Aidan laughed low in his throat, his smile real and genuine, and suddenly Bailey knew exactly what Lily saw in him. “I didn’t suggest you made him miserable,” he said. “I’m suggesting that your presence might chase away his misery.”
She managed a small smile. Because she remembered throwing herself at Hud last night and he’d…
Resisted.
Easily.
Aidan looked down at his mug and then back into Bailey’s eyes. “He ever tell you why he doesn’t easily get attached to people?”
“Because his plate is full,” she said. “He doesn’t have room. Especially since he’s determined to find Jacob.”
Aidan’s smile was humorless. “Yeah, he talks a good game, doesn’t he? He’s full of shit, Bailey.”
“So he lied to me?”
“He’s lying to himself. He blames himself for our dad leaving his mom—which, don’t even get me started. He blames himself for his mom not being well—more ridiculousness. He blames himself for Jacob leaving—a whole new level of ridiculousness.”
Bailey’s heart squeezed. “That’s a lot for him to put on himself.”
“No shit. But our boy likes to blame himself.” He took another drink from his mug. “The stairs at the end will take you down to the gym.”
“Oh. Well, actually, I think I’m just going to…” She gestured to the front door.
Aidan just looked at her for a beat. “My mistake then,” he said coolly. “Do you still want a ride?”
She looked at the door and paused. The silence in the room was deafening. “Dammit,” she whispered.
I’m falling for you because you’re everything I want in a man…
She closed her eyes. What if she did go see him? What would that accomplish? It’s not like she could take the words back. Nope, they were out there now taking root, making a life of their own.
Maybe he’d just shrug it all off as the ramblings of a cheap drunk…
No. No, she’d seen his face, had seen the regret, and worse, she’d seen the horror.
He didn’t want her to feel these things for him. Which made two of them. But if she left now, she knew she’d kill whatever this was. If she left now, she would be taking them down a path she couldn’t retrace, sending the message that she was ashamed of what she’d said last night.
She wasn’t ashamed. She’d meant every word.
And yet to stay and face him… That was definitely the tougher route. But last night he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d kept her off the roads. He’d allowed her to stay. And more than all of that, he’d taken care of her.
She needed to thank him. It was just good manners. Turning, she glanced at Aidan where he still stood watching the dark night slowly turn into a glorious morning.
He’d let her have her inner battle in private.
“I’ll get my keys,” he said.
She drew a deep breath. “Not necessary. Turns out we were both wrong about what I’m doing next.”
He turned then and met her gaze, a small smile on his mouth. “Not me,” he said. “I had money on you and I never lose.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Well you could’ve saved me some time and anxiety if you’d just said so to start with.”
White teeth flashed. “Where would the fun be in that?”
The stairs did indeed lead to the gym. The only windows in the place were high, up close to the ceilings, and set in the concrete walls. The moon was still up and beaming ghostly slants of light across the hardwood floor, casting the room in a patchwork of luster and shadow.
Hud was indeed there, shirtless, sweatpants dangerously low slung, working weights. As she moved across the floor to the weight bench where he was mechanically lifting, she shifted in and out of the moonbeams. Dark. Light. Dark. Light.
Matching the flip-flopping emotions churning through her. Stay. Go. Stay…
Hud continued to silently hoist weights in perfectly timed repetitions like some dark superhero, and she took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the man and how much she ached just looking at him.
She leaned over the bar and smiled at him.
He didn’t look surprised to see her. Nor did he return her smile.
“Right,” she murmured. “Because you remember everything about last night.”
He settled the bar into the rack and sat up as she moved around to straddle the bench facing him. “You don’t remember?” he asked with a whisper of disbelief.
“Not at first, but it’s all coming back to me.” Determined to keep the tone light, she tried smiling again. “So. I threw myself at you. Should I apologize for that?”
The false stillness in his face told her that he wasn’t going to let her keep anything light and he wasn’t going to smile this away either. “Absolutely not,” he said.
Okaaaaay. “And the things I said,” she managed. “How about that?”
“You shouldn’t apologize for what you feel,” he said carefully. “Ever.”
With a sigh, she scooted forward and invaded his space. When he didn’t make a move to get away, or make any move at all in fact, she splayed her hands on his chest. “I wanted to thank you.”