks were the reason why I had people drop by. “If they didn’t walk by, it was because they’re blind and dumb, I told you, Van. You had the best-looking promo stuff out of everyone. I took your bookmarks.”

“You really took my bookmarks?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Two.”

He was killing me. He was slowly killing me. “You sneaky ass.” I smiled even wider and patted the hand he had on me. “I really can’t believe you’re here. In The Motherland.”

“I’m from Winnipeg.”

“I know what city you’re from, dummy. I just thought you would never come to Canada.”

Aiden paused. “I don’t hate it here.”

“But you never want to visit and you don’t want to live here. Isn’t that why you… got me? Because you don’t want to move back here?”

“I don’t want to live here.”

“Because of your parents?” I had the nerve to ask.

His head kind of tilted, that full mouth forming a thoughtful line. “They’ll never be the reason I make a decision ever again, Van. I don’t want to live here anymore. I don’t have anyone here except Leslie.” The fork in his hand jerked. “Everything I care about is in the States.”

I gave him a wary look and nodded as if I understood, but I didn’t. Not really.

The big guy just touched me again and I smiled that time.

“I owe you big time.”

That had him groaning before he dug back into the tofu he had on his lap. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said into the container.

“I do. You have no clue how much this all meant to me.”

Aiden rolled his eyes, even though he was glancing down.

“I’m serious. You have no idea. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I don’t need your thanks.”

“Yeah, you do. I want you to know how much it means to me. My own mom didn’t even show up to my college graduation, and you caught a flight to come sit with me and be bored out of your mind for hours. You have no idea how much you’ve made my day—my month.”

He shook his head and raised his gaze, his long eyelashes sweeping low as he leveled that ring of warm brown on mine. “You haven’t left me when I needed you. Why wouldn’t I do the same for you?”