Alarm

I still didn’t understand what had upset him on the phone in the airport or his violent words during late-night phone conversations at his house. His explanation didn’t account for the gun and everything that followed. It didn’t clarify Aiden’s occupation or what had happened after he was arrested. There were still plenty of things I didn’t know, but I would have to save all of that until morning.

With the sandwich devoured, I collected my luggage from where Redeye had left it and brought it back to the bedroom. I found my phone charger—it had been the first thing I packed—and then my toiletry bag and pajamas. The shower went silent, and I knew Aiden would still be a couple of minutes, so I went ahead and changed clothing where I was.

Aiden emerged from the bathroom, still scruffy-faced, but clean. He stared at me for a moment before he climbed into bed. I took a deep breath and then slid in beside him. He placed his hand on my waist, and I felt myself stiffen reflexively. I had no idea what he was expecting.

“I won’t make a move,” Aiden said quietly. “Not until you tell me I can.”

“I appreciate you telling me this time.” I relaxed immediately then reached up and stroked his cheek. I was torn between not wanting to get his hopes up and simultaneously not wanting to crush them. I still didn’t know what would happen in the morning.

I knew I couldn’t be in a relationship with a criminal.

I looked at his red-rimmed eyes, and my heart went out to him and the long-overdue pain he was experiencing. Could I be friends with him, regardless of everything else? That would put us on a completely different level, but could I do it? Could I remain friends with Aiden once I knew everything, even if I couldn’t reconcile his activities with my own conscience?

As always, there were too many questions and not enough answers. For now, I would leave it all alone and let him get the rest he needed.

And with that, I pulled his head to my shoulder and waited for him to sleep.

SEVENTEEN

Aiden dropped off almost immediately. I wondered how long it had been since he’d actually slept. I had the impression he’d been right where I had found him for some time and could have been sleeping, leaning up against the wall for all I knew.

It was only early evening, and despite the plane ride and emotionally exhaustive discussion, I wasn’t tired enough to sleep. Instead, I lay against the pillows and watched Aiden. Even in slumber, he still looked pained.

As I always did, I questioned my thoughts and feelings as I held him. I was torn between the empathy I felt after learning about the horrible and violent way Aiden had lost his family and the reservations I had about the questions that remained unanswered.

He turned restlessly, and I moved a little closer to wrap my arm around his waist. He settled with a sigh, and his hand slid around my back and landed on my shoulder blade. I lay my head on his chest and listened to him breathe.

The need to make a decision, to know what I was going to do when all of this was over, was pressing. Aiden had suffered a terrible loss and would need ongoing support, but I didn’t know if I would be able to provide it.

As much as I enjoyed my time with Aiden, and as much as I had learned from him, I knew in my heart that I couldn’t support someone who lived his life outside the law. Thrill-seeking within certain parameters was one thing, but I didn’t have it in me to be in a relationship with a criminal.

You still don’t know everything.

I feared when I learned the truth, I would have to leave him.

Yet here I was—back in his bed, back in his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way his skin looked next to the white sheets, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his hard, muscled body against my flesh. With his arm around me, the feeling of security was undeniable, and I realized how much I had missed him.

So I spent my evening holding Aiden, watching him sleep, and tracing the line of his bicep with my finger. I examined the tattoos running up and down his right arm, trying to understand the significance of each. I remembered the feeling of his hands on my body and the words he would say to me—both the dirty and the sweet ones—when we were having sex.

The ceiling fan turned slowly above my head, casting shadows on the walls. The small slits in the blinds over the window let in strips of light, brightening the dark wood of Aiden’s bedroom furniture. It was all so familiar, so normal.

Aiden stirred, and his eyes fluttered open for a moment. He blinked at me slowly before moving his hand to touch me face.

“Are you a dream?” he asked quietly.

“No,” I said with a smile. “I’m here.”

“She took Cayden and left in the middle of the night,” he said. “I just woke up, and they were gone.”

I could see it in my head: Aiden waking up to an empty bed, checking his son’s room and looking round the house only to find himself alone.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He nodded as he tightened his arms around me and closed his eyes again.

Eventually, I slept.

When I woke, Aiden was still asleep. Soft rain pattered on the window, and I hoped the sound of it would help him get all the rest he so obviously needed. I untangled myself from his arms and made a quick trip to the bathroom. It was only seven-thirty, so I called my boss and left a voice mail that I was still sick. I returned to the bedroom and climbed in beside Aiden just as he was opening his eyes.