by Teague, AS
His head popped up and he gave me a hard shake. “No.”
I took a sip of the wine he’d handed me and realized that I had more than a little buzz going. How many glasses had I had tonight?
“It’s just family stuff,” he groaned.
I smiled sadly. “I know all too well about family stuff.”
His eyes lit. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before.” He held up his rocks glass. “What is it they say about whiskey?”
I smirked. “It gives you a limp dick?”
He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “They do say that, but trust me, that is not what I was trying to say.”
I arched a brow and pointedly looked at his crotch. “You sure you’re not trying to tell me something? Erectile dysfunction is nothing to be ashamed of. No need to make up excuses.”
Aiden’s brilliant smile returned as he smirked. “Need me to show you that I definitely do not have that problem?”
Over the rim of my wine glass I wiggled my brows. “Maybe. But first, I want to know your secret.”
“Ah. That.” His grin was still firmly in place, but his eyes dimmed slightly. “It’s nothing.”
I nudged his knee with my foot. “It’s something. I’ll tell you one of mine. An eye for an eye. Well, a secret for a secret.”
He settled back and wrapped his arm along the back of the sofa that was situated in the center of his room. His fingertips trailed along my shoulder before coming to rest at the back of my neck. “Okay, then. But I’m telling you a real secret. So, you can’t come up with some shit, like you’ve got a famous tenth cousin or you’re a world-famous doctor.”
“Deal. But I’m sort of a doctor.”
His eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not.”
“Hand to heart… blah blah. I’m a physical therapist. I have my doctorate of physical therapy. So technically, you wouldn’t call me Dr. Holstein. Unless you wanted to.” I winked and then waved at his shocked expression. “But that won’t be my secret. So, tell me yours.”
He took another long pull from his whiskey and then sucked in a breath. “My older brother is Maxwell Shaw.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t I prompted. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Maxwell Shaw is the highest paid quarterback in the entire league. He’s broken every record that has ever been held. He’s football’s golden boy.” He grimaced. “He’s my parents’ golden child.”
I frowned. “Was that him texting you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I haven’t talked to him in months. But, pathetically, I was hoping it was my mom or dad. You know, when I got drafted, my dad sent me a text that said ‘Thought you were going to go first overall.’ Not ‘Congratulations on being a top ten pick’ or ‘Proud of you, son’, none of that. Dad’s a Hall of Famer himself. So was my grandfather. I come from a long line of football greats. Apparently, I’m not living up to the family name.” He shook his head. “And don’t get me started on my mother. I haven’t even heard from her.”
He tried to force a smile, but I could see the hurt in his face. It was a feeling I was all too familiar with. I reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers as I laced them through mine. “My mother died when I was a child, and the foster care system took me from my father when I was ten. I bounced from foster home to foster home, with a few stints back at my dad’s until the system realized that he was still worthless and would take me away from him again.” I tried to sound nonchalant, like it didn’t bother me, because, really, I had come to terms with my shitty childhood a long time ago, but my voice wobbled a bit as I told him about my life.
But coming to terms with it meant that I still felt the pain of not belonging, of never being wanted or cared for. I just accepted that it was not my issue, but those around me. My father lost out on the chance to be a part of my life, and that was his fault, not mine.
Brooke was the only person whom I’d ever admitted that to. Any man who I’d dated, even the ones seriously, hadn’t known what my life was like before college. But the way Aiden’s eyes locked with mine, the sincere understanding that I saw reflected back at me, and if we’re being honest, the wine that I’d had that night, had prompted me to tell him the dirty secret of my past.
“Wow,” he breathed. “Your secret definitely trumps mine.”
“Having the worst childhood isn’t a competition. And besides, just because you didn’t grow up in foster care doesn’t mean you had it easy.”
His fingers brushed my knee. “Yeah, but my parents still took care of me. And I’m sure they love me. They just love my brother more. Nothing I’ve ever done has been good enough for them.”
I tipped my glass toward him. “One of the many reasons I don’t ever want to have kids. It seems like no matter what we do, we’re bound to screw our kids up somehow. I’d rather not be the reason a person needs therapy in life.”
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” he said sadly. “You with your shitty father, me with my preferential parents.”
I smiled and held up my glass. “To us. A pair of people who proved to everyone around us that we are so much more than what they ever thought we could be. You’re going to be the best quarterback the world has ever seen, and I’m going to show the world that growing up in the foster system doesn’t automatically sentence a person to a terrible life.”
His gentle eyes roamed my face, the hunger that had been in them in the casino transformed into a genuine respect, one that I returned as well. He clinked his glass with mine and said, “To meeting the woman of my dreams in a smoky casino in Vegas.”
My stomach flipped, and I took another sip of wine and winked. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
We talked about everything and nothing for hours after that. Our conversation ranged from our favorite movies to the last time we’d been on a date. We talked about college, comparing notes on what had and hadn’t changed in the last decade. There was something there between us, and I couldn’t stop myself from touching him. His arm, his leg, casual brushes of my fingers along the exposed flesh of his muscular forearm. He must have felt that spark too, because he couldn’t keep his hands off me either. We drank nearly all of the alcohol in the mini bar, and I groaned when I noticed light filtering through the curtains.
“Fuck,” he murmured, a boyish grin on his face. “I was supposed to spend the night fucking you. Instead, we spent it talking. Not that I’m complaining; that was the best conversation I’ve had in a long time.”
I laughed. “I was supposed to spend the night showing you what an older woman could really do, although, if you ever call me old, I will hurt you.”
Aiden’s fingers brushed an unruly lock of hair from my face, and then he cupped my cheek. “This is the best one-night stand I’ve ever had. You were incredible.”
I pressed forward and brushed my lips to his. “I’d forgotten how long a guy your age could go.”
Aiden unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off as I stifled a moan. Dear Lord, those abs.
“Here, wear this back; it’ll be more convincing.”
I twisted my lips. “Why do I have to be convincing?”
His shoulder lifted. “You were talking a lot of smack earlier. Your friend is going to be very disappointed if you tell her you spent the night telling me all your secrets.”
I poked him in the chest. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
I snagged his phone from the coffee table and quickly entered my phone number along with my name. I didn’t know what I wanted from him, if there was even anything to want. But I knew that I’d regret it if I walked away now with no way to ever see him again.
With one final brush of my lips against his, I pushed to my feet and pranced toward the bathroom, his shirt in hand. When I emerged a few minutes later, I was wearing nothing but that button down, his belt wrapped around my waist turning it into a dress. I tossed my own dress in his direction. “A little souvenir from our wild
night together.” I winked.
Aiden stood, but I shook my head. “Don’t make it awkward.”
He held a hand up in surrender, and I blew him a kiss, wiggling my ass in his direction on the way out of his door. I could hear his deep chuckle as I softly closed the door behind me.
The smile on my face while I waited on the elevator only stretched larger when my phone chimed with an incoming text from an unknown number:
Unknown: When can I see you again?
Chapter One
Mel
It had been three days since we’d gotten back from Vegas.
Three days of catching up when I’d already been a week behind before I left.
And three days of trying to wrap my head around what the hell had happened in that hotel room with none other than Aiden Shaw.
Yeah. I’d Googled him.
And yeah, he was just as famous as I’d feared. He was a college football superstar, and there were more than a few pictures of him floating around with a gorgeous blonde on his arm.
He was twenty-two.
He lived in Wisconsin, which was over nine hundred miles from my home in Atlanta.
And he had the whole world in front of him; meanwhile, I had a career that devoured nearly all of my free time.
I hadn’t responded to Aiden’s last text because honestly, I didn’t know if there was any point. We came from completely different worlds. But I liked him. And not just because of his crystal blue eyes or incredible body. During those hours, laughing and swapping secrets in a Vegas hotel room, I’d felt more for that man than I had for anyone else in years. It was only a spark. But it was a start.
So, that night, three days after I’d met him, when I’d gotten home from work, collapsed into bed, and opened up my messages to text Brooke a reminder about our date for wine and sushi on Friday night, his text from that night appearing in my messages, it all but burned.
Aiden: When can I see you again?
I pulled the blankets over me and stared at it. I should have let it go. What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, right? Well, it would have if I’d been able to stop thinking about him. And for me, the consummate realist, there was no way anything would ever work between the two of us. But in the end, the undeniable chemistry won out over any sort of logic.
Me: Soon.
I didn’t set it up with any, “Hey, remember me, the girl from the casino who you almost slept with.” I just answered his question.
It wasn’t a minute later when my phone buzzed in response.
Aiden: How soon?
I grinned at the phone.
Me: Hi.
Aiden: Not to sound like a broken record or anything, but that took you long enough.
Me: Delayed gratification. You should give it a try sometime.
Aiden: Fuck. That. When can I see you? This weekend?
I shifted deeper into my bed, typing out another message with a huge smile on my face.
Me: I couldn’t take off on such short notice. Work is a madhouse right now. Not to mention, booking a flight at this time would be like setting my money on fire.
Aiden: I don’t know if you heard, but I know this guy who recently got drafted to the NFL. Bet he wouldn’t mind burning some Benjamins.
Me: You did not just call money Benjamins. Are you in middle school trying to impress your crush?
Aiden: I don’t know. Are you impressed???
His text had about ten winky faces after it, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I’d never in my life felt like an old lady, not even the night that I’d spent with Aiden. But these ridiculous texts he kept sending me had me feeling every bit my thirty-year-old self.
I yawned and rolled to my side.
Me: Nope.
Aiden: Come out this weekend. I’ll change your mind.
Me: Can’t this weekend.
Aiden: Give me one good reason?
Me: Well, we’ve got a patient who was in a motor vehicle accident who’s been paralyzed from the neck down. And today, he wiggled his toes. On his own. So, we have to act fast and get serious PT going; otherwise, we could miss our window. And considering I’m pretty much on my own right now, it’s up to me.
Aiden: Shit. I didn’t really expect you to have a good reason.
Me: Unfortunately, I have a lot of good reasons.
With heavy lids, I watched the bottom of the phone where the text bubble bounced, but it took a while for another message to come through.
Aiden: Hey, babe, I’m out at dinner with some friends. Can I call you when I get back and we can discuss these REASONS?
Me: I’m headed to bed, actually.
Aiden: Oh, really? What are you wearing?
I grinned but put the phone down. With a meeting at six, and the lack of shower involved in crashing into bed nearly fully clothed, I did not have time for that conversation. Though, for Aiden, I feared I might make time for it. Besides, a little cat and mouse never hurt anyone.
I fell asleep that night with blue eyes and rippled abs dancing through my head.
Unfortunately, the much-needed sleep I got did nothing to prepare me for the unexpected guests at our meeting the next morning.
Three Days Later
Me: Dark blue scrubs.
Aiden: She liiiiiiiiiiiiiives……….
Me: Ha… funny.
Aiden: It only took you three days.
Me: Sorry. Work is literally crazy.
Aiden: I’ve been crazy lately. Crazy for you.
Me: If I weren’t slammed and in between patients, I’d find that eye roll GIF I love so much.
Aiden: When can I see you again?
Me: Soon.
Aiden: Soon only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades…
Me: Not how that phrase goes…
Aiden: Bet you’re smiling.
Me: Should I worry that you’re stalking me?
Aiden: Nah… I just have that effect on people… at least, I thought I did…
Aiden: What are your plans for dinner?
Five Days Later
Me: Takeout.
Aiden: So, this is how it’s gonna be?
Me: What do you mean?
Aiden: I ask you a question, you take days to respond…
Me: I know, I’m just crazy busy with work… and honestly…
Aiden: Honestly what?
Me: What are we even doing?
Aiden: Well, I was hoping we were getting to know each other better.
Me: Yeah, but why? You’re hundreds of miles away. And I can’t even respond to your messages in a timely manner.
Aiden: You make me laugh.
Aiden: You see through my bullshit.
Aiden: You know all of my secrets.
Me: I know one of your secrets.
Aiden: I’ll tell you another, then.
Me: Oh, yeah?
Aiden: Here it is…
Aiden: I prefer briefs to boxers.
Me: Oh, dear God. Please tell me they aren’t white… The mental image in my head… it’s not a good one.
Aiden: But you’re imagining me half naked, right? That’s a win in my book.
Me: Your football career’s gonna be a short one if that’s what you consider a win.
Aiden: Tell me one of your secrets now.
Me: Oh, no. I didn’t agree to an eye for an eye.
Aiden: C’mon. You know you wanna…. I’ll send you a picture of me in my tightie whities if you do.
Me: That is NOT the way to convince me to tell you a secret.
Aiden: That’s what you think…
Me: I don’t like chocolate.
Aiden: What? Who doesn’t like chocolate?
Me: It’s just… blah. I prefer ice cream.
Aiden: I can get behind that.
Aiden: Why is work so crazy?
Me: One of our therapists at the hospital just had a baby; she’s out on maternity leave, and it seems like we have more injuries in the summertime. Not to mention the fact that my boss was just indicted on
fraud charges. So, there’s that.
Aiden: Fraud?
Me: Yeah… I can’t really talk about it. But let’s just say… it’s pretty intense.
Aiden: Well, when you can talk about it, I’m here.
Me: Thanks.
Aiden: So, what’s your favorite flower?
Ten Days Later
Me: Hydrangeas.
Aiden: Shit… So, it’s not orchids?
Me: Nope. But they are beautiful. Especially the ten you sent me.
Aiden: Did they brighten your day?
Me: They did. They also crowded my desk and caused one of my assistants to have an asthma attack…
Aiden: My gesture took their breath away. I like it.
Aiden: Did my gesture take your breath away too?
Me: Yes, because I almost had to do CPR.
Aiden: When can I see you again? And don’t say soon.
Me: Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. They’ve wrapped up the case with my boss, which means they’ve fired him and hired someone knew.
Aiden: Oh, yeah? That’s… good?
Me: Well, not for him. But it is for me. I can finally breathe again, and it means I’ve got next weekend off.
Aiden: Dammit… I’ve got mandatory training camp.
Me: Le sigh… and so it goes. Soon.
Aiden: I’m going to explode if I have to wait much longer. My fingers haven’t stopped itching to run through your curls since that night. How am I ever going to throw a pass with itchy fingers?
Me: Better than an itchy crotch.
Aiden: At least they make a cream for that…
Aiden: Tell me a secret…
Me: I’m starving and there’s no food in my house that I want.