I barely managed to raise the bag of popcorn to face level when I lost it, peeking at him when I wasn’t blinking away tears.
The fact that Aiden’s ears turned red as he watched me crack up, said he knew what I was dying over. “Don’t say a word,” he gritted.
“Did she grab a handful?” I choked out.
The look he gave me was a mix of ‘you’re an idiot’ and ‘fuck off,’ which only made me laugh harder.
He’d gotten molested. By a fan. Right in front of me.
That split second look of surprise on his face when he got fondled would probably stay with me for the rest of my life.
“Shut up, Vanessa.”
I was dying. He usually just ignored me, but this was so much better. “I’m not saying anything!” I wheezed from behind the bag of popcorn.
Aiden narrowed his eyes, waiting patiently. “Are you done?” he asked after a few more seconds of me cracking up.
I had to wipe at the tears in my eyes with the back of my hand, shaking my head. “I—I—”
He gestured me toward the doors to the theater. “Get inside before they close the doors.” His tone was exasperated and maybe even a little embarrassed. Maybe. Why would getting his butt cheek squeezed rile him up?
I had to swallow raggedly as I wiped at my face one more time, picturing that epic look of shock once more. I lost it again. “Does that kind of thing happen often?”
“No. Would you stop laughing?”
* * *
It was almost two in the morning by the time we made it back to the hotel. I felt happier than I had in forever. The show had been amazing, and dinner at the restaurant in the same hotel as Cirque du Lune after the show had been great. The host had recognized Aiden and gave us the best and most secluded table so Aiden could be left in peace. It had seriously been nice, even if Aiden hadn’t talked much while we ate. I didn’t go out often, but deciding to explore instead of staying in to work that night seemed like one of the best ideas I’d had in forever.
So when we got inside the living area to the suite and started going in opposite directions toward our rooms, I stopped at the doorway to mine and turned to look at the man I’d signed papers with hours ago. He was visibly tired, after all, he usually went to bed by nine at the latest, and he looked beyond exhausted.
Why wouldn’t he though? He’d played a preseason game twelve hours ago and only managed to nap twice since then. Damn it. This sense of unwanted affection seeped its way into the place between my breasts.
“Thank you so much for staying up and coming with me,” I said, squeezing my hands at my sides as I smiled at him. “I had a really good time.”
Aiden nodded, one corner of his mouth moved a millimeter, but it was a millimeter that could have moved a mountain. “Me too.”
I was too soft to be excited by that sliver of a smile. “Good night.”
“Night.”
It wasn’t until after I showered and had snuggled under the covers that I finally let myself sink into reality. I was a married woman.
Chapter Eleven
“Where are you going?”
With one hand on the staircase handrail, I finished thrusting my heel into my tennis shoe and glanced up at the man standing in front of me with a wary look on his lightly bearded face. “I’m going for a run. Why?”
The big guy glanced down at the overpriced accessory on his wrist, an expensive workout watch I know he’d gotten for free because I’d been the one to open the box when he got it. “It’s five o’clock,” he said, as if I didn’t know how to read time.
I did, and I’d learned how to a long, long time ago.
He’d gotten home about an hour ago while I was upstairs going over the fifth draft of a paperback cover for an author I’d decided never to work with again. The guy was driving me nuts, changing his mind from one revision to the next, and if it wasn’t for my motto—never leave a client unhappy because they’ll tell everyone you suck—I would have told him to shove his money down his throat and find someone else.
Yeah, I was feeling on edge, and I knew I needed to get out of the house for a little while, even if it was already later than I normally would have liked to go for a run. So I’d been surprised when I first heard Aiden make his way from the kitchen into the foyer where I was trying to finish getting ready to leave.
We hadn’t seen each other much since we’d gotten back from Las Vegas a little over a week ago, but things had been fine. It was kind of weird how the trip had sort of relaxed me around him, and it seemed like the sentiment was mutual. Aiden had even started knocking on my doorframe when he walked by my room when he got home. He didn’t say much more than, “Hey,” loud enough to be heard over the music I liked to play while I worked, but it was something, I thought.
“I’m only doing five miles,” I let him know right then, grabbing my other shoe off the floor and balancing on one foot to slip it on like I had the other one. It was a lot harder than it should have been, mainly because I was too aware he was watching me, probably expecting me to fall.
“It’s going to get dark soon,” he said, as I struggled to get my heel into my tennis shoe.
“I’ll—damn it—I’ll be fine.” I started to fall over, flailing an arm out for balance, and instead, getting a big hand catching my elbow to keep me steady. I flashed him a sheepish look and let some of my weight lean on him as I finally got my heel in. “Thanks.” I took as step away. “Anyway, it shouldn’t take me more than a little over an hour. I’m still running a little slow, but I won’t be gone long.”
Aiden blinked those great, dark eyelashes at me before reaching up to scratch at his chin, those lean cheeks puffing just slightly. Resignation, that clear, clear emotion that seemed to melt its way down from his hairline and over that perpetual wrinkle between his eyebrows and the sides of his mouth, had me blinking.
“Give me a minute,” he sighed as he moved around me and jogged up the stairs, two at a time, the house shaking in response. Briefly, I feared for the life of the stairs. Then I realized what he was doing.
Was he…？
“You don’t have to come with me,” I shouted, taking a moment to absorb those perfect glutes and rock solid calves defying gravity as they made their way up the stairs. Why would he even want to come along, anyway? The memory of what he’d said in Las Vegas when I took off on my own suddenly came back to me. You aren’t the only one who takes their promises seriously.
“I’m not asking,” he yelled back just as he reached the clearing.
Torn between thinking it was nice and cute that he didn’t want me going out for a jog alone at dusk, I remembered how important it was for him—for big guys in his position in general—to keep their cardio to a minimum. They couldn’t afford to lose weight when they needed to keep their size, especially someone with a diet like Aiden’s, who had to consume more physical food than someone who ate meat to get an appropriate amount of calories and not go hungry. It was why Aiden worked out so hard during the day and made a severe effort to rest as much as he could during his off time.
Then I wondered, could he even run five miles?