Chapter 22
Well, tonight hasn’t gone exactly as planned.
This is what I get for trying to do something semi-romantic with my stepbrother. Because while I didn’t say it was a date, I absolutely implied—and wanted—it to be one.
The restaurant was reservation-only. Should’ve expected that for a Saturday night.
We ended up sitting in the car for a while, both of us dressed for a fancy dinner neither of us was going to eat. But somehow, without saying a word, we knew what the other was thinking. Alysa used to say she and Ayden had those twin moments—silent exchanges that needed no explanation.
I’m glad Ayden and I aren’t related by blood. Because one, that would be weird. And two, if we were, I’d probably have to move to another country with the way I’m attracted to him.
“The food was… okay,” Ayden says, leaning back in the red leather booth of the diner we settled on. “But the ice cream seriously made up for it.”
He runs his tongue along the swirl of caramel and vanilla, slow and unbothered, like he doesn’t know what it’s doing to me. My eyes lock on his mouth, and for the life of me, I don’t know how I’m supposed to resist leaning across the table and tasting the sweetness off his lips.
We’ve spent the better part of the last half hour just laughing—not about the heavy stuff from the past eight years, but about high school. Stupid stories and little memories, the kind that still make us laugh until our sides hurt.
Only when the conversation drifted to me leaving for college did the mood shift back toward the present.
“I didn’t mention this,” Ayden says, licking a smudge of caramel off his thumb, “but I met the neighbors. Or, well, two cabins. Evelyn and Levi Black—they’re the new residents in Echo Ridge. The girl from Sanderson Pine, Calista, was there as well.”
His chuckle rolls out, light and easy, and damn, I love hearing it. Especially when it’s genuine, and not forced. Lately, those fake flashes have been fewer, but they still creep in sometimes.
“I told you Clover jumped on my throat and caused that bruise? Yeah… that girl Evelyn is crazy.”
I’ve never seen red so fast in my life.
“Excuse me?” I’m halfway out of my seat, to do what I have no idea, before he throws up a hand.
“It was a misunderstanding.”
Christ, he should’ve led with that. “Did she hit you?”
“Mmm… more like put me into a headlock.”
“What the fuck—”
“She thought I was peeping on them, I think.”
My jaw tightens. I’ve never hit a woman before—and I hope to God it stays that way.
“Anyway,” he goes on. “I think I’m going to hang out with Calista while you’re at work. If you’re good with that.”
My brows knit together. “Uh… yeah?”
“Cool.” He takes a bite of his ice cream cone, teeth crunching right through it, and I shudder.
“Don’t do that.” I reach over, wrapping my hand around his wrist and pulling it away from his face.
He blinks at me. “Do what?”
“Bite into it like some animal. Isn’t it cold?”
His shoulders shake with mirth, his laughter bubbling out again.
The edge of my lip twitches upward, warmth pooling in my chest. I could get used to this.
A soft ding pulls my attention to the door. Two cops walk in—one on his phone, the other scanning the room. I don’t recognize either of them, but I’ve only met a handful on the force. The one looking around catches my eye, gives me a nod, and steps into line with his partner.
“Do you even like ice cream? I’m shocked you got a smoothie.” Ayden’s voice reels me back in to where I want all my attention anyway.
“Not the biggest fan.” Slowly, I drag my hand away from his wrist before I get any reckless ideas, like pulling him across the table and tasting the ice cream off his lips.
“Why’d you want to come here then? We could’ve just done a drive-through and gone back to the cabin.”
I lean forward on my elbows, resting my cheek in my palm while the other hand stirs my drink in lazy circles. “Couldn’t let our outfits go to waste. Even if it’s just a place like Dairy Queen.”
“Fair point. You look really good.” His voice drops, almost slips, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He covers it fast with another bite of his cone.
Goosebumps ripple over my arms.
“You’re the prince here, sunshine.”
Color floods his face—cheeks, nose, even the tips of his ears. It’s beautiful, that shade of red against his perfect features.
“What does that make you?” His voice has an edge to it now, like he’s daring me.
“Your knight.”
His eyes dip, his chin following, but not before I catch the press of his teeth against his bottom lip.
And fuck, if that action doesn’t cause tingles to go straight to my balls.
Something snags his attention. Ayden’s head jerks right, then back to me, then right again. The fear that flashes across his face is instant and it yanks me straight into fight mode.
I whip my head left, hands gripping the table, ready to swing at… I don’t even know what.
Two cops. Just the same two guys in uniform stepping up toward the counter to order. Not even looking at us. My adrenaline, hot and sharp a second ago, slams into confusion like a deer caught in headlights.
What the hell?
When I snap back to Ayden, his face is pale. Something’s wrong.
“Hey, you al—”
“We should go.” His voice is clipped. He drops his cone, half eaten, onto the tray and slides out of the booth.
Something twists in my gut. He doesn’t just want to leave. He needs to.
I fumble with the table edge, peeling myself out of the cramped booth. My size was never built for these damn things, and it takes me longer than I want to stand. My eyes flick back, one last look at the officers who are ordering their food, or ice cream.
Not a threat that I can tell.
Except Ayden thinks otherwise.
I rush after him, out the front door, the cold night air slapping my face.
“Ayden!”
He literally sprints to the truck and tries to open it. Although this town is safe, I don’t just keep my shit unlocked. Turning to me, he looks absolutely petrified.
Had it been from the police?
I’m right in front of him and the moment he’s about to say something, I cut in. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you see them looking at us?”
Holy shit. Does this tie back to the accident? He said people helped him, but I never really understood what that meant. Helped him how? Covered for him? Got him out of something? Is he running from them now?
No. That’s insane. Right?
He’s talking fast—spilling words like a dam breaking—but I only catch fragments due to my head being too loud.
I have to play this carefully. The way he panicked at the idea of me judging him… I can’t come at him like he’s overreacting or broken. That’ll just push him away.
If he’s in trouble, yeah, the right thing to do is steer him toward fixing it legally. By the book.
Except, I’d rather walk naked in the woods with slabs of meat hanging all over me for a predator to have its next bite, than to be separated from him again. As stupid as that is, I can’t send him back if that’s what’s going on.
“—I think they were taking my photo.”
I place a hand gently on the curve of his shoulder, and that’s enough to silence him.
“Listen to me.” I sigh, and as he leans back against the truck, I step closer. Our bodies are so near that only the wind could slip between us. “You’re safe. Whatever you think you saw, don’t worry about it.”
The moment his gaze starts drifting over my shoulder, I catch him. “Eyes here, Ayden. On me. Don’t think about anything else.”
His chest rises sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.
“Breathe. Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
A sudden shift in his expression tells me I’ve said the wrong thing.
“I’m not afraid.”
“You clearly are, but it’s fine, I’ll—”
“It’s not fine. Don’t treat me like—” He tries to shove me, but I snatch both his wrists and step back. “I’m not scared. I’m just…”
I give him the moment, keeping his wrists in my grip but slowly lowering them between us. He doesn’t pull away, but I can see the change in him—panic fading into anger, flickering back and forth as if he can’t decide where to land.
Personally, I’d rather him stay angry. I don’t want to see him afraid or upset.
I’ve been so focused on him, I don’t hear the footsteps approaching.
“Everything alright out here?”
I suppress the groan rising in my chest.
Releasing one of Ayden’s wrists, I turn to see the two officers from inside standing a few feet away. One’s still eating his ice cream, the other—the one who must’ve spoken—has his hands tucked into his pants pockets.
“All good here, officers. Thanks for checking in.”
I start to turn back when he asks, “And you?”
I assume he means Ayden. Stepping slightly to the side so they can see I’m not holding him, he mumbles, “I’m fine.” He straightens, but keeps his chin low, avoiding eye contact.
Suspicious. Great.
Rather than wait for them to start questioning us, I sigh and go with honesty. “He’s not comfortable around police—like a lot of people these days. It’s not just you guys. I’m with the Maple Falls firehouse, under Chief Easton.”
The officer grins. “Ah, Dom. I always lose to that son of a bitch in fantasy football.”
I force a smile. Truth is, if Ayden wants space from them, I’ll respect it. Even if he’s being cryptic as hell.
“I’ll tell him to ease up.”
“Nah, I’ve got a solid team this year. What’s your name? I’ll tell him I ran into you.”
“Pierce.”
The second I say my last name, Ayden squeezes my fingers tight. It’s only then I realize my grip on him has shifted—from his wrist to his hand.
“Pierce. Got it. Alright, you two sure you’re all good?”
“Yup. Thanks for your concern.”
I don’t turn away until they’re nearly back at their vehicle. Then I release Ayden’s hand and face him. “Get in. We can talk on the way home.”
He shakes his head. “If it’s alright with you, I’d rather not.”
There he goes again, shutting down.
“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re not the only one uneasy around them.”
“Keoni—” Damn, the full name. “—I’m not fucking afraid of them. Just unlock the door.”
I pull the key from my pocket and pop the lock. He yanks the door open and throws himself inside, slamming it shut before I can speak.
I stare for a moment, then take the long walk around the back of the truck to the driver’s side. I need to understand what’s going on with him.
He’s got a week left before his thirty days are up. I wonder if he’ll tell me in time—or if I’ll be forced to find out my own way.