5. Aidan #2
She leans forward without realizing she has.
Keeping my distance is difficult, the need to comfort her warring with common sense.
If I hug her, I’ll kiss her, then I’ll fuck her on this desk, and she’ll still be upset when I leave.
If she talks to me about this, there’s a chance of her truly getting over the fuckwad, or at least moving on.
“Consider it part of the relationship training,” I offer, opening my hands and clasping them again.
“I’m teaching you how to have a relationship in this century, right? ”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not that out of touch.”
“Tell me,” I say.
“Where does it hurt?” she asks, wincing.
“Everywhere.” Magnolia folds her arms around her stomach.
“How will I ever trust a man again? How will Kendall move on? A father is supposed to be a role model for their daughter. The type of man they grow up and seek out as a partner.” She lays a hand on her forehead.
“If he ruined her, I’ll kill him. You’ll have to do it for me.
You protect your kids at all costs, and I couldn’t protect her from this. ”
“Children are resilient,” I say, hesitant to give anything that might lead to questions I don’t want to answer.
“You are a good role model. That’s what she needs.
She’s old enough to realize what he did was wrong.
She won’t seek out a cheater or a liar. She’ll want a real man.
She’ll be able to sniff out lies better than her peers who haven’t had this particular experience.
He gave her that gift. The ability to know the difference.
Your daughter will get over this. Now, will you?
Put her aside for just a second and tell me what you’re afraid of outside of parenting and Kendall. Trusting again?” I ask.
Magnolia closes her eyes, and I can see her compartmentalizing. When her gaze meets mine, I see a fire there. “You know when you’re young, before you’ve been burned at all?”
I don’t. That was a luxury I wasn’t granted, but I nod anyway.
Magnolia goes on, talking with her hands.
“Paul was with me since then. There was never a second I didn’t trust him.
It was always him and me—us. We learned how to be adults together.
It was this fragility built from childhood into adulthood.
When he cheated,” she says, blowing out a breath, “that ruined everything for me. That magic you think is exclusive doesn’t exist. It was wiped out with a tsunami of grief. ”
“You grieve. You move on,” I add.
She shakes her head. “I have. I’ve grieved. How is it fair he gets to have that magic? Without me? We created that together. Does that make sense?”
I clear my throat. Entering awkward territory. “Do you miss him?”
“No. Yes. No. I miss how simple it was when we were together.”
“Simple. You used the word ‘simple,’ Magnolia. True love isn’t simple.”
“What do you know about true love?”
I look away. More than I should, that’s for sure.
I’m only in touch with the cruel, masochistic side of love.
I know exactly what it’s not supposed to be.
“This isn’t about me. You can have that feeling again.
It may not look the same. Or feel the same.
It can be different and be just as satisfying. But you don’t want different, do you?”
“I want him to suffer like I did.”
I correct her. “Like you do. You’re obviously suffering now.”
She covers her eyes with both palms and rubs back and forth. “That’s the thing. I thought I was over him, Aidan. Last night with you. I felt so much. It was an awakening. For stupid news about Paul and Pamela to crash in and ruin everything is devastating. I’m angry he has power over me.”
“You’re giving it to him.”
“You’re right,” she counters, sighing. “How do I take the power back? Tell me how not to care. I can’t feel like this anymore. It’s sucking away all my happiness.”
“Last night,” I say, raising one brow. “How did you feel?”
She opens her eyes wide as she lets memories trickle back in. “There was no pressure. It was easy. I was free.” She licks her lips. “I wasn’t with you to forget him or get over him. I was merely with you.”
“Because it was casual?” I prod.
She looks away. “Because of you.” Magnolia shakes her head and looks down.
“What? Tell me.”
“You called me your girlfriend in front of Polly, and I hoped you meant it. I know how crazy that is, given we’d only texted a bit and had dinner, but I wanted it to be true.
I’m ready for that. I feel like a different person with you.
When you just said it can be different but just as satisfying, I knew exactly what you meant.
I felt that. I feel like a dope admitting this to you.
I barely know you, and you don’t know me other than I’m a mess,” she continues, slurring her words a bit as she moves her hand up and down her body, attempting to highlight the mess she thinks she is.
“I know I don’t want Paul.” She shakes her head.
“I didn’t know I could want someone like I want you. ”
My heart pounds a bit, and it’s the first indication that I might feel something that’s not altruistic—an actual blossoming of an unrecognizable emotion. “You’re not a dope, and I know that you’re a brave woman. A strong woman. You’ve lived through a blow that could take a human down.”
She waves around the room. “Is this not me down? Looks like bottom-feeder status to me. Sobbing into a dusty wineglass, whining to a stranger about my ex-husband.”
I shake my head. “You’re strong when it matters. Everyone reaches a breaking point. Nd I’m not a stranger, Magnolia. I can still taste you. We are far from strangers.”
A blush creeps up her cheeks. “I do feel better now.”
“Because you got it all off your chest?” I ask.
“No. Because you cared enough to stay and listen.”
My throat clogs with emotion. “I’ve taken Paul from you,” I say, clearing my throat halfway through my sentence. “That fucker is owned by Aidan Mixx. You understand?”
“For what price?”
“My manhood,” I counter, grinning. The big one I know she’ll respond to.
Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips. Perfection.
“Manhood?” she asks, voice low.
“Will you be my real girlfriend, Magnolia Sager? Not for pretend to get the chicks off my jock, but because I like you. I like that you’re complex—that you tell me what’s on your mind even if it might make me uncomfortable.
I like that you put your daughter first. I like that you want magic after being hurt.
I like that you’re good.” I shake my head.
“I’m not going to let anyone else ruin you, and you’re not going to fix me,” I deadpan.
“Let me try to fix you, and maybe your magic will rub off on me.”
Her full, wet lips open a touch to expose her white teeth. “I’m drunk, but you’re serious right now, aren’t you? This is real life?”
“You’re a cheap date,” I say. “I’m nothing if not serious.”
Magnolia stands from her stool and crooks her finger at me. “I’d sit on your lap right now, but we’d break that chair. It’s a mid-century Bentwood.”
Standing slowly, I let out a deep breath to clear my head and the nervous energy in the air.
“You’re so hot when you talk antique to me,” I drawl, stepping closer to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her against my body.
She’s warm, and her reaction to my touch is immediate.
Her flesh bristles and her breath catches.
“Tell me more,” I rasp, my cock straining against my jeans.
She goes on her tiptoes and presses her lips up to meet mine. I groan when the first taste hits my senses. Relief. Sweet, blissful relief. I’ve craved this in unquantifiable amounts. Her lips smack as she pulls away to say, “One owner. Nice patina. 1940s. Maybe ’30s.”
“Fuck yes,” I growl, taking her lips again.
I get carried away easily—lifting her body to set her on the desk.
Her legs wrap around my waist, and I’m hit with the frantic need to be inside her.
There’s a desperation I’ve felt only a couple of times before.
Once was when I returned home from a year-long deployment.
A year without sex. It was the longest I’d ever gone, and my brain crossed so many wires I wasn’t sure where to begin when I had a woman in my bed the day after I got back in the States.
I had to hold back the urge to go caveman on her and fuck a hole in the mattress.
The sex ended with me having a girlfriend.
It was as if I’d tricked myself into thinking the sex was something special when really it was my first wet pussy in a long-ass time.
The woman was a narcissist—an opportunist. I figured it out eventually, but not before I gave a little more than I wanted to.
Right now, with Magnolia, the desperation is in opposition to that relationship.
It’s a need to show her that I can fuck Paul away.
That I can give her more than he can. I’ll make her crazy.
Prove that her ex is a bad memory that isn’t worth being haunted over.
I’ll make sure she knows I’m capable of being the man she needs.
Does it appeal to my need for a challenge?
Yes. It doesn’t change the fact everything I said to her is truth. I do like her. I want her.
“Is this going down right here?” I ask. “The chair is safe, but I might break the desk.” My lips are speaking against her mouth, but she’s watching my eyes. “Where can I make love to you?”
Her breath catches, and her arms slide from around my head to push against my chest. I think I’m being shot down completely until she smirks and takes my hand. “Come with me.”
“I hope to,” I say, letting her guide me out of the room.