Chapter Eighteen
Stretching out, I mourn the loss of Aiden.
He kept his promise until I was forced to renege.
Exhausted and sated, he took me to bed, where we lay wrapped in each other.
His slowly cooling spot on the mattress counts the minutes since he slunk out to shower.
I’d have been upset by his sneakiness if I hadn’t known it was only to let me sleep in for a change.
His sense of respect and hands-off approach are things that I love about him, something that separates him from Dax.
Where Dax commands and fights to control every scenario, Aiden observes, waits, reacts, and gives others permission to do the same.
The contrast between the two speaks volumes about the differences in their lives pre-Trevainne.
Dax and I are cut from the same cloth. Our pasts have left us with the need to micromanage everything and everyone around us, but Aiden’s laid-back approach brings a new way of being, one I’m happy to learn from.
My first lesson is giving myself permission to slow down by spending another ten minutes of peace in bed.
I grab Aiden’s pillow and slam it over my eyes, blocking out the light streaming into the apartment.
Though there are no windows on the mezzanine floor, all the light and sound creeps up and over the half wall.
The pillow doesn’t quite block it all out but for ten minutes, I can cope.
What I can’t cope with is knowing Dax remembered me and didn’t say anything.
I’ve been hinting at it since we met: The coleslaw on the sandwich, telling him we keep saving each other, calling him Dean instead of Dax, because I’ve only ever known him by the name he left me on those library cards before met in the Tower.
He said nothing.
And all his hang ups with not being good enough, is that really Vale guilt or is it the fate thing? Does he feel guilty because he thinks I belong with Tom? It’s ridiculous and yet something I can totally see him struggle with.
What am I supposed to do now? Aiden might have told me the truth, but do we tell Dax? Do I wait to see if he’ll say anything? Ugh. More secrets. More bullshit.
So much for ten more minutes of peace.
The whirring of the elevator rumbles through the apartment, silencing my thoughts.
There are no other occupied apartments in the building, so whoever it is, they’re here to see us.
Aiden ducks into the room, dropping the towel from his waist and grabbing his jeans.
He spots me watching from the bed and grins.
“Stay here for now. I’d like to talk to Dax first. Give him a heads up on us.”
“It’s definitely him, then?”
“No one else has the code to the door,” Aiden confirms.
“Okay. Will he be annoyed or…?”
“He’ll be fine. I just wanted to give him the courtesy of being the one to tell him.
You’ve probably already noticed his default mode is to stick his foot firmly in his mouth.
” My laughter is the only response Aiden needs.
“He’ll say something stupid before he gets his head on straight. It’s his way of handling shit.”
“That’s fine. After the other day, I’m not sure I have a clue what to say to him anyway.”
“Yeah, that’s another thing I’d like to talk with him about,” Aiden grumbles, and I sense a fight brewing. Still, I get the sense that this is more of a them conversation than a me conversation, so I’m happy to avoid it.
“Okay. Go do your thing. I might just spend the morning in bed. Coffee would be good when you come back up, though.”
“Demanding little tiger,” he grumbles good-naturedly as he drifts down the spiral stair to greet Dax, who sounds like he’s already warming the coffee machine.
For all the romantic novelty of a mezzanine bedroom, the gurgle of the machine is so loud it might as well be at the bottom of the bed. I drag the pillow back over my head to block out the worst of it, but even that doesn’t work. Nor does it stop their voices drifting up to me.
“How’s Sylvie?” Aiden asks first.
“She’s barely spoken. She gave the team five minutes and then had a complete meltdown. She’s not okay,” Dax admits.
“Did she say anything useful? Anything we can act on?”
“No, not yet.” The sound of a cup hitting the counter punctuates Dax’s frustration.
A quiet moment stretches then Aiden asks, “And the one you took in for questioning?”
Dax snorts. “He’s not speaking. Grins like he’s enjoying himself but hasn’t spoken a word.”
“Fucker.”
Another long moment stretches before Dax cuts through it. His voice is tentative. “Is Jules…” He trails off, unable to formulate the question.
“She’s fine. She took the situation in stride. Took you and your bullshit in her stride, too. Not that she should have to,” Aiden sharply rebukes.
“I didn’t mean…”
“You did,” Aiden snaps, calling Dax out on his bullshit.
“You lashed out and blamed Jules’s presence at the compound for Sylvie’s abduction, but Sylvie’s constant disappearing tricks put her in that vulnerable position.
This has been coming, with or without Jules.
Why else do you assign bodyguards to her?
And for the record, own your guilt instead of projecting it.
You think she doesn’t feel guilty already?
Do you think she doesn’t blame herself for all this bullshit? ” Aiden growls.
He clearly knows me too well because he’s right. But so am I. I’m the target. Sylvie went her whole life without incident until showed up.
“I know.” Dax sighs, resignation stamping his words in the room and in my ears. “You know how I am.”
“I do, which is why you always got a pass from me, but no more passes, Dean Maxwell Nagano. No more excuses. You’re going to do actual harm, and I won’t allow it. Grow up.”
That phrase lands hard before it triggers and detonates.
“Grow up? GROW UP?” Dax roars. “I had no fucking choice but to grow up. You weren’t the one raising a kid on the streets. I didn’t get the school, proms, girls, football, fucking three-meals-a-day life that you did.”
I sit up and pull myself to the end of the bed, trying to see them both. Will they come to blows? Do I need to break this up, or should I leave Aiden to take care of this like I said I would?
Aiden scoffs as though he’s heard this argument before.
“No. You didn’t, and it fucking sucks for you, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to carry your damage and wave it around like a fucking bludgeon for the rest of your life, with nothing but ‘I-had-it-hard’ as your excuse to keep hurting people.
” Aiden steps into Dax’s space as he speaks.
The two men are almost chest to chest and staring down their noses at each other, chins tipped up, ready for the fight.
“Fuck you!” Dax shoves Aiden backward.
“No, fuck that!” Aiden shoves back. “You know who else had it hard? That girl up there. She’s probably had it worse, and you don’t see her taking it out on you,” Aiden shouts back. Two sets of eyes stare up toward the mezzanine, catching me staring back. Aiden’s lips thin. Dax’s brows furrow.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” he accuses next. “Is that how it’s going to be from now on? I fuck up and you comfort her? Are you trying to show her that you’re the better choice? The better man?”
“This is exactly the shit I’m talking about! What happens between Jules and me has nothing to do with you or your behaviour. Just like what happened between you both had nothing to do with me. We’re grown adults…or at least some of us are. You clearly need more work.”
“Self-righteous prick.”
“Stop making this all about you and think of the damage. Think about how she must be feeling right now, listening to us acting like idiots. She’s relying on us to get this right.”
I withdraw from the edge and work further up the bed, steeling myself for what I’m about to hear. Wondering how I defend my decision to sleep with Aiden and hating that I feel I must. They suggested this three-way relationship, not me, but sure, I’m the problem. I’m the toy tugged between them.
“Fuck. Did she…? Is she okay? Happy?” I hear Dax ask, though his temper and volume are far more controlled. I hold still to listen. Happy? Am I happy? he asks? It’s my turn to scoff.
“I imagine she’s fucking seething right now, and desperate for a coffee.
Let me pour these and we can take this down a notch.
For the record, you don’t have to like what I say, but I hope you at least consider it.
I’d never say it if it weren’t for your own good.
” From Aiden’s tired tone, the fights gone out of him, and when Dax’s answer mirrors Aiden’s exhaustion, I can tell the argument is over.
“I know, I just…” A pulsing, incessant buzz rings out, interrupting them.
“Shit, I left Frank downstairs. Let me just get this.” Dax’s feet clack against the wooden floor and then the noise stops.
I can bet his pacing doesn’t though. He’s probably just wearing a groove in the rug by the sofa.
I hear Aiden tinkering with the machine and getting the coffee ready, and I consider ducking into the bathroom to avoid the embarrassment of facing either of them.
It’s not that I want to eavesdrop, but the acoustics in this place mean I have no choice. A fact I’m sure they’re both aware of.
Fuck it. Own it.
I fish Aiden’s t-shirt off the floor and slide into it before taking the stairs down to join them. Both men stop to stare as I descend.
“No panties, Tiger? Are you trying to shut us up? Because it’s working.” Aiden nods his head to Dax, who’s still staring at me with his phone to his ear…call forgotten.