For a moment, I thought about dragging out one of the dining room chairs, but it would just seem weird. And I really didn’t want to walk any more than I needed to.
I mean, it wasn’t like this was the first time I’d sat on someone’s leg. Friends did that kind of stuff. Married people snuggled, at least that’s what I reasoned with myself. Not because I wanted to sit on his lap or anything. Nope.
I dodged around the only set of long legs in my way and stopped right by Aiden’s knees, watching as he spread them. I let myself glance at his face, shadowed by the fire, and took a deep breath. It was his idea, wasn’t it? Turning my body so my back was to him, I slowly lowered myself onto the middle of his thigh, forever conscience that I wasn’t exactly ninety-eight pounds heavy. My butt hit the middle of that intensely muscular leg, and just as I started to get comfortable so my back was straight, he lifted his foot. With one big palm to the side of my waist, he pulled me in so that I slid all the way up to where his hip met his leg, off to one side of the cradle of his groin. My entire side pressed into his chest.
My face didn’t go hot or anything, but my pulse went nuts in reaction as I took in our positions. I appreciated the arm that happened to sling low across my back, his palm resting on my hip, cupping it over the flannel material of my pajamas. His other hand was busy, the thumb wrapped around the inside of my knee while the four other fingers framed the outer side of it.
My entire body lit up, aware of the sweet smell to Aiden. How big the muscles under my bottom were. How warm and well developed the muscles searing into my arm and chest were. And how close his face was to mine.
He was looking at me, that subtle side inspection that I could feel into the deepest part of my belly. The corner of his mouth was tilted just slightly up in what was half a smirk and half a smile, all Aiden.
I smiled at him nervously and maybe a little shyly as I slowly pulled my arm up from its space between our bodies and slipped it around those wide shoulders I noticed at least five times a day every day.
“Good?” he whispered, the arm warming my lower back flexing.
“Yes. Am I crushing you?” I whispered.
“You and your questions.” He seemed to peer at me closely. “You’re not feeling good?”
Was it that noticeable? “No,” I said loud enough for only him to hear. “I feel sick and everything hurts.”
“How many miles did you run?”
“Only seven.”
He murmured something under his breath, his body stirring under mine. “You should elevate your legs. Is your knee bothering you?”
“Everything is bothering me,” I whined, and I didn’t even feel bad about it.
A low, soft snicker puffed against my ear and that big hand shifted over my knee. Before I could react, Aiden moved me so I was sitting across him. One of his hands was on one thigh and the other landed on my shin.
He cupped my calf with that big hand and began to knead.
Seriously, a tingle shot up the back of my thigh and lower back. There was no way to stop the sound of pleasure and pain that came out of me. “Oh my god,” I muttered under my breath, sounding more like a pant.
A small chuckle nudged at the side of my cheek as he massaged my calf, then worked his way up to my quadriceps. Of course his hands were strong; I seriously felt my leg go numb with how good and bad it felt at the same time.
“I should tell you that you don’t have to do that.” I had to suppress another gurgle when he hit a tender spot high on my calf. “I’m not. That feels amazing. Thank you.”
An almost indecipherable grunt came out of Aiden’s throat, but I was way too gone to pay attention. The arm around my back tightened, clutching me closer. His fingers worked slow and steady, from the muscles right above my ankle to even higher, so high if I was any less tired than I was, I would have realized it was too close to the seam of my underwear.
The soft lull of conversation from Aiden’s friends went in one ear and out the other, and I only caught brief words here and there. Aiden didn’t talk much as we sat there around the chiminea and he rubbed one of my legs and then the other as best as he could, which was the same way he did everything. The best. I couldn’t help but focus more on his steady breaths and the pressure of his hands than what the guys were actually talking about.
That was the strange part. I usually couldn’t sit somewhere doing nothing without getting bored, but I found myself doing just that minus the bored part. With a big, warm body surrounding me, and a small fire going strong feet away, I just let myself relax.
And I kept relaxing as I listened to his friends argue about some football player, I thought. The occasional rumble of Aiden piping in with his low voice so close to my ear kept me company. I didn’t even notice when my head landed on his chest, or when my forehead hit the side of his throat.
His palm slid to the meatiest side of my thigh, four fingers on my hamstrings, one finger on the top. His other forearm draped over both of my knees. I definitely didn’t notice when I put my hand on his stomach, much less when I snuck it under the Henley he had on and palmed the square-shaped muscles covered by soft, hair-freckled skin under my fingers.
I was barely aware of Aiden shifting his grip, after who knew how long, to practically cradle me. I was dozing, more asleep than awake. More comfortable than I should have been in a man’s arms. A man who I was in love with, but didn’t love me back, and more than likely never would. His heart already belonged somewhere else.
I was only half aware when, at some point later, Aiden got to his feet with me in his arms and said in a voice quiet enough so that it wouldn’t wake me, “I’m putting her to bed.”
And Drew asked, “You coming back?”
With Aiden answering, “No. I’m tired. You want to give me the little guy?”
“Nah. I’ll keep him tonight. I promise I won’t crush him.”
I was yawning, fighting the sleep that had pulled me and my bones under, wanting but not really wanting to open my eyes and walk to his bedroom on my own two feet. When he swung me up higher as he headed into the house, I yawned again, nosing the side of his neck with my fingers along his collarbone, absently feeling how smooth the skin there was.
“I got you,” he whispered in that quiet, grumbling voice.
Who was I to tell him no?
I fell back asleep. Unaware of him laying me on the bed and taking my slippers and socks off.
And I definitely missed the rough way he pressed his mouth against my temple before he turned off the light, plugged in a nightlight I had no idea he’d bought, and got undressed himself.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Why are you staring at me?”
Could I have tried to play off the fact that I’d been lying in bed with my head propped up on my palm, staring at him? Absolutely not. What the hell else could I have been looking at? I’d been doing it for so long that, knowing Aiden, he’d waited to make sure I was doing what he thought I was doing.
Which I had been.
I’d woken up maybe ten minutes before and laid there, appreciating how cozy it was under the heavy covers and on the perfectly comfortable mattress. But when I finally forced myself to open my eyes, the first thing I saw was the big guy. Aiden was on his side, his hand pillowing his head. That normally harsh face was… well, it was still pretty rough. It wasn’t soft and dreamy; he honestly looked like he was thinking about bad plays in his sleep. His mouth was slightly open with the softest, even breathing coming out of it. With the covers pulled up to his chin, he looked too damn cute.
I hated it.
Why? Why him?
Of all the people in the world I could have chosen to think the world of, it had to be this one. The one who didn’t want a real relationship because he didn’t want to put time into it. The guy who only loved one thing in his life and everything else came trailing after it.
Then again…