The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

by Mariana Zapata

  He lifted a shoulder and eyed me, leaning against the door. “Good.”

  “What restaurant did you go to? The Chinese place, that café you like, or Thai?” I asked playfully, slipping my sock on.

  “We went to eat Chinese.”

  “Where’s Leo?” I asked.

  “Downstairs,” was his curt reply before going with, “Did you and Cain date?”

  My sock fell out of my hand. “What?”

  Aiden straightened his upper back as he pushed off the door he’d been leaning against. His face was so remote, I had no idea what the hell that was supposed to mean. “Were you and Cain together?” he repeated himself.

  I kept my gaze on him as I reached down and picked up the sock. “Ahh, no.”

  His cheek twitched.

  “No.” I blinked. “The only reason he started talking to me back then was because he wanted to copy off my work.”

  Why was he making that face?

  “I’m serious. That was the only reason we became friends.”

  He was still making that damn face.

  “What? Okay, maybe I thought he was cute, but that’s all.” I shrugged. “Guys like that don’t like girls like me, big guy.” Honestly, while it was the truth, I had no idea why the hell I’d said it.

  His nostrils flared and his shoulders drew back. “Guys like what?”

  Damn it. There went me feeling awkward as hell. “You know…” I made myself look down as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Like that.”

  “Like me?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Not you-you, necessarily. I just mean… look, it doesn’t matter. I know what I have to work with.” I was all right looking. Every so often, I got hit on. But I wasn’t a major bitch, I worked hard, my crazy was usually under control, and I thought that mattered more than a face that would eventually get wrinkled. “When you can pretty much date whoever you want, and most of you guys can, I’m not going to be at the top of anybody’s list—”

  “Shut up, Vanessa,” he snapped.

  I scoffed. “You shut up.”

  “Van!” Zac exclaimed, banging on the bedroom door. “Chop, chop!”

  Getting to my feet, I quickly slipped my shoes on and shot Aiden a frown. “Look, we never did anything more than eat dinner a few times and study for tests together. I never had any dreams of being his girlfriend or any crap like that, and he never gave me the impression he was interested. I’m not going to do or say anything to jeopardize this between us, okay? You’re the guy I signed paperwork with.”

  He didn’t move away from the door even as I approached it. What did happen was that he seemed to be grinding his teeth together.

  I touched the middle of his chest; the big, perfectly developed slabs of his six-pack hardened under my fingers. “I promise, big guy. I would never break my promise to you. You know that.” When he didn’t say anything, I used my chin to gesture toward the door. “I need to go. When I get back, I’ll make a few casseroles or something so you don’t have to go out to eat again. Okay?”

  Grudgingly, Aiden nodded and moved aside to let me open the door. Zac stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Come on, darlin’. We’re on a tight schedule.”

  * * *

  Five hours later, my legs were all noodle-like and I felt sick. It went passed exhaustion and dehydration—we’d started carrying water reservoirs on packs around our back. I felt like I had the flu. We had taken it easy after our long run two days ago, and our day off had been yesterday. But a puny seven miles with a negative split had damn near killed me. My knees. My ankles. My shoulders. Every single thing ached. Pounding back water hadn’t made me feel any better, drinking coconut water hadn’t helped, sitting down to rest didn’t make a difference, and neither did taking a shower and putting on pajamas.

  I’d had to pull up a chair in front of the stove to cook dinner for goodness sakes.

  Even Zac wasn’t faring too much better. He’d gone straight upstairs to shower after we got back and had taken his food to his room to eat. It was only through sheer will that I sat in the living room with the guys and ate dinner while watching a basketball game, since we didn’t have a dining room table.

  What the hell had I been thinking trying to do a marathon? Why hadn’t I gone with a half one to start off with and work up from there?

  “You need some help?” a slightly familiar voice asked from somewhere behind me.

  Glancing over my shoulder as I rinsed the dishes so I could set them in the dishwasher, I spotted Cain standing in the kitchen with a few glasses in hand. The guys had all headed outside a little while ago, wanting to break in the fire pit. Chris had offered to do the dishes, but Aiden never got to see his friends, so I told him I could do it.

  Even if I ended up passed out in the middle of it.

  “If you want,” I replied.

  “Scoot over.”

  I did and let him take the spot closest to the dishwasher. I rinsed off a dish and passed it over to him, smiling tiredly. “Thanks for helping.”

  “No problem.” His forearm brushed mine as I handed him another plate. “When’s the marathon you’re doing?” he asked, pointing out that he’d been paying attention when Chris had asked me about it during the commercials over dinner.

  “In about two weeks.” Just saying the number out loud made me want to throw up. I barely survived running twenty miles days ago. How was I going to add six point two more?

  “That’s cool.”

  I was too tired to try and make a joke about how not cool it was while I was on the verge of dying. “What have you been up to since school?”

  We hadn’t seen each other since the end of the spring semester of our freshman year. Cain had transferred schools the next fall, and even though I didn’t remember whether he’d ever called or text messaged me afterward, he might have. I’d been in the middle of recuperating from my accident and those next six months had gone by hazily, a mix of pain medicine and anger. I hadn’t been anyone’s friend then other than Diana’s, and that was mostly because she wouldn’t let it be any other way, and truthfully, I hadn’t given Cain much thought after that.

  “I’m in Philadelphia now. I was in San Diego before that for a few years, but everything is great,” he said as he bent over to set the dish in the lower rack of the dishwasher. “How long have you and Graves been together?”

  Considering I wasn’t sure how much Chris and Drew had told Cain, much less what Aiden told them, I was going to wing it. “Well, I worked for him for two years. We’ve been living together for five months now.” That way I didn’t have to get too specific.

  “For real?”

  “For real.”

  “Huh,” he kind of muttered under his breath. “That’s… surprising.”

  A faint reminder of what I had told Aiden in the bedroom earlier flicked through my brain, and I had to keep from snickering.

  His elbow touched mine again as he took another plate from me, his green-eyed gaze reaching mine for a moment. “You look fucking great by the way.”

  Everyone telling me I looked greatly recently only made me really self-conscious about what they used to think of me before. Did I look like shit? “Oh, thanks.” My weight had always yo-yoed depending on how much exercise I was doing. I gained it really easily and lost it really easily, but I couldn’t remember freshman year where I was, but it might have been at one of my heaviest periods.

  Yeah, the silence after that was just plain weird. Luckily, it didn’t take long to finish rinsing everything off and setting the dishwasher to clean. Cain headed out while I wiped the counters off. I was so tired, but it was only nine o’clock at night. I grabbed a glass of water and chugged half of it down before trudging outside to see the guys for a little bit longer.

  Pushing open the French doors leading to the patio with the last little bit of strength I had left, the heat from the stone fire pit hit me in the face immediately. In the second it took for my eyes to adjust, I found all four of the guys sitting aro
und it in various stages of wide-open legs and slouches, hanging out.

  “You finally made it,” Drew, the nicer of the two, exclaimed. On his lap was the blond ball of fur, completely passed out. Apparently, Leo had won someone else over in no time at all.

  “Yeah,” I said pretty weakly, dead on my feet and realizing there were only four seats and they were all taken up.

  “Here, take my seat,” Drew said quickly.

  “Oh, that’s okay.”

  “Sit with me,” Aiden suggested, or maybe demanded, without hesitation.

  I stared at him, squeezing the cool glass lightly between my hands, debating whether to excuse myself or take a seat because there wasn’t another option. What was I going to do? Offer to take the floor when there was a perfectly good leg I could sit on? A leg that belonged to the man his friends believed I’d married out of love. Okay, come on.

  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…

  He’d been making a serious effort to spend time with me. He’d done things for me that I still couldn’t completely wrap my head around. He’d been more than just friendly with me.

  What did it mean though? Weren’t those part of the requirements mandatory in a real relationship? Wasn’t it enough to be with each other when you could, or was I just trying to convince myself there was something there? He’d kissed me. That couldn’t mean nothing, could it?

  That was exactly what I was in the middle of thinking of—and eyeing those great lips—when he caught me. So all I could do was give him a closed mouth smile. “Why not?”

  Cracking both eyes open, Aiden rolled to his back and stretched his arms high behind his head, rolling his wrists in the process as he yawned.

  “Thanks for putting me in bed last night,” I said, watching the swift line of his throat as he yawned again.

  He grumbled, “Uh–huh,” as he rolled his shoulders before slipping his arms beneath the covers again.

  “And for giving me a massage.” I had already tried moving my legs, and sure they were sore, but I knew how much worse they could be. I’d done everything I was supposed to do to help prevent the stiffness, but there was only so much a body that wasn’t 100 percent to begin with could handle.

  “There wasn’t much to massage.”