8. Aiden
Aiden
I nsomnia sucks and no one is awake to lie and tell me different.
It’s just one of those things you power through when you’re balls-tired.
I’m on my fourth beer of the night. Or morning. It’s past midnight but my knee bobs and the urge to find my bed isn’t there.
It rarely is even if there’s a gorgeous woman draped over the mattress.
I’m not tired. I’m frustrated, in pain. My knee bothers me, and the doctors can say it’s weather-related all they want.
They can drop their diagnosis like an atomic bomb and tell me I’ll never be able to play football again.
They don’t have to live with a bum leg and a limp.
The fire keeps burning although it’s eaten through our stack of wood, down to embers. The lake is clear without a whisper of a breeze to cause a ripple.
What a fucking fantastic night.
Who needs sleep, anyway?
There’s something about these spring evenings where the rest of the world draws the blankets up to their chins against the chill. They leave me equal parts peaceful and restless.
The cabin has always been our escape.
Soren’s father, Alistair, is my mom’s brother.
The cabin is as much mine as it is Soren’s, I like to think, and we’ve been coming here together since we were boys.
First with our parents to fish for a weekend in the summer, or maybe even a string of weekends if we were lucky.
Then on our own as a break from high school, once we got our driving licenses.
And college where we were both too naive to go against our parents’ wishes and choose our own paths.
Until we wised up.
Fuck ’em. They don’t control us anymore.
It’s still nice to escape.
“You’re deep in thought out here. Is it normal for you to stay up past your bedtime?”
Gilli’s voice sounds soft and announces her presence before she takes the Adirondack chair beside me.
“Sadly, yeah.” The vibe is easy but I’m not in the mood for quips. Instead, I offer her a genuine grin. “I've had issues with insomnia since I was a kid. What’s your excuse?”
She draws her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them, her gaze on something across the lake. “I’m stressed and tired. Sleep isn’t on my radar anymore no matter how tired I am.”
“You know what helps if you’re stressed…” I trail off.
“If you tell me sex or booze, I’ll hit you. I won’t be shy about it either.”
Her snappy retort lightens my churning mind. “I figured you wouldn’t be. I’m not saying either of those. I was going to suggest tea. Chamomile or some shit like that.”
She’s easy on the eyes, a pretty one. Hazel eyes hidden by cat-eye glasses, dark messy hair, and curvy hips perfect for a man to rest his hands on or grab. Even in pajamas and wrapped in a blanket, I know there’s a banging body under there .
“Never been a big tea drinker,” she tells me sadly.
The lazy grin stretches my face. “Let me guess. Anything with excess sugar? I noticed you stayed clear of any kind of soda when you went shopping but you made sure to get coffee creamer. Don’t you know how much fake sweetener is packed in those things?”
“Well, I figured you guys had beer, so why would I need to get drinks? I did get creamer for the coffee. You’re right,” she concedes. “I love sweet things even when I shouldn’t.”
I take another sip of beer and hope the burn will give me some kind of courage even if it’s just in temporary and liquid form.
“You look like the type.”
Her gaze narrows on me and sharpens. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing personal. Just that most women like sweet things. Gestures and that kind of bleeding heart romanticism.”
Why is it so hard to stop looking at her breasts? Or to ignore the smell of her vanilla-and-rosemary scented shampoo?
“Bleeding heart romanticism,” she teasingly repeats. “I’m sure you lay on the sweetness with your girlfriend.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret.” I crook a finger and keep motioning with it until she nestles in close. “I’m a serial dater. Can’t find anyone I want to settle down with. You'll tell me I’m the type, now. How you knew it just by looking at me.”
“To be honest, I haven’t given your dating life much thought.”
“Wow, cold, Gilli. Damn cold. Chill me to the bone.”
Our eyes meet briefly. “It’s nothing personal,” she says with a hint of uncertainty.
I elbow her in the side but at least it gets a little chuckle out of her. The girl needs to smile more. She makes a good show of it whenever she’s in the room with us .
No, not us, I mentally correct, with me .
The moment she and Soren share the same air, the room goes thick and I know to keep the knives hidden away.
“You play like you’re a good girl but I’m starting to get the picture. The quiet preteen has become a mouthy woman. How old are you now, Gilli?”
I know damn well how old she is; it’s part of the fun.
She draws in a breath, her nostrils flaring. “I’m officially out of my teenage angst, Aiden. Being a mouthy woman is kind of a rite of passage.”
“A claiming your power kind of deal?” I press. “I notice you don’t talk about yourself much.”
She’s said basically nothing. Tight-lipped about details and her life.
I like to think my charm helps lower her walls a little.
“There isn’t much to tell,” she hedges. “And I don’t like being an open book. There are some cases where it’s better for you to see what you want to see instead of what’s there.”
People see what they want to see with me, too. There’s no help for it.
We all do the same thing, because it’s human nature, and I’ve gotten pretty fucking good at figuring people out. They see my laugh and the wide smile and think I’m one thing when I’m so much more.
“That sounds like a cop-out.” I adjust my seat on the chair, angling until our knees touch. “I think you don’t want people to see you for who you are.”
“Who does?” She rolls her eyes and takes some of the discomfort out of the moment.
I fumble for my beer bottle and realize the damn thing is empty. Not that I need to drink any more despite using my vacation as an excuse to go nuts.
A low throb has settled at the back of my skull.
“If you’re such an expert on open honesty, Mr. October, then why don’t you tell me what happened to your knee?” she asks .
I chuckle under my breath. “It’s not a secret. Football injury, college. Broken tibia, and a torn meniscus like an added cherry on top. I’m not sure you’ve noticed my permanent limp, since I do a great job of hiding it, but I’ll never be able to play again.”
I try for a casual, lopsided smile but it never gets to full lift off, too stilted to be real.
“Those who can’t do, teach,” I add.
Sarcasm is a great weapon.
Gilli reaches over and rests her hand lightly on my bad knee. Heat spreads from her palm, making my body hum. She lifts those dark eyes to meet mine and hers are so wide behind those glasses and rimmed in black lashes.
“What do the doctors say?”
“The same thing they said when the injury first happened and I went into physical therapy. I’m lucky to walk at all.”
Life might have been different if I’d avoided the tackle or if my tibia hadn’t punched a hole right through my skin like it was nothing. Before then, I’d spent my days training and my spare time up here with Soren. Women, fun, whatever I wanted, without consequences.
Gilli wasn’t a part of the picture then and her being here now doesn’t matter.
She’ll leave, things will go back to normal. Maybe I’ll be able to sample a little before she takes off. Done and dusted.
Her eyes hold mine and she’s the first to look away, although her hand remains loose on my knee.
“Have you ever played sports, Gilli?”
“Nope. This body isn’t made for anything but occasional yoga.” She slides her hand back to her own lap and gazing out across the lake.
I shoot her a sideways look, an eyebrow arched. “Are you sure? You’ve got great curves. I bet you’d do well at softball. You’d be able to knock the others on their asses. ”
She’s still not looking at me. “You think you’re being cute,” she murmurs.
“Correction—I know I’m cute.” My features twist into a practiced smirk that brings the ladies around. “And I’m trying to give you a compliment.”
I chuckle at her expression and the strong line of her profile. The pieces are coming together in my head, slowly, and probably slower than they would have been if I hadn’t had…shit, too many drinks.
Gilli is in no hurry to go through the getting to know you stage, not with any of us, including her stepbrother. Soren’s advice was to stay away from her and keep our distance until she gets tired of being ignored and goes back to wherever she came from.
I’m not sure she’s going.
She’s got a haunted look in her eyes and a stubborn streak a mile long.
It’s not entirely horrible having her around, either. Routine is restrictive and can be stifling. A little change is a good thing. It can give you a mental boost. Unhappily for Soren, I don’t plan on keeping my hands to myself, either.
As far as I’m concerned, Gilli is fair game.
“You don’t talk much. About yourself or anything else,” I comment. “Come on, give me a little something to go on. I’m doing all the heavy lifting.”
She arches her brow and sniffs, tucking her legs in closer to her torso. “Maybe there isn’t much I want to say.”
“Then you would be very different from your mother.” I roll my eyes. “The woman refuses to shut up.”
“You know my mother well?” Her tone goes sharper.
“Of course. I mean, I've seen her at family functions.” I purposely keep my tone light. “Always thought it was odd that a grown-ass woman with daughters could act so much like a single trophy wife. But I guess she’s earned it.”
“Why would you think so?” Gilli asks .
She’s still looking at the lake but I’ve got her full attention.
“Because anyone who puts up with Alistair and his crap deserves a reward. Your mom’s a big “expert” on a lot of subjects, though, especially when she’s got a few drinks in her. Is that why you stop yourself at one beer?”
Gilli hardens her jaw, her chin jutting out and her teeth clenched. “I wouldn’t know. She doesn’t speak to me and the feeling is mutual. I don’t have her new phone number, I don’t want it, and there’s nothing for us to say.”
“You’re angry with her?” I adjust my knee to a more comfortable position.
“You know, if this came from Soren, I’d wonder at the first-degree.”
I hold my hands up. “The thing about people like me? We look cheerful and it puts people at ease. Which gives me some great chances to hone my observational skills.”
“So I suppose you’ve been watching me.” A smile flickers across her face, there and gone in an instant.
But there’s no condemnation in her statement.
“You’re easy to watch. Seems you like to hide behind your anger, but you’re sad. Scared.” I stop myself before I say more. “Soren thinks you’re running from something. He insists.”
Gilli doesn’t bother to offer up a correction or denial. I know about sadness. I know all about how anger comes hand in hand with it.
“I don’t like the fact that you’re talking about me.”
“Sorry, we can’t help ourselves. We’re terrible gossips, I guess.”
She turns back to face me again. “It’s pointless to try and stop you, but I’m not going to give you the answers you’re looking for. So you’re going to have to keep watching.” She blows out a breath. “Just like everyone else.”
My nostrils flare. “I accept those terms.”
“This is comfortable,” she admits after a while. “ A reprieve, even though the conversation is too serious. People need someone easy to talk to, don’t they?”
I shift when the ache in my knee gets too tough to handle, hoping the movement will ease the cramp. “Nothing about me is easy,” I tell her.
Her features twist as she holds back her amusement. “I get it. I don’t have many friends. It’s always been awkward for me to make pleasantries with other people. I don’t have an outgoing personality.”
“Well, there are always things we can work on.”
“What do you have to work on, Aiden?”
“My massive cock, of course,” I answer seriously. “It puts people off. They take one glance at it and faint, either from desire or envy…or both.”
“I totally understand.” She matches my tone.
That alone draws my smile wider. It’s a small moment of bonding in a world where those things are usually only surface level.
I hold myself back. Something in me stills and starts to back-pedal. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve wished for this type of ease on dates. It simply never comes.
That’s why I usually go for sex first.
And if Soren knew I wanted to do more than skim the surface with the step-sibling he hates, he’d decapitate me.
He wants me to keep my distance, and I’ll do my best for the sake of our history.
Besides, I’m not the type to lull someone into a false sense of complacency just to take advantage, anyway. Not anymore.
The sins of the past aren’t easily forgotten. And there is no way I’ll allow myself to use Gillian to make reparations. I certainly won’t jeopardize what my cousin is trying to do by alienating her.
Her mouth twitches suddenly. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I want a peek?” she jokes.
I shake my head. “Nah, I don’t have to. If you’re asking, then it’s clearly on your mind. Maybe you’ll get lucky. I’m also known to skinny dip in the lake.”
“You should be worried about the cold and what it does to Mr. Massive.”
The best thing for me is to stay out of it, all of it, even though there is something so sexy about Gilli. Something about her that draws me to her.
I’d love to feel that sweet ass in my hands. To nuzzle her tits, to kiss her, to fuck her and make her mine, even if it’s only for a night.
It’s not my place .
She stands, stretching her arms over her head, with her face tilted up to the night sky. “I’m heading in even if I’m not going to be able to fall asleep.” She turns to face me. “Are you going to be okay out here all alone?”
“I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”
She smiles, a final farewell, and then the sound of her footsteps grows fainter. Rather than push my luck, rather than go after her and reach for her and feel her warmth…or drag her onto my lap the way I might have, I stand.
And despite the chill, I limp to the lake and dive in, hoping it will clear my head.