“You said it; it’s a perfect plan.”
What had I done? “It’s not perfect. It’s nowhere near perfect,” I blabbered. “I don’t work for you anymore, and even if I did, I wouldn’t do it.” Seriously? He was thinking I would? I didn’t know him to be anything but practical, and this was just outrageous.
But he wasn’t listening. I could tell. He had his thinking face on. “Vanessa, you have to do it.”
Did he not understand that we weren’t friends? That he’d treated me in the opposite way you would treat someone you cared about?
“No. I don’t and I’m not.” If I met the right person, I wasn’t opposed to getting married some day in the future. I didn’t think about marriage often, but when I did, I kind of liked the idea of it. Diana’s parents had been a perfect example of a great relationship; of course, I’d want something like that in the future, if it was possible. Realistically, I knew I would be fine on my own too.
And I wasn’t going to scratch kids off my list of things I’d like if I also had the right person in my life. I faintly knew what I wanted in a partner, but more than anything, I knew what I didn’t want.
And Aiden, even on his best days, wasn’t that person. Or anywhere near it. Sure he was good-looking; anyone with eyes could see that. His body alone had women of all ages turning in their seats to get a good look because Aiden breathed virility, and what woman didn’t like a man who looked like he drank testosterone in gallons? He was a big drink of cool water, or so I’d been told. Okay, and he had money, but that wasn’t a hard requisite for a future boyfriend or husband. I could make my own money.
That was it though.
Except for the first three months of my employment, I had never once thought to myself that I had feelings for The Wall of Winnipeg. I was physically attracted to him, sure. But for me, and because of everything I’d seen my mom go through, jumping from one relationship to another my entire life, that wasn’t enough. My last boyfriend hadn’t been the best looking guy on the planet, but he’d been funny and nice, and we liked the same things. We got along. The only reason we’d split up was because he’d been offered a job in Seattle, and I hadn’t been convinced I was head over heels in love with him enough to move across the country, even further away from the few people in my life who mattered to me. I’d done it once already going to school in Tennessee.
Aiden didn’t fit any of the same qualifications my ex had. He wasn’t funny or nice, we didn’t like the same things, and based on the last two weeks of our work relationship, we didn’t get along.
And why the hell was I even thinking about reasons why this was a bad idea? It was a terrible one point blank. One I wasn’t going to go through with. No way, no how.
Aiden, on the other hand, wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t have to say a word for me to know he was ignoring everything coming out of my mouth.
“Aiden, listen to me”—for the second time in your life, I added in my head—“I’m sure Trevor can find you someone. Just ask.”
That comment had him snapping to attention. His thick, dark eyebrows straightened. “I’m not telling Trevor.”
I pushed at my glasses even though they were in place.
“Would you?” he questioned.
Yeah, that had me wincing. I wouldn’t trust Trevor to put something in the mail for me. “What about Rob?”
No response.
Huh. Touché. “Zac?”
Aiden simply shook his head in denial.
“Your friends?”
“I would have told them already if I wanted them to know,” he explained in a careful tone that made too much sense.
With that comment, a few things suddenly made sense. Of course he’d been serious about coming back from his injury. But on top of that, his extra terrible mood at the fear of being deported if he was let go by the organization added to that. Even more so, dealing with his manager and agent, who didn’t seem to be totally onboard with whatever it was Aiden wanted once his contract came to the end, only made matters worse. But there was one thing that didn’t really add up once I thought about it, and it wasn’t the reason why he didn’t want to go back to Canada or why he didn’t want to stay in Dallas.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked hesitantly.
Those brown irises settled on me, lines scorching his broad forehead.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I frowned in return. “You’ve never really told me anything before.” I blinked. “Ever. But now I quit, and you’re suddenly over at my apartment, asking me to come back to work for you when you hadn’t given a single crap that I was quitting, and you want me to marry you to get your papers fixed. You’re telling me things you don’t want to tell anyone else about and… it’s weird, man. I don’t know what the hell you expect me to tell you.”
“I’m telling you because…” He opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly. Opened it once more before closing it again, the muscles in his cheeks moving, as if he didn’t really know why he was doing so. Hell, I didn’t get it. Finally, Aiden shrugged those massive, rounded shoulders and made sure our gazes met. “I like you as much as I like anyone.”
Damn it.
God damn it.
Diana had told me once that I had no backbone. Actually, I’m pretty sure her exact words had been, “You’re a sucker, Van.”
I like you as much as I like anyone shouldn’t have been a compliment. It really shouldn’t have. I wasn’t that dumb. But…
A rough laugh tore its way out of me unexpectedly, and then I was snickering, raising my eyes to the popcorn ceiling.
Coming from someone like Aiden, I guess it was the biggest compliment I could ever get.
I like you as much as I like anyone. My word.
“Why is that funny?” Aiden asked, a frown curving his mouth.
I slapped a hand over my eyes and leaned forward over the kitchen countertop, giggling a little as I rubbed at my brow bone in resignation. “There’s a huge difference between me not irritating the hell out of you and us being friends, Aiden. You’ve made that perfectly clear, don’t you think?”
His blink was innocent, so earnest, I had no idea what to do with it. “I don’t mind you.”
I don’t mind you.
I started cracking up—really cracking up—and I was pretty sure it sounded like I was crying when I was really laughing.
“You’re the most even-tempered woman I’ve ever met.”
Even-tempered. He was killing me.
This was what my life had come to. Taking half-assed compliments from a man who only cared about one thing: himself. A man who I’d tried to make my friend over and over again to no avail.
To give him credit, he waited a bit before saying carefully, way too calmly, and almost gently, “This isn’t funny.”
I had to squat down behind the kitchen cabinets because my stomach was clenching so badly.
“You’re asking me—oh, hell, my stomach hurts—to perform a felony, and your reasoning for having me do so is because you ‘like me as much as you like anyone,’ because you ‘don’t mind me,’ and because I’m ‘even-tempered.’” I held my hands up to do air quotes over the top of the cabinets. “Holy crap. I didn’t think you had a sense of humor, but you do.”
The best defensive player in the NFO didn’t hesitate with the opening I gave him. “You’ll do it then?”
I couldn’t even find it in me to be annoyed by his persistence after that. I was still laughing too much over my greatest attributes as a possible fake wife. “No, but this has been the highlight in my time knowing you. Really. I wish you’d been like this with me from the beginning. Working for you would have been a lot more fun, and I might have even thought about coming back for a little bit longer.”
It still wasn’t enough though. Working for him permanently wasn’t part of the plan, especially not after everything that happened, and everything he was asking of me now. Marry him.