Chapter 17
17
AIDAN
We’re on our flight back to Charleston, and normally, I would be spiraling, but right now, I’m exhausted and trying not to panic. For our last night in New York, Rhodes, Wren, Copeland, Lyla, and I all went out to this tiny place someone had recommended and ended up with food poisoning, effectively shredding any hope I had left that I could convince Ly to give us a chance before we return to reality today.
I got away with only some mild symptoms, and I didn’t want my girl suffering alone when it hit because Wren was with Rho, so I brought her back to our room so I could take care of her.
For whatever reason, it hit Lyla and Copeland harder than the rest of us, and they’ve been commiserating since we got back from dinner. I don’t know if it was sharing a bathroom floor with him for most of the night or just them bonding over feeling awful, but they’ve been inseparable all day.
In any other circumstances, I would be out of my mind jealous watching the girl I like be so friendly with another man, but it’s kinda cute seeing them bond. Cope is such a standoffish asshole most of the time. It’s funny to see him making friends with such a sweet girl. God help the woman that willingly takes on his moody ass.
Lyla thankfully fell asleep almost the second we sat down for the flight and hasn’t moved since, but she’s been squirming in her seat for a few minutes, and her face is still really pale and sweaty.
Suddenly, she shoots straight up in her seat, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh no,” her muffled words are barely out before the tiny thing is up and stumbling down the aisle to the bathroom at the back of the plane.
Copeland lifts bloodshot eyes my way and widens them slightly, waving a hand in my direction. My brows furrow, and he scoffs. “Go take care of her, you fucking moron. You want to prove yourself to her? Hold her hair back and wipe her face or something. Just be there so she’s not alone.”
I offer him a chin lift, but before moving to go take care of my girl, I hand him a barf bag and order a ginger ale from a passing flight attendant. My parental instincts kick in when I see how bad he still looks.
Sometimes I forget that before his ex Carly stomped on his heart, my best friend was one of the sappiest motherfuckers I’d ever met. Copeland Hawthorne is a grump with a short fuse, but once you make it past that prickly exterior, he’s as loyal as they come.
Coming to a stop in front of the pocket door, I knock gently. Lyla’s hoarse voice calls out occupied, but the door isn’t locked, so I slip in behind her. The bathroom is just barely bigger than one on a commercial flight, so it’s a tight squeeze with her curled up on the floor and me towering over her.
She barely lifts her head off the balled-up sweater she’s resting on to look at me, immediately letting out a long groan. “Ugh, please go away. You don’t need to see any more of me being sick.”
Ignoring her grumbles of irritation, I carefully step over her shaking form to run some paper towels under the tap, wringing them out so they don’t get her shirt too wet.
One glance around the bathroom nearly has me huffing in frustration at the small space. I want to take care of her without literally being on top of her and making her feel worse.
I take a chance and get down on one knee behind her, doing my best to ignore the shiver wracking her body when I sweep her long hair up and off the back of her neck. There’s a ponytail holder on her thin wrist, so I gently take it off and pull her long hair up into some semblance of a bun on top of her head before laying the wet towels on her neck and forehead to cool her down.
Lyla moans on the floor beneath me, cracking her tired, bloodshot eyes open just enough so I can see the tears that want to spill over.
“Even if we aren’t together, I still care about you, Ly. You could be nothing more to me than Crew’s nanny, and I would still worry. You’re important to him, which means you’re important to me. No matter what. But angel? You are and always will be more to me.”
I watch her resolve crumble with quiet satisfaction, hoping she won’t fight me again while she’s feeling so bad. “Do you want to stay in here or try to go back to our seats, angel? ”
“I just want the world to stop spinning, Daddy.”
My whole body tenses at her garbled words because what the fuck ? Why would she call me that? More importantly, why the hell did it turn me on? I’ve had plenty of people call me Daddy Aidan since Crew was born, but I’ve never reacted like this.
One glance down at myself shows me I’m not imagining things. I’m hard as a rock at the worst possible time because Lyla called me Daddy .
She’s obviously half delusional and probably won’t remember saying it, but I sure as fuck won’t be forgetting anytime soon. Definitely a topic to broach later, preferably not when she’s just spent fourteen hours vomiting and after she gives up on the whole ‘I can’t be with you right now’ nonsense.
Up until she got sick, Lyla had been doing her best to put distance between us, and even though I promised things wouldn’t be weird if she called it off, they’ve been a little weird. How can they not be when her breathy moans have been playing on a constant loop in my mind since the first one I heard fall from those pretty pink lips? Or when every time I look at my son’s nanny, I see her bent over with that perfect pussy in the air, begging me to fuck her.
Shaking off the lustful memories of our night together, I smooth back a few errant strands of hair that escaped her messy bun. She’s basically asleep on the floor now, so I scoop her up, being extra careful not to jostle her too much. I don’t think I’m all that successful because she whimpers, a single tear escaping and tearing my heart wide open.
“I’m so sorry, angel. I’m going to bring you back to our seats and if you need to throw up again you just tell me, okay? Trust me to take care of you.”
Her lack of response makes my throat tighten with anxiety, and as soon as I get her buckled in, I’m using the plane’s wifi to message our group chat for advice.
Me
Do you think doc would take a look at Ly if I bring her in when we get home?
Future Mrs. Gray
It would have to be unofficial, but yeah probably. Everything okay?
Wren’s Stalker
Why would she need to see Doc? You haven’t been sleeping together long enough to knock her up… right?
Me
She’s still really sick, and I’m worried she’s dehydrated. I just had to pick her up off the bathroom floor and carry her back to our seats
And no, I didn’t get her pregnant, you dick.
Future Mrs. Gray
Oh my god, do you need help? I can swap seats with Cope for the rest of the flight.
And ignore Rhodes, he’s got baby fever and it needs to go to hell.
Me
She’s sleeping now, and Cope has actually been really helpful… you know, when he’s not throwing up too
Wren’s Stalker
But Starling, imagine how cute a mini us would be!
Future Mrs. Gray
Absolutely not, Rhodes Colter. The only reason you want a baby is because you saw Coach’s granddaughter trying to eat her own foot and thought it was cute. Finn ate your favorite socks last week and your exact words were “thank god we aren’t adding a human to this mad house.”
Me
I love y’all, and I’m with Rho on team baby, but this wasn’t helpful
Future Mrs. Gray
Sorry, Aid. I’ll text doc and have him meet us at your house with an IV kit. And if you want a baby so damn bad, go have one of your own. Crew is cute as hell and I bet he’d love a little brother or sister.
Me
Lol thanks, darlin’. But better make it two IV’s, Cope still isn’t doing too hot either.
Relief loosens the vice grip on my throat enough that I can finally take a deep breath, and I studiously ignore the thought of knocking Lyla up with my baby. That’s just a little too much insanity for this early in the morning.
Turning slightly, I bury my nose in Ly’s hair where her head rests on my shoulder. I don’t know how it’s possible after all the sweating and lying on multiple different bathroom floors, but she still smells like sweet cherries and vanilla .
Her scent haunts my dreams almost as much as her moans do.
The last half hour of our flight is easy, and nobody gets sick again, which feels like a win after the last twenty-four hours. The minute we’re off the plane, I’m herding Lyla and Cope to my truck, ignoring his protests in favor of getting an IV in him back at the house.
I open the back door for Cope, and he grumbles as I help him get settled, but his threats don’t hold much water when he passes out the second he sprawls out across the seats.
Lyla, my sweet, sick little angel, is propped up against the passenger side door, looking like death warmed over. So I scoop her up and deposit her gently into the passenger seat with a plastic bag, just in case she gets sick again.
Making my way around to the front of the truck, I turn it on to get the air going and then turn to inspect Ly and make sure she’s still okay. I almost chuckle when I find her asleep with her mouth hanging open.
Quiet puffs of air are the only thing letting me know she is, in fact, still breathing. I place a gentle kiss on her sticky forehead and shift into drive, getting us one step closer to home.
“Aidan, I’m telling you, I feel fine! That IV and a full night’s sleep did wonders, and I want to make breakfast.”
After forcing fluids into both her and Copeland all day yesterday and sending him home late last night, Lyla woke up at our normal time this morning and forewent her usual cup of coffee for a mint tea. She joined me on the swing in spite of my insistence that she go back to bed.
Rhodes’s parents were kind enough to keep Crew again last night so we could get some rest after not sleeping the night before, and from their constant updates, it sounds like he had the time of his life. They should be bringing him home in a couple hours, and I can’t wait. As much as my night with Lyla was worth being away, I’m missing my boy something fierce.
Stroking a gentle hand down her messy hair, I sigh heavily. “Lyla, you were so dehydrated you were delirious, and we almost had to take you to the hospital. If the doc hadn’t been able to get the IV in you when he did, there could have been a serious problem.”
I know I’m being stubborn, but fuck , seeing her so sick twisted something inside of me, and I haven’t been right since. I’ve seen the guys, Wren, and even Crew sick plenty of times, but never so sick that they couldn’t open their eyes or hold their own heads up. I had to pull over for her to throw up five times on the way home, and each time, she seemed a little weaker and a little more out of it.
I was so tense by the time the team doctor got here that I developed a raging headache I’m still struggling with today. The concern in his eyes as he examined Lyla did exactly nothing to ease my worry for her, and that moment solidified what I already knew. I’m completely gone for this girl.
“But he did , and I feel much better today. I swear, I wouldn’t lie to you after seeing how worried you were when I woke up yesterday. I even skipped coffee to give my body a chance to rehydrate properly. And I haven’t gone a day without coffee in like… eight years . There’s nobody else I would give up coffee for just to ease their worry, Aid.”
Even though it’s dumb, my chest swells with pride, knowing she cares about my opinion so much that she’s willingly giving up her beloved caffeine. Even if it's just for one morning, that still means more to me than she’ll ever know.
“And I appreciate you making such a hefty sacrifice to alleviate my worry, Ly, but I can’t just turn it off. Not after seeing you completely out of it on the floor of a cramped airplane bathroom.”
She brings her hands up to cover her flushed cheeks, and I instantly feel like a dick. I didn’t mean to embarrass her or make her feel bad. I just want to make sure she’s taking this seriously.
“Aidan, I’m sorry you had to see that, and I’m even more sorry you had to take care of me in that condition after literally one date, but it’s not like it was some life-threatening illness. It was food poisoning . And yeah, it got kind of bad, but I’m almost back to normal today, and I would love to forget it ever happened.”
I start to get frustrated because she’s just not listening, but I shove it down. “Lyla, you weren’t awake when the doctor was examining you, and I don’t think you realize just how bad off you actually were. Do you remember me carrying you to and from the truck to puke up stomach acid on the way home? Do you remember your legs going out from under you on our way to the front door after you insisted you could walk?”
Her eyes widen with each new thing I list and it’s clear she doesn’t remember a single one of them. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m being an overbearing prick, but Jesus Christ, Lyla. You weren’t okay, and seeing you like that scared the hell out of me! I’ve had enough people die on me. I really don’t need to add another person to the list because you insist on not taking care of yourself!”
My chest is heaving by the time I finish, and the room is eerily silent. Lyla’s eyes are wide, and her pale lips are parted in shock, but I can’t bring myself to stick around and hear whatever she has to say. Panic is turning my blood to ice, and I need to get out before I lose it.
“I’m going to go for a run in the basement. If Dom and Kaci show up early, let me know.”
I know I’m being rude, but I can’t seem to find my rational thoughts at the moment. Too many things about this situation remind me of Mia and even of my father, and it’s messing with my head to the point where I know I need to get away from Lyla, or I’ll say something I shouldn’t.
I don’t even bother changing out of my shorts and muscle tee before making my way down to the home gym I had built in the basement, knowing this is pretty much what I work out in anyway.
An incessant itch under my skin drives me to run, push, and forget the memories clawing at the locked metal box in my brain where I keep them for my own sanity.
Skipping my typical warmup, I hop on the treadmill and start at a dead sprint, knowing the pain and exhaustion it will bring are my only chance of pushing the demons back right now. Sweat pours down my forehead after only ten minutes, and I regret not stopping to put on my headband.
When my eyes start to sting from the sweat, I huff and pull the safety cord to bring the treadmill to a stop before using one hand to grip the back of my shirt and rip it over my head. A quiet gasp catches my attention as I’m mopping my face with the shirt, and I look up to see Lyla’s heated gaze staring back at me through the wall-to-wall mirrors.
Without taking my eyes off hers, I drag the sweaty tee down my chest with a smirk, letting my knuckles graze my abs on the way down. I work hard for the body I have, and if my girl wants to admire me, I’ll do whatever I have to to encourage it. Especially if it helps keep the memories at bay.
“See something you like, angel?”
Her cheeks flame immediately, making my smirk stretch into a full-blown smile. Now that most of my earlier frustration has drained away, I owe her an apology. Just as I go to speak, however, she surprises me.
“I’m sorry for not being more appreciative of everything you did to take care of me, Aidan. Growing up, any illness was downplayed or brushed under the rug, so I’m not used to anyone caring enough to be upset when I don’t take good enough care of myself.”
So many things about the last few weeks start to make sense when she tells me that, and though it’s a relief to learn more about her, it pisses me off that she had so little support growing up. What kind of parent doesn’t take care of their sick child?
Moving slowly, I approach her with my arms open, leaving the choice up to her if she wants to hug me or not.
I can’t contain my sigh of relief when she willingly walks into my arms and wraps hers around my back. With her nose buried in my chest, I can smell her perfume, and it calms me further.
“You never have to apologize to me, angel. I was lucky and had my mom who constantly fussed over my brother and me when we were sick, but I was ignored in pretty much every other aspect of my life unless I was playing ball. I know what it’s like to be swept aside, and I promise you’ll never feel that with me. Whether we’re friends or more.”
My next words are a risk, but I never claimed to be smart.
Leaning down close so my lips meet her ear, I put myself out there and pray this doesn’t backfire. “And if you want to take a break and have somebody take care of you for a change? Well, let’s just say I’m happy to be Crew’s dad and your Daddy .”