Chapter 12
TWELVE
NOVA
“You sure you want to go out today? I checked the weather yesterday evening, but I swear this storm came out of nowhere.” Aiden’s fingers tug at three sections of my hair as he braids them before we ride to Susana’s.
He keeps his touch gentle, ensuring he doesn’t snag the strands and end up hurting me.
I smile, keeping my eyes shut. “Yes. I checked the weather app, and it said we have a twenty percent chance of the storm hitting us. The odds are low.”
I’ve been afraid of storms since I was a child. A tornado wiped out my childhood home and killed my mother. Ever since her passing, I prefer to have time to mentally prepare before a storm.
Aiden makes a sound at the back of his throat.
He continues braiding my hair and taking his time.
A feel-good shiver rolls up my spine, and I tip my head backward, giving him more access.
He doesn’t need me to do this, since he stands a good foot taller than I do.
I still do it out of courtesy and as a subtle demand for him to keep going.
“Do you think it’ll hit us?” I open my eyes and peek at him over my shoulder.
Aiden tugs the braid, a quiet reprimand for moving when he hasn’t finished. “I don’t want to take any risks of you being out if it’ll storm.”
I smirk and turn back. “You’ll be with me, so I’m not worried.”
Aiden makes a pleased sound and ties off the end of the braid with my favorite pink scrunchie. He smooths his hand over the braid, moving from the top of my head to the middle of my back where it ends.
“Thank you for braiding my hair.” I face him with a smile.
When he grins, the bruised skin on his cheek stretches and looks painful. “I’d do anything for you.”
I frown and poke him in the middle of the chest. “By the way, what happened yesterday?”
“Are you talking about when I played with your pussy in front of your—”
I slap my palm over his mouth and scowl. “Nuh-uh. We’re not talking about that.”
Mirth shines in Aiden’s eyes, and my hand muffles his chuckles.
“We’re talking about the new bruises from someone hurting you. What happened?” I ask.
His fingers circle my wrist, and he tugs. When I don’t move fast enough, he licks the center of my palm and laughs at my scrunched nose. I jerk my hand away from his face and fold my arms over my chest.
“You gonna kiss the bruises better?” Aiden smirks.
I roll my eyes. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then I’ll drop it.”
“Our captive escaped, and I had to chase him down.” Aiden’s smile doesn’t falter, his attention homed in on my face as if he finds it amusing that I’m concerned about him.
“How did he escape?”
“Ryder fell for Kyle playing possum with him.”
“That trick worked on Ryder?” My head rears backward, and I blink several times, shocked that Ryder of all people would have fallen for someone playing dead.
“Yeah, and I gave him shit for it.” Aiden huffs a laugh, then snatches my helmet from the ground and extends it toward me. “If you insist on going out, I want to beat this storm. You ready?”
I slip into the booth’s plastic seat and grab Aiden’s wrist when he passes to sit on the opposite side. He casts a curious glance at me, his dark eyebrow raised.
“Like old times.” I tug him toward me, refusing to let him break the ritual we began when we were younger. This diner holds more memories than the foster home we were in together.
He grins and settles onto the worn plastic-covered bench beside me, then wraps his arm over the back of the bench behind my shoulder.
“Hey, kiddos.” Patricia sidles up to our table with the fond smile she saves just for us. She sets a glass of Dr. Pepper with a straw already in it in front of us, then pats Aiden on the shoulder like a mother would her child.
She reminds me so much of my mom and how warm and kind she was.
“Hey, Patty.” Aiden relaxes in the seat, and his thigh bumps into mine, sending a rush of warmth straight to my chest. “Is Scott still giving you trouble?”
Patricia chuckles. “Nah. The old man must’ve had some sense knocked into him. He’s finally given up drinking. Things have been looking up since.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.” Aiden nods and drums his fingers on the cushion beside my shoulder.
She narrows her eyes and hitches a hand on her cocked hip. “You weren’t the one that knocked sense into him, were ya?”
“Moi?” His eyes widen, and he slaps a hand over his chest, playing the part of innocence. “Never. I’m a good boy.”
My stomach does the weird thing again at his little comment that’s more of an inside joke between us. Even though it’s not a joke.
Aiden doesn’t look at me, but it’s like he knows everything I’m feeling and thinking because the corner of his lip curves into a smirk.
Patricia—oblivious to his teasing toward me—rolls her eyes and swats the back of Aiden’s head, earning a fake grunt from him. He puts on an act of being hurt by rubbing the spot where Patricia smacked him.
“That wasn’t nice.” He chuckles and drops his arm on the back of the seat again.
“Don’t do that shit again or I’ll really give you something to cry about.” Patricia casts one last motherly glare at Aiden, then turns to me. Her features soften, and she smiles. “Hey, honey. You’ve been doing okay? Your brother isn’t giving you too much shit, is he?”
I laugh and wave off her concerns. “I’m fine, and Aiden never gives me trouble, so you have nothing to worry about.”
“Good.” She nods and looks between us.
For a moment, I worry she can see past the front we’re putting on and knows about the taboo deal my brother and I made.
The worry disappears when she says, “You two still want your usual?”
Aiden glances at me, and I nod. He turns to Patricia. “Yeah. And add extra hash browns and make them crispy.”
She pats Aiden’s shoulder with a husky chuckle. “So, your usual. Got it. I’ll be back with your breakfast, kiddos.”
Patricia saunters off, leaving Aiden and me sitting in silence. I stare at the space where the middle-aged waitress had been. It still feels like she’s here with us, leaving a fragment of her down-to-earth personality and the warmth it brings.
“You okay, pretty girl?” Aiden’s voice cuts through my blank state of mind.
“Hmm?”
I blink a few times to clear my head, and only then do I realize how much time has passed. Plates of food sit untouched in front of us. Aiden’s crispy hash browns aren’t covered in ketchup yet, and my strawberry-cheesecake pancakes aren’t slathered in syrup.
“You left me for a while.” Aiden toys with the bottom of my braid, his touch gentle.
“I must’ve disassociated.” I cringe and toss an apologetic smile his way. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, his dark eyebrows pinching together in his visible displeasure. “We can take this to go and head home if you want.”
My back straightens. “No. Really, I’m okay. It’s just . . .” I glance toward the kitchen, where I last saw Patricia. “She reminds me of my mother.”
“She had the same smoker’s voice and I’ll-cut-your-balls-off vibe about her too?” He smirks and twirls the bottom of my braid around his finger.
A laugh bursts out of me, and I don’t care if anyone in the diner looks in our direction to see what the commotion is about.
Aiden grins, his gaze slowly dipping to my lips and lingering for a moment before returning to mine.
I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye and turn to the food. “Thanks, I needed that laugh. But no, Mom had a sweet voice. Just an all-around loving nature. She cared deeply for everyone.”
There wasn’t a holiday where our house wasn’t bursting at the seams with people I considered family. But when I lost her and moved into foster care, I learned that not every home is full of love and not every family wants to spend time together.
If it weren’t for Aiden and the friends I made, I would have given up hope of finding that feeling of belonging a long time ago.
I miss my mom every day, and I curse God for taking her away from me. He cheated me out of making more memories with her. Eight years of knowing her will never be enough.
Aiden unwinds his arm from behind me, and his hand settles over mine.
He turns my palm upward and laces his fingers through mine in a firm but comforting hold.
I stare at our hands for a moment, marveling at the stark difference.
His skin is covered in tattoos and much warmer than my complexion.
He has calluses from working with his hands and the countless fights he gets in, but he’ll never hear me complain. I like the roughness of his skin.
He had this hand down my shorts last night, and he sucked his fingers afterward. The wild thought bubbles to the surface, bringing the same weird flutter to my core.
I rip my gaze from our hands, and he watches me with an unreadable expression.
“She would have loved you too, you know? Mom would have raised hell for you and protected you like you were her own.” I give his fingers a gentle squeeze.
Aiden snorts a sarcastic laugh and pulls his hand from mine. “Nah, I don’t think she would have, but thanks for the ego boost.” He points to my stack of pancakes. “Eat.”
I roll my eyes and turn to the plate of food.
Aiden hands me a fork before smothering his hash browns in ketchup and hot sauce. “So, have you heard from that guy?”
“Yeah.” Butterflies fill my stomach as Brandon’s morning text floats to the forefront of my mind.
In my periphery, I catch Aiden’s head turning toward me just before his gaze burns a hole in the side of my face. “And?”
“He wants to meet up in person.”
All morning, I’ve been trying to forget about Brandon’s request. It’ll be the first time we’ll meet face to face.
Ever since I developed this crush on him, I’ve wanted nothing more than to hang out with him in person, even if it’s something as innocuous as us playing video games or getting a coffee.
His jealousy lit a fire in me. Maybe we can be something more.
However, another emotion is right there with it. One that I’m trying to ignore. Because I’m not actually attracted to Aiden. Am I?
“Oh, yeah?” Aiden bumps his leg against mine. “Looks like the plan is working.”
“I didn’t think it would,” I mumble, then stuff a portion of the pancakes into my mouth.
“You didn’t think it’d work? You wound me, pretty girl. I thought we were on the same page, that I know what I’m talking about.”
I swallow the food and pick at a strawberry with my fork, all while refusing to look at Aiden. “Well, in my defense, I thought this thing we have between us only worked in fiction.”
“Don’t be shy and call it a thing. Call it what it is.” He chuckles and leans in until his mouth hovers beside my ear. “I’m acting as your boyfriend, and you let me kiss and touch you to make another man jealous.”
I glare at him out of the corner of my eye. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”
“I’m fully aware.” He grins and straightens. “But the ladies seem to like that about me.”
“Speaking of women. Shouldn’t we be doing something about those women wanting to get with you?”
I can’t believe I forgot about that part of our deal. I’ve been so focused on winning Brandon’s affections that I overlooked Aiden’s request.
He cocks his head, and his eyes trail down my body, then return to my face. “We don’t need to worry about that right now.”
“But it was part of our deal. Are they still bugging you?”
“Yeah, but I want to help you before we take care of my problem.”
“That’s not how deals work.” I frown and fold my arms over my chest. “I feel bad that you’re helping me and I haven’t done anything for you.”
“Believe me, you’ve helped me more than you can imagine.” He smirks and glances away with a faraway look in his eyes.
“How have I helped you?”
Aiden blinks and turns toward me with the usual playboy smile he reserves for his flings. It’s odd when he does it toward me. Like he sees me as more than just his sister—a conquest that he’ll leave high and dry when he’s done.
“Nova?” he coos.
“Yeah?” I say hesitantly.
“Drop it. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for your help.”
My lips clamp shut. If he doesn’t want my help, how can I accept his? It feels wrong and selfish.
With a sigh, Aiden loops his arm around my shoulder and grasps my jaw to turn my head toward him. My stomach flutters, and I avoid looking him in the eye out of shame. His touch shouldn’t affect me this way.
“I’m not saying I don’t want your help,” Aiden murmurs, leaning in until our noses almost touch, “but the type of help I need requires you to know a few more of my rules, and I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
I meet his stare and tug a small strand of hair at my nape. “The ones that center on sex?”
“Yeah.” His hand slips from my jaw, and he catches my fingers, stopping me from plucking the strand of hair.
“You’re not asking me to have sex with you, are you?” I whisper.
He grins and subtly shakes his head. “No.”
“Then why do I need to know the rules?”
Aiden pulls away and fishes his wallet out of his pocket, then grabs cash and tosses it onto the table before standing. “Let’s go somewhere more private to talk.”