“Yeah,” I told him, chugging down half the water before taking the plate from his hand and digging in without another word.
I caught Aiden watching me when I took the time to look at him, but I was so busy inhaling the food, I didn’t do it much. About three-fourths of the way through my plate, I finally wiped at my chin with the back of my hand and shot him a grateful smile. “Thank you so much for making that for me.”
“Uh-huh.” He pointed at the corner of his mouth. “You have rice right there.”
Wiping at the spot he was pointing out, I asked, “How long was I asleep?”
“About three hours.”
Three hours? Shit, I didn’t think I’d slept that long.
“Van.” Aiden’s face swam into my groggy vision. “What were you going to tell me before your run?”
Aww shit. Shit, shit, shit. Had I completely forgotten about it? No. I’d thought about what I’d told him at least a thousand times in the four hours it took me to run. I’d wanted to kick myself in the ass for saying anything at least half the time. The other half of the time, when I was reminding myself I was amazing and I was running a marathon so I could tackle the world and Iron Man competitions, I felt like I’d done the right thing.
With a plate of food he’d cooked for me on my lap and a bottle of coconut water in between his massive thighs and an empty glass on my nightstand, I was going to tell Aiden I loved him.
I loved him. I loved him so much I would do just about anything for him. I loved him enough to risk spending the next four and a half years of my life with a man who would more than likely divorce me and move on with his career.
Because fuck it, what was life if you didn’t live it and make the most out of it? What was life without loving someone who cared about you a lot more than he cared about anyone else? That was my truth. Aiden had hugged me and told me he was proud of me in front of reporters and strangers alike, when he held on to his privacy with both hands.
And it hadn’t been fake.
I could do this.
I would.
Because I would rather tell him than spend the rest of my life wondering about what would have happened if I told him he meant the world to me. That he was the first new person in my life I completely trusted. That I could settle for being number two in his life until he had more time.
So I said it, even though my fingers were gripping the plate so hard I was worried it would break. I made myself look him in the eye as I did it. “I was going to tell you… I was going to tell you that I love you. I know you said you don’t want a relationship, and I know things between us are super complicated—”
The plate in my hands was taken away.
“—but I love you. I’m sorry I’m not sorry. I didn’t want to be—”
“Vanessa.”
“I don’t want to be someone’s number two or number three priority because sometimes I like to be greedy—”
“Van.”
“—but I can’t help how I feel. I’ve tried to stop, I swear. But I couldn’t.”
Then it came. “Shut up.”
I closed my mouth and frowned at the bearded face frowning down at me.
“Did you listen to anything I told you when you finished your run? I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much you can’t begin to comprehend how much. I didn’t want to leave you. I kept trying to talk myself out of going. Why do you think I never brought it up?”
Now that had me thinking. “But… you didn’t say anything when you left. You took Leo.”
“You didn’t ask me to stay.” He squeezed my hands. “I took Leo because I couldn’t take you. I assumed you wanted to stay with Diana and do your marathon because you didn’t feel the same. I was going to ask you to come with me.”
“You were?”
That handsome, wonderful face leaned closer to mine. “How do you not know that you mean the world to me? I haven’t made it clear enough?”
“I don’t know,” I stuttered. “Do you love me?”
His gaze was so intent the entire world seemed to stop. “You tell me. I never stop thinking about you. I worry about you all the time. Every beautiful thing I see reminds me of you. I can’t finish my practices in Colorado without wishing you were around,” he said in a steady tone. “You tell me what I feel.”
With a burst of strength I didn’t think I had in me, I made myself get up to my knees and leaned over to press my mouth against his.
And I wasn’t surprised when Aiden instantly wrapped an arm around my lower back and pulled me into him, his mouth tilting to the side and opening. With a swipe of his tongue across my bottom lip, I opened my mouth and let it brush against mine, slow and hesitant, exploratory.
Aiden kissed me like… good lord, like we were having slow, intense sex. At least the kind of slow, intense sex I’d seen in porns before.
Our chests were sealed against each other’s, his arms were around me and my hands were in his hair, and we just kissed. We kissed and we kissed and we kissed the shit out of each other like we did that day in his room before everything.
It could have lasted for five minutes or it could have been for twenty, but when he finally pulled his mouth away, I let out a cry right onto his mouth.
Aiden’s sigh wafted over my chin as he planted that sexy, full mouth on one side of my jaw and then the other, his palms cradling the sides of my ribs possessively. “Your door is open and Zac is here,” he said into my skin.
“Damn it,” I whispered.
He chuckled. “Later. I promise.”
“You do?”
He hummed and kissed my cheek. “Finish eating.”
* * *
I woke up on my side hours later. So many hours later it took me a second to remember where I was. Why I was where I was—Aiden’s bed. After I ate another small meal, I’d gone to his room and laid down, asking if Leo was fine with Leslie, who had stayed on babysitting duty with the precious blond prince in Colorado. I remembered getting really tired and beginning to doze off.
Apparently, he hadn’t kicked me out of his bed and had instead tucked me in, and at some point in the night—or maybe he’d done it from the beginning—Aiden had come up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist.
Which was exactly where and how I found myself in that moment.
I was awake, on my side with Aiden directly behind me, grinding his erection into my bottom as his hand snuck between my legs; those fingers were touching me low. Low. Right where my entire body centered. Right where I could tell how wet and anxious I was after so long.
How long has this been going on? I asked myself before I accepted that it didn’t matter.
I was squirming, moving my hips at the sensation behind me and in front of me. The long pipe under his clothes pressed hot against my butt; strong fingertips rubbed over the thin cotton of my panties and pajama pants. That big chest I admired on a daily basis was aligned with my back, molded to it.
He rolled his lower body and I rolled against him. The feel of him big and hard behind me was seriously the most amazing thing in the world. His mouth latched onto the nape of my neck, kissing, then biting where it met my shoulder. I panted. Aiden rubbed me lightly where I wanted him the most and I choked on the sensation, reaching behind me blindly to sneak my hand between our bodies. I cupped him, or as much of him as I could, and stroked up and down over that thick ridge that seemed to go on forever from the base.
“Aiden, please,” I whispered when his fingers circled over the too-damp material covering the seam between my thighs.
He answered by nipping my earlobe before sucking it between his lips.