Fuck me, what has this girl done?
“Uh… is this?” Pulling the contents out, she shoves the bread against her nose, and squeals. “Oh, my god, it is! An authentic New York City bagel.”
“Strawberry, even.”
She tears into it, tossing the bag onto the floor, and moans around the bite. “God, it’s as good as I remember. How did you—”
A door slamming downstairs cuts her sentence off, and her entire body locks up tight. The bagel falls into her lap, and she scrambles to pull the sheet up over her breasts, fear flooding her eyes.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” she whispers, a tremor racking her body, gaze glued to the door.
My nostrils flare, irritated that I still don’t know what makes her react so viscerally to potential danger, but I push it down.
Maybe not yet, but she will tell me.
Sliding from the bed, I tug on a pair of flannel pajama pants and tell her to stay put. When I cross the room and yank open the bedroom door, the breath whooshes from my lungs, shock jumping to my throat.
Standing on the other side of the threshold is a tall, tattooed man who looks an awful lot like the girl behind me.
Except a thousand times angrier.
42
“Jesus Christ, Boyd, what the hell are you doing here?”
My brother crosses his arms in the doorway, staring at Aiden like he’s a convicted criminal.
As I wrap the comforter more firmly around my body, I wince at my brain’s choice of words.
Not convicted, anyway.
“I was told to stop sulking and get my sorry ass to Colorado, because my baby sister would be all alone in the cabin I’ve been paying for the last three years.” He smooths a hand down the front of his coat, toying with the frayed ends of the scarf around his neck.
Still glaring at Aiden.
“Can’t you knock?” I mutter, hastily getting out of the bed and trying to locate something to put on. I spot a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top on the chair across the room and use the comforter to shield myself as I pull them on. “Or send a text, like a normal person?”
“I texted three times. Called four. You didn’t answer, so I took it upon myself to come in and make sure you hadn’t been strung up by your toes and left for the bears.”
Horror washes over me at the image. “Do people really do that to others?”
Boyd’s jaw clenches. “I’m tempted.”
Clearing his throat, Aiden scratches his neck and moves backward, putting a wide berth between him and my brother.
An awkward silence settles over us as we stand in a triangle shape in the room, no one willing to make the first move or speak before the other.
“Where the hell are all your Christmas decorations?” comes a soft voice from the hall, and relief pours through me at the sound. Fiona appears, stuffing her face under my brother’s arm as she peers into the room, frowning at me. “This is completely unacceptable, Riley. You don’t even have a tree, and you knew—”
Her brown eyes flicker to the side and widen exponentially as she notices Aiden.
“Oh, hello.” She grins, shoving Boyd aside so she can come into the room and make her way over to introduce herself. “I’m Fiona—”
Boyd’s hand whips out, gripping the end of her ponytail; she squeaks as he tugs her back into him, securing her in place with his arm around her neck.
She rolls her eyes, hooking her fingers on his forearm. It looks restrictive, but the way she leans into it is all the proof you need to know she’s letting him hold her there. Almost like he anchors her, in some weird way.
“I’m Fiona, and the Neanderthal behind me is Boyd. No, he doesn’t have manners, so don’t even ask.”
Aiden shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Nice to meet you.”
“You must be Caleb?” Her smile is too bright for the situation.
Kill me.
Boyd’s gaze travels over Aiden’s chest, cataloging every single tattoo. His eyes narrow, jaw flexing, and his eyes cut to mine. “No,” he says, answering her while staring at me. “This is Aiden, isn’t it?”
“Aiden?” Fiona’s mouth drops open, forming a perfect o-shape. “The…”
“Entire reason she had to go into hiding?”
“Well, not the entire reason.”
Again, no one says anything for several beats. My pulse thrums heavy in my veins, loud between my ears, and I put a hand on the mattress for support.
“Look,” Aiden finally says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I know this might not look great, but I can promise you I don’t mean any harm.”
Pursing his lips, Boyd slowly releases Fiona and reaches into his coat, producing a sleek handgun. Flipping the safety, he aims the barrel at Aiden, his index finger brushing the trigger.
“Boyd.” I grit my teeth, my hands balling into fists. Humiliation worms its way through me, setting my face on fire.
“Go ahead.” Aiden shrugs, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. “If that’s what you need to do to prove yourself.”
Boyd bristles. He glances at me, then back at Aiden for a long moment. I don’t know what he sees, but whatever it is makes him clear his throat and lower the gun, turning to his girlfriend.
The complete adoration in his gaze for her is almost difficult to look at; he reaches out, presses a kiss to her forehead, and then abruptly leaves the room.
“Well.” Fiona wiggles her fingers in the pockets of her white Prada coat and raises her eyebrows. “Now it feels like Christmas.”
The intruding couple takes up residence in the guest bedroom down the hall from mine, and for two whole days, I don’t see my brother. Fiona tries to fill the void with endless stories about the psychology clinic she just started at, and by force-feeding me chocolate shakes, but not a second ticks by where I’m unaware that my brother is upstairs ignoring me.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t nice to have someone other than me in the house, acknowledging the holiday so that I don’t have to. For a while, I try to convince myself that it’s enough, but it doesn’t work.
Somehow, this is worse than him disregarding me from across the country. At least then, I could pretend life was keeping him busy, and it wasn’t an active effort on his part to pretend I didn’t exist.
Aiden doesn’t come back over, for obvious reasons, and I start to despise how accustomed I’ve gotten to sleeping with him. How easy it’s been to suppress nightmares with him at my side.
In truth, everything seems easier when I’m around him. Navigating life in general, and while I know it shouldn’t, especially given the way he treated me not long ago, I don’t think I can stop wanting him.
It’s a bone-deep ache. One soul threaded through the other, their fabric becoming so deeply intertwined that no amount of untangling can separate them.
I tiptoe down the stairs, shrug into my coat and boots, and head for the front door, my soul desperate to be near his.
Just as I’m turning the doorknob, the floorboards creak beneath someone’s weight, and I know who it is even before he speaks.
“I don’t remember you being this sneaky when you lived back home.”
Slumping against the door, I turn my head to the side. Boyd stands in the living room, arms crossed tight over his chest. He’s wearing a red plaid pajama set that Fiona bought him for Christmas, and his hair sticks up in odd places, like he’s been yanking at it for days.