The Wall of Winnipeg and Me (26 page)

“Thank you for the food,” he said as he stood up, literally a foot and a half away from me.

The last time we’d been so close together had been when we were in Vegas and I gave him that peck on his mouth in the chapel, but I’d been so distracted at that point with everything going on, I hadn’t been able to appreciate just how freaking huge he was up close. Because big, he was. Tall and broad at the shoulders and chest, that trim waist only made everything else about him more imposing. He was radiating this insane amount of heat and the slight scent of coconut oil he put on his face every time he showered.

Good lord he was attractive.

I swallowed the saliva in my mouth and smiled up at him as if his presence wasn’t a big deal. Like this lack of distance between us was an everyday occurrence. “Okay, well, enjoy your food. I’m going upstairs to watch some TV.”

He thanked me again as he went to the cupboards for a glass.

What the hell had been up with that? I wondered once I was in my room, sitting on the edge of the bed.

What in the living hell had been up with me?

I
was
in my room when the doorbell started going off like crazy. In all the time I’d spent at my new house, no one ever came over. Heck, even when I didn’t live there, no one ever dropped by unexpectedly. The community’s gate kept solicitors out, and his neighbor’s weren’t exactly outgoing. If someone wanted a cup of sugar, they took themselves to the grocery store and bought it. I wasn’t really sure who to expect, but when I checked the peephole, I was completely caught off guard.

Completely, totally, 200 percent caught off-guard.
Damn it.

It was Trevor. The guys’ manager. The king of all asswipes.

“Who is it?” Zac yelled from somewhere upstairs, more than likely his bedroom. He had just gotten home about an hour ago, and we were planning on going for a run soon.

“It’s Trevor!” I whisper-hissed, totally aware that he could hear me. The front door was sturdy but it wasn’t soundproof.

There was a sound. A curse. Then Zac: “I’m not here!”

Double damn it
. “Fine! You owe me!”

“Sure!” the traitor bellowed before his door slammed closed.

Grinding my teeth, I said a prayer under my breath and undid the lock.

“Hi… Trevor.” I kind of sniffed with a frown, not even bothering to make myself smile and act as if I was happy to see him. The fact was: I wasn’t. The wonderful fact was: I didn’t have to pretend to be.

The emperor of jackasses didn’t even waste the effort it would have taken to pretend to be civil. His expression went from exasperated, to blank, to shocked, and finally into a scowl in the blink of an eye, and the scowl kept pulling down at his lips each second that passed. “Where’s Zac?” he practically spat.

What would happen if I closed the door on his face?

I knew Trevor had found out that we’d gotten married, and I was aware they’d ‘talked about it,’ whatever that meant. But I had no idea what had been said. No idea what Trevor knew or didn’t know. And I suddenly wanted to cuss at myself for opening the door before finding out what I was supposed to say.

But if anyone could smell weakness in the air, it was this asshole. I couldn’t falter. I couldn’t bend. So I blinked at him, cool and distant. “Oh, hey. I’m doing great and you?”

The lines bracketing his mouth deepened, making his dark hairline pull forward. I wasn’t imagining it when his eyelid twitched. “Don’t get me started on you. Where’s Zac?”

“Please, don’t scare me.” That time, I couldn’t help but smirk at him, getting too much pleasure from the disdainful expression on his face. “Zac isn’t here.”

Trevor stared at me with those condescending eyes of his, that twitchy eyelid getting worse. “I know he’s here.”

“He’s not.”

“You were just yelling at him!” His shoulders hunched and everything. “I heard you.”

I leveled an even glare at him and his three-piece suit in this weather. “First off, don’t yell in my face. Secondly, you’re imagining things because I’m home alone.”

He didn’t need to say it. I could tell word for word what he was thinking and that went along the lines of “I hate you.”

I didn’t like him either. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I’d be thinking the same thing too because I know he’d heard me.

“You’re really going to tell me he isn’t here?” he asked, cocking his head a half inch and looking at me through narrowed eyes.

I nodded, busting out my best acting skills to smile brightly at him even though I was aware there was nothing to brag about.

He simply stared at me.

And I smiled even wider. “I really need to get back to work. You should give him a call. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

That must have been enough to snap him out of whatever trance he was in because he shook his head. “That’s why I’m here. He isn’t answering my calls. He isn’t answering anyone’s calls or any fucking e-mails. He’s turned into Aiden—”

That immediately made my ears go hot. “Hey.”

“It’s completely unacceptable.”

I sucked in a breath and grinded my teeth, raising my hand up to stop him. “Stop it.” Yeah, I went for it. What was he going to do? Fire me? “Calm down. Chill out. Don’t yell in my face because I will slam the door shut in yours. I don’t know why neither one of them return your calls or your e-mails, so maybe think about that, huh? They’ll call you back when they want to call you back, but I wouldn’t call you back either if I was just going to get bitched at. And don’t talk shit about your clients in front of me. I don’t like it and it’s unprofessional.”

His face had progressively gotten redder with each word that came out of my mouth. A heavy vein in his neck had begun standing out at some point. “Do you understand how this works?” he asked carefully, crisply.

If he thought I was going to back down, he had another thing coming. Months ago, I would have kept my mouth shut and dealt with the fact he was technically my superior. He wasn’t anymore though. “You work for them, right?” I asked in a smart-ass tone.

“You don’t know anything,” he hissed.

What was the point in wasting my breath?

Was he shaking? “I don’t know what you did to get Aiden to marry you, but we should hash this out now,” Trevor kept going.

“You think I did something to marry him?” I scoffed, slightly panicking. Trevor had seen us together when I worked for Aiden; he had to have witnessed the lack of fireworks between us.

The jerk nodded in that way that said how much of an idiot he genuinely thought I was. “Are you pregnant?”

The “no” was so sharp and ready on my tongue that I almost didn’t catch it. It just about slipped from my lips from how pissed off I was at his ridiculous fucking assumption. What did he think I was?

A tramp. He thought I was a gold-digging tramp.

Of course that’s what he thought. Why wouldn’t he? I couldn’t imagine how many times Aiden must have made it clear how little he cared about my existence in the time we worked together.

The point was, I was still insulted. And I didn’t owe him shit, even if I wasn’t pregnant.

Biting down hard on my molars, I flashed him a crazy-person smile. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters!” he barked, pointing at me as his ears turned red. I’d swear on my life there should have been steam coming out of them to perfect the moment. “He told me you two don’t have a prenup.” He literally gasped in outrage. “That was the second thing I told him he needed to have when I signed him. Wear a condom and sign a prenup—”

I raised an eyebrow at him, just letting him vent by that point.

“—and of all the women in the world—
of all the women in the world
—he marries you. In Vegas. In secret, and he doesn’t tell me. I’m trying to do what’s best for him.”

There’s really only so much you can take from someone who’s speaking so fast, whose voice turns so shrill, it reminds you of a chalkboard. “Then do what’s best for him. I’m not going anywhere, and you don’t need to understand what there is between us. You aren’t the only one who wants him to do well. So how about you worry about the things that really matter, like where he’s going to play next year, if you really want to stress about something your little peanut brain can’t understand.”

Trevor stared at me for a second, his throat expanding, nostrils flaring. “
Peanut brain
?”

“I’m done talking to you. I’ll definitely make sure to tell both of them you were here. Bye.” Just like that, I calmly shut the heavy door in the middle of him speaking. I hadn’t even slammed it. How was that for being a badass?

It took a second for me to realize just how draining that conversation had been. Sheesh. I honestly felt a little sick as I climbed the stairs back to my room.

I’d really never done anything to him. Not a single freaking thing besides be a smart-ass when he deserved it. Good grief.

Just as I was walking back to my bedroom, Zac’s door swung open and his face peeked at me from the crack, all big eyes, nose, and mouth. “I’m sorry.”

I waved him off. “You owe me. Get dressed so we can go on a run.”

He wrinkled his nose. “You want to go out to eat instead?”

“No.” I smiled at him brightly. “Get dressed and let’s go. You need to get out of the house, darlin’.”

“Van,” he nearly whined as I disappeared into my room and closed the door behind me.

Before doing anything else, I picked up my phone and sent Aiden a quick message.

I’d taken off my clothes when my phone beeped with a message.

T
he following afternoon
, I heard the footsteps bounding up the steps before Zac burst into my room, his socks skidding across the floor. “Trevor’s here,” he hissed with raised, expectant eyebrows.

“Did you let him in?”

He shot me a look. “
No
, I don’t want to see him. I heard someone park and checked the window. I told Aiden he was here before I came up.”

“Huh.” Thank God for small miracles. It was a Tuesday, which meant Aiden had the day off since he’d just played a game in San Francisco. I narrowed my eyes at him and he squinted his right back before I raised a shoulder and cocked my head to the side. “So are we eavesdropping or what?”

“Duh.” The man who hadn’t smiled enough in recent days finally graced me with one. During our seven-mile jog yesterday, he’d frowned and pouted throughout the entire thing, probably cussing me out in his head. So I was glad we were back to being on speaking terms.

The sound of the front door opening and closing had me inching toward the doorway of my room. I’d stayed up the night before worrying about whether Trevor would dare come up the stairs to find that, while I was technically married to Aiden, we weren’t exactly married-married. Obviously, it was a big flaw in our charade. It had only been the knowledge that Leslie was a gentleman and would never snoop or wander around upstairs that had worked in our favor. Otherwise, that would have been an awkward explanation.

Then I realized how dumb of a worry Trevor coming to the second floor was. Of course he wouldn’t. Aiden wouldn’t let him get anywhere near the stairs to begin with.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t curious as hell about what they were going to talk about.

And that was the excuse I was sticking to as Zac and I crept out of my room, and then crawled toward the top landing of the stairs, plopping on our butts, one ear aimed toward the stairs. I’d bet my savings account that Aiden wouldn’t invite Trevor into his sanctuary—the kitchen and nook. I wasn’t at all disappointed when their voices ended up in the living room, where I could hear their conversation almost clearly. I didn’t bother reliving the last time I’d eavesdropped from this exact spot.

“What the hell, Aid? I’ve tried calling you a dozen times,” Trevor’s slightly higher tone started.

What did our household smart-ass respond with? “I know. I have caller ID.”

Oh hell, it almost made me crack up when he talked to other people like that. Okay, really, it was me just getting a kick out of him talking to Trevor that way. I really didn’t like that guy.

Silence. Then Aiden’s low voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you and Zac since neither one of you will get back to me.”

“We talked a week ago. What else is there for us to talk about?”

“Telling me ‘Yes, I got married’ and ‘I’ll make sure she goes to games,’ then hanging up on me isn’t considered us talking, Aiden. Jesus Christ. How could you not tell me beforehand?”

“It isn’t your business.”

“Everything about you is my business. You married your fucking assistant, man. I found out about it when the team’s PR called me, asking me about a marriage certificate.” Trevor was shouting.

“I married someone who I’ve known for two years and who no longer works for me. She’s over age and so am I. I didn’t get caught with drugs. I didn’t get arrested at a strip club. I didn’t get into a fight. Don’t treat me like a child, Trevor
. I don’t like it.”

Zac and I shot each other impressed looks.

“Then don’t act like a child. I told you.
I fucking told you from the beginning
you need to think with your head and not your dick, and you marry Vanessa during the season
without a goddamn prenup.
What the hell were you thinking? Is she pregnant?”

“You really believe I was thinking with my dick?” Aiden’s voice was cool and crisp, remote and solitary.

Creepy. It was really creepy as hell.

“You weren’t thinking with your head,” was the stupid thing that came out of Trevor’s mouth, giving me the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

“Don’t presume you know anything, because you don’t. You don’t know anything about me, or Vanessa. And if she is pregnant, don’t make that fucking face unless you’re ready for the consequences.”

Uh… he’d said the ‘F’ word, hadn’t he? I hadn’t been imagining it?

“She’s my wife, and all she’s ever done was watch out for me. Don’t go there, Trevor. You don’t want to go there, understand me?”

I was so freaking making him dinner. Maybe even lunch too.

“I didn’t mean it in that way,” the manager stuttered.

Aiden might have scoffed but the sound was too low for me to be sure.

His manager made a noise that sounded like a choke or a cough. “I didn’t mean anything by it, man. Calm down. You dropped this bomb on me all of a sudden and it isn’t a walk in the park trying to sort it out. Rob and I talked about it, and it would’ve been nice if we could have built up a story around it—”

“You really think I would have wanted to broadcast my marriage?”

“It would have been a good idea. You should have—“

“
I
don’t need to do anything. You need to keep your mouth shut the next time you talk about her or us, and focus on doing your job instead. What the hell do you think I’m paying you for?”

“Nobody else would talk to me the way you do,” was the brilliance Trevor came back with, sounding just as indignant as I’m sure he was feeling.