Chapter 6 Aiden
Aiden
Does this girl ever stop talking?
She’s been babbling nonstop since I put her in the car, words tumbling out like she’s auditioning for an audiobook deal about her own kidnapping. Her voice echoes through the car cabin, and it’s obnoxiously delightful.
I have not met Claire before, and from what Eli has told me about her, his description seems a bit different.
That’s a mild way to put it. This girl is made up of rainbows and sunshine.
You can tell in her voice that she could find a silver lining in any situation.
Case in point, she seems to actually be enjoying this kidnapping.
Maybe because she’s on to me. Like she knows this is the “immersive role playing” they’ve planned before. I decide silence is my best bet. Ignoring her is easier than engaging. If I don’t engage, I won’t give anything away and may make it out of this kidnapping unscathed.
She has been talking a mile a minute, never pausing long enough for my brain to catch up. I swear I haven’t heard her take a breath. It’s actually impressive. I wonder if there’s a case study on how long females can talk without breaking to breathe. Like what would her lung capacity be.
Wow. Maybe Eli is right, I do need this vacation.
I grip the wheel tighter, focusing on the traffic that has built up in the last ten minutes. I can smell the faint burn of brakes from the traffic behind us, hear the muffled honks and murmurs of people walking Main Street.
Well, this isn’t the quick getaway I had hoped for. Literally anyone can look in at the liability I have sitting in the back seat with a sack over her head. My mind is busy trying to figure out how to be incognito when her next question jolts me from my thoughts.
“By the way, how’s your knife collection? You have one, right? Dark romance guys always have one. Or guns.”
My knife collection? This girl is certified insane.
Is this what drew Eli to her? He needed a little insanity in his life?
I chuckle to myself. I can imagine all kinds of misfits this girl can get into.
A wave of unexpected jealousy washes over me.
I can’t pinpoint if I’m jealous of the relationship or that he has her.
I don’t know what it is about her but there’s just something I can’t seem to put my finger on.
I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been on a real date and connected with someone.
Medical school doesn’t leave much room for that kind of thing.
And no one has ever caught my attention enough to make me want to put in the extra effort.
Most nights, I’m too tired to care. My brain is always half calculating, half worrying—exams, rotations, volunteering.
The late nights of studying and the early morning rotations all blur together into one long, exhausting string that has become my new normal.
I wish I had a special someone constant in my life.
Someone I can come home to and let all the bad from the day melt away with.
I want someone who’s there when I walk through the door—ready to listen to the gory details after a long shift in the ER, excited about the newborn I helped deliver, and willing to lend a quiet ear when I lose a patient to lung cancer.
Her over-the-top sigh pulls me back to our conversation.
She’s leaning back on the headrest, the picture of relaxation.
“This is kind of romantic. Just you, me, and the open road. Classic captor-captive setup. Ten out of ten. No notes.” The way she giggles at her own commentary has me shaking my head at how ridiculous this whole situation is.
I come to a stop at the intersection as a young family is making their way through the crosswalk.
A tall, skinny guy, likely my age, is trying to keep his toddler from touching the hood of my car as they pass by.
I hold my breath, hoping they don’t glance in too deep and notice the girl with the sack over her head.
Luckily for me, the dad is too distracted trying to keep his toddler in check to even look my way.
Desperate to appear nonchalant, I turn my body to the back seat, avoiding eye contact with any more pedestrians. If I don’t see them, they don’t see me. It worked with playground hide-and-seek, so it should work now.
There’s one flaw in my decision to avert gazes from passersby; I’m now looking directly at my captive.
I was too focused on executing the mission earlier that I didn’t really have time to see her—and now I can.
Her face is breathtaking, there’s no denying it.
But her body is just as alluring. I can’t help but notice every curve of her body.
Her oversized sweater slips off one shoulder, revealing the delicate line of her collarbone, and all I can think about is pressing soft kisses there.
The thought hits me hard and unwelcome. What the hell? This is Eli’s girlfriend.
I turn back around, avoiding dissecting into why I was checking out Eli’s girlfriend when I notice her fidgeting out of the corner of my eye, her body angling toward the window, like she’s trying to make a break for it.
I click the lock button to confirm she’s secured in the car.
I try to think of anything but the girl tied up in my back seat but like a moth to a flame, I can’t help but steal glances at her from my rearview mirror.
Even under that oversized sweater, I can tell she isn’t stick-thin like the fitness-obsessed girls at the gym, but soft in all the right ways—curves that hint she doesn’t shy away from dessert, and small, perky breasts that would fit perfectly in my hands.
What has gotten into me? Who has thoughts like that about their best friend’s girlfriend?
The cars are inching forward at snail’s pace.
At this rate, I’ll be late meeting Eli at the drop-off.
This girl continues to chatter about mafia boyfriends and Taylor Swift, oblivious to my internal turmoil.
The more she talks, the more I can’t seem to shake this uncontrollable feeling that draws me to her, like the irresistible pull of the tides.
As if she can feel me staring, she shifts her posture to angle toward the front.
“Are you glaring at me right now? I bet you are. You’ve got that whole silent, brooding aura.
I can feel it. Ooooh, are we doing the enemies-to-lovers thing? That’s the ultimate trope.”
I bite back a laugh at this girl’s bravado. Here she is getting kidnapped, and yet she’s acting like it’s a normal Saturday morning to be tied up in the back of someone’s car.
“I just want you to know, I’ve always been ready for this moment.
Like, spiritually prepared. Some girls dream about prom or their wedding day.
Me? I’ve fantasized about this exact scenario.
Tied up by a mystery man in the back of his car on the way to what I hope is a remote cabin—preferably one with Wi-Fi, so I can still download my Kindle Unlimited books.
Honestly, it’s a dream come true. Who doesn’t want to be locked up in a remote cabin with no one to bother them and unlimited amounts of reading time?
I mean, the sack could’ve been silk instead of burlap, but I’ll let that slide. ”
Hearing her say she prepared for this causes a wave of protectiveness to roll through me.
The thought of her being tied up in the back of another guy’s car has my grip on the wheel tightening, my knuckles turning bone white, and I exhale through my nose, sharp and uneven.
My heart is sprinting like I’m back in basic training.
She sighs happily, settling back against the seat.
“Don’t worry, I’ve read so many mafia romances. I know exactly how this works. You threaten me, I sass you, you brood, we kiss—boom. Instant bestsellers!”