The Wall of Winnipeg and Me (31 page)

“I won’t,” he said, settling on his pillow with his hands under his cheek, his eyes already drifting to a close.

I didn’t need to ask him to promise not to leave me; I knew he wouldn’t if he said so. That was just the kind of man he was.

“Aiden?” I whispered.

“Hmm?” he murmured.

“Thank you for coming in here with me.”

“Uh-huh.” That big body adjusted itself just slightly before he let out a long, deep exhale.

Without turning around, I laid the flashlight down behind me and aimed the beam toward the wall. He didn’t ask if I was really going to leave the flashlight on all night—or at least however long the battery lasted—instead, I just smiled at him as I took my glasses off and set them on the unused nightstand behind me. Then I tucked my hands under my cheek and watched him.

“Good night. Thank you again for staying with me.”

Peeking one eye open, just a narrow slit, he hummed. “Shh.”

That ‘shh’ was about as close to a ‘you’re welcome’ as I was going to get.

I closed my eyes with a little grin on my face.

Maybe five seconds later, Aiden’s spoke up. “Vanessa?”

“Hmm?”

“Why was I saved on your work phone as Miranda P.?”

That had my eyes snapping open. I hadn’t deleted that entry off the contacts when I quit, had I? “It’s a long, boring story, and you should go to sleep. Okay?”

The “uh-huh” out of him sounded as disbelieving as it should have. He knew I was full of shit, but somehow, knowing he knew, wasn’t enough to keep me from falling asleep soon after.

And when I woke up when it was still dark outside, rain pattering the windows, it took me a moment to realize where I was: on my bed, and I was doing my best to imitate a blanket.

Aiden’s personal human blanket.

One of my legs was thrown over his thigh, a forearm was flopped across his bellybutton, and the top of my head was literally nestled onto his bicep. My freaking mouth was an inch from his nipple.

What in the hell was I doing?

Moving my head slightly back, I found Aiden on his back with his palm acting as his pillow—where his pillow was, I had no idea—and his other arm, the one who’s biceps I was using as a pillow, was wrapped around my neck.

Pulling my leg and arm back so that I wasn’t acting like a massive octopus, I slowly rolled over, keeping my head where it was. I tried to imagine what Aiden would have thought if he’d woken up and found me in that position, and I didn’t want to know.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“
I
woke
up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water,” Zac said over a bowl of oatmeal and bananas.

I took my glasses off and let out a big yawn. Aiden had accidentally woken me up that morning at six when he’d rolled out of bed. My bed. The one he’d slept in with me all night. Well, for six hours. I’d tried going back to sleep, but I hadn’t been able to. Instead, I’d laid in bed and watched television until I figured I was awake enough to get some work done before eating breakfast.

“And your door was wide open,” he continued.

I slammed my mouth closed.

“Noticed you weren’t alone, darlin’.” The idiot didn’t even bother hiding the shit-eating grin on his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

Now I could have handled the situation in a few different ways. I could have played dumb. I could have freaked out. Or I could have made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. When you’re dealing with one of the nosiest men in the world, option three was really the only choice. Tapping the fork tines against the plate, I leveled an even look at the dark blond across from me. “The lights went out last night during the storm.”

“Uh-huh.”

He was eating this up. “He knows I’m scared of the dark,” I continued.

“Scared of the dark.” Those tawny eyelashes fluttered. “Uh-huh.”

“That’s all that happened. Stop looking at me like that.”

Zac chuckled before spooning oatmeal into his mouth. “Whatever you want, Mrs. Graves.”

That had me groaning. “It wasn’t even like that.”

“I’m not arguin’ with ya, darlin’.” He
said
that, but I wasn’t remotely convinced he was going to let it go.

“It really wasn’t like that at all,” I added anyway. “He’s just… trying to be my friend.”

A friend who climbed into bed with you? I wondered to myself. Maybe next time he would just get me a lantern for emergencies.

I could easily believe he’d woken up from the lightning and the crazy thunder and the crazier wind. But what had made him think about coming to my room once the lights had gone out? Because he’d seen how it was for me, right? Because he cared at least a little, and that’s what friends did. Or maybe it was because if I had a heart attack in bed, everyone would see that this thing between us wasn’t real, and he wanted to protect his reputation.

I didn’t have the energy or the will to think about it too much.

Zac raised an eyebrow before digging back into his food once more. “You’re more than likely the first person he’s ever tried to be friends with, Van.”

I eyed him, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable. I just shrugged and went back to eating my food. After all, what would be my argument? “You’re his friend.”

“Not so much, sugar.”

I couldn’t totally disagree with him; all the components I thought made up friendship were seriously missing between Aiden and Zac. They didn’t do anything together. As far as I saw, they never really talked to each other, especially since Zac had gotten kicked off the team. That bond between them had become even thinner. They were just, well, roommates.

Then again, this was Aiden. Did we expect him to give hugs and write love letters? “You know, that day we went out and you got hammered? He came downstairs and helped me get you on the couch. He was worried about you. That says something, I think.”

It was obvious he brushed off my words, and I didn’t push. I didn’t get male friendships and I probably never would. “Are you spending Thanksgiving with Diana?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.” I’d texted her a couple days ago and her response had been:
TOO SOON TRAITOR.
I’d give her another week to chill out unless she contacted me first. It wasn’t a big deal. After all, it was just Thanksgiving. How many years had I settled for macaroni and cheese in a box for it? “My little brother has a game on Friday. I’m just going to stay here. What about you?

Zac scrunched up his nose. “I gotta head home. I wouldn’t hold it passed my ma to come get me and drag me back by the ear if I don’t.” He chuffed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

I snickered, thinking of Mrs. James and agreeing with him. She was intimidating and outrageous, and a southern belle down to the tips of her French manicured nails. I’d met her on several occasions when she’d come up to Dallas for games. “I could see her doing that.”

“She would. I think she thinks she’s been givin’ me enough slack since I got released. ‘
My baby needs to come home and let his mama help him get sorted out
,’ her last voicemail said.” He shot me a look. “You wanna come with me?”

For a moment, I contemplated tagging along but shook my head.
“I should probably just stay here. Thank you though.”

He shrugged, only looking slightly disappointed. “If you change your mind, you know you’re welcome.”

“I do. Thanks, Zac. I’d tell you to stay, but honestly, I’m a little scared of your mom. I’d probably drive you myself if I had to.”

“Chicken.”

I grinned. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to go home. Just make sure you keep up with running. I don’t need you slacking off. Your smoker’s lung is bad enough and we’re on a tight schedule.”

He moaned but grudgingly nodded. “I will,” he assured me with a smile that came and went as quickly as it had appeared. “Before I forget again—what the hell is up with you and Christian?”

The grin I had on my face disappeared. “Nothing.”

“Don’t
nothin’
me. You said that thing about not likin’ him for a reason, and I kept fuckin’ forgettin’ to ask you about it. What happened?”

When the hell had I acquired an older brother? I wondered before the tall blond, who looked nothing like me, waved his fingers in a ‘come on’ gesture that had me scowling. “It isn’t a big deal.”

He simply moved his fingers again, and I realized in that moment, he wasn’t going to let this go. He’d put his Aiden britches on, apparently. I figured the sigh that came out of me was well deserved. I dropped my head back, slowly lifted it, and peeked at him with one eye.

“He’s a douche bag. You know that,” I went with, opening my other eye. “And he tried coming onto me once.”

Zac blinked those baby blue eyes. “When?”

“Maybe a year and a half ago.” It was definitely a year and a half ago, but who needed to be specific? “I was out with Diana at a bar and he was there. He was drunk. He recognized me… and then he just started being obnoxious, trying to kiss me and be sneaky and touch my butt. Just douche-bag stuff.”

Reaching up, my friend tugged at his earlobe and shot me the fakest smile someone as genuine as Zac was capable of. That didn’t put me at ease. At all. “No shit, sugar.”

I waved him off. “It isn’t a big deal. I just try to stay away from him now. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

His eyes had kind of glazed over and he seemed to daze off, looking at something over my shoulder.

“Yoo-hoo. Zac?”

His eyes strayed back to look at me, focusing, a real smile finally reappearing on his mouth. “Sorry.”

This guy didn’t have a rude bone in his body; the fact he’d zoned out didn’t sit well with me. I narrowed my eyes at him. “What were you thinking about?”

He threw my words back at me. “Nothing, Mrs. Graves.”

“Stop it.”

T
he next week
went by pretty quickly. I had a lot of work to do, and when I was called and requested for an emergency babysitting job by Diana’s brother, Rodrigo, because she couldn’t get out of her appointments, I didn’t say no. I couldn’t say no. I really liked his boys, and even if Rodrigo was an idiot who refused to believe his sister could lie to him, he was still a great guy. It just so happened that I found a little toy his kids had that made me laugh, and paid them five dollars for it.

My mom had called once to ask if I was planning on coming for Thanksgiving dinner, and I gave her the same response I had every Thanksgiving since I was eighteen. “No.” I’d stopped bothering to make excuses why I couldn’t make it. My little brother wasn’t going to be there, and him begging would have been the only reason I’d show up, but he’d never do that to me. She didn’t say a word about Susie or the other two demons I shared genetics with.

Before I knew it, it was Wednesday and the house was empty. With a Thanksgiving Day game against the Three Hundreds’ top rivals, the only roommate I had who was still in town was gone all the time.

So I was surprised on Wednesday afternoon when my phone beeped from its spot next to me on the desk.

It was Aiden.

Zac was gone and Diana had let me know via text message that she was going to see her parents in San Antonio for Thanksgiving and that if I wanted to come along she wouldn’t purposely wreck her car on the drive there. I texted her back, letting her know I appreciated her generous offer but was fine with staying in Dallas because I was planning on seeing my little brother who was playing a game nearby on Friday. I figured on Thanksgiving Day, I could get ahead on doing some T-shirt designs I’d been inspired to do instead.

I’d barely hit ‘send’ when I cursed, then sent him another message.

He didn’t respond, but when I got out of the shower that night and found something in the team’s colors wrapped in clear plastic on my bed, I stared at it. And when I ripped off the packaging and shook it out to see that it was a brand new Three Hundreds jersey with GRAVES written on the back, I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.

Taking a peek at the clock next to my bed, I saw it wasn’t nine yet and made my way to Aiden’s room, the master bedroom down the hall. His door was closed when I got there, but I knocked, listening for him on the other side.

Sure enough, “Vanessa?”

“It’s Muffin.”

He made a noise I couldn’t distinguish. “Come in.”

I turned the knob and slipped inside, leaving it open behind me. Sitting on the edge of his California king-sized bed, Aiden was busy rubbing a towel over his head. The first thing I noticed was how smooth his jaw was. Without the beard, he looked younger… nicer. I’d only seen him freshly shaved a handful of times in the past since he usually did it at night and it all grew back in while he slept.

“Did the light go out in your room?” The smug-ass dragged a towel over the back of his neck as he asked.

“You’re so funny.” I rolled my eyes so he knew how irritating I thought he was. “Dummy.”

The corner of his full mouth perked up a bit as he tossed his towel into the hamper in the corner of the room.

And it was right then that I realized he was only wearing that little piece of gold resting right by his collarbones and boxer briefs. Gray, form-fitting, made with some kind of spandex, boxer briefs.

My mouth went dry and I averted my eyes to look somewhere else—anywhere else—instead… instead of at those huge thighs I used to see all the time in compression shorts when I would take pictures of him. Or instead of that thick, shadowy bulge tucked along to the left against his leg. I locked my eyes on his dresser. “I, ah, saw the present you left me on my bed,” I noted, grasping for words.