“What can I say... she’s a good influence on me.”
“Hmmm.” The sound rattles around in the silence of my apartment. “Speaking of which, are you at her place?”
He looks at me like he’s not sure how to respond, so I nod that he should tell her. “Yes, I walked her home. Wanted to make sure she was okay and that asshole, Carter, didn’t follow her from the bar.”
“That was Carter?” AJ’s voice is the perfect mix ofoh my godandI’m going back there to rip his balls off, myself.
“Yeah,” I say with a deflated sigh. “In the flesh.”
“Oh, Morgan. I’m so sorry you ever wasted your time on him.”
Hearing her confirm that I’m too good for him, and knowing that hestilldidn’t want me, makes me feel even worse. So does the smug look plastered across Aidan’s face.
“He’s a mistake I’d really like to keep in the past.” I need to turn this conversation away from my love life. “Okay, so I’m safely home, which means Renaud is about to leave. Before he goes, how are we going to handle the PR nightmare that’s probably already unfurling on social media?”
“I’m going to need you to put together a statement from the Rebels, and while Renaud’s there, could you please help him craft an appropriate response, too?”
“No problem, boss,” Aidan says with a sly grin in my direction. “I’ll stay as long as it takes.”
“Which won’t be long,” I add emphatically. I need him out of my space so I can think about what just happened back at the bar, why he followed me home and insisted on coming in, and whether either of those things means something.
We disconnect the call and he opens the fridge, pulling out two cans of seltzer and then looking around the living area of my apartment. “Give me a tour?”
“Aidan, what was supposed to be a fun night out with friends has now turned into more work and a black eye, thanks to you. Let’s just get this over with.”
He sets the cans on the counter and moves toward me. He rests his hand over mine where it holds the bag of frozen corn against my face, then leans in. With his voice low, he says, “Hey, I’m sorry about both, but I’mnotsorry I hit that douchebag who clearly deserved it. And I’m even less sorry now that I know you and he had something together in the past.”
I shake my head slightly. “Can we please forget about that part of it?” Now that I’ve seen Carter and Aidan side by side and experienced how they each treated me, I’m actually embarrassed that I ever gave Carter my time and attention.
“Trust me, I’m trying to wipe it from my memory. I don’t want to think about you with anyone else.”
A shiver racks my body at his possessive tone, but I ignore it. Instead, I lift an eyebrow. “Or withyou,right? Since we’re just friends?”
He nods, but there’s nothingfriendlyabout the way he’s eying me.
“So, about that tour, friend?” He heads out of the kitchen and starts walking through my living room, and I follow behind him, trying not to focus on the way his pants cling to his ass.
I know I should get him to focus on the statement we need to write, but seeing him relaxed and borderline flirtatious reminds me how much I like this side of him.
Friends, I tell myself as he heads down the hallway to explore the rest of my place.Just show him around first, and then you can get him to focus.
Chapter Twenty-Five
MORGAN
“Are you sure you’re going to make it through this meal?” Audrey asks after the waiter brings our food. The wait today was torturously long, as everyone in Boston has apparently decided to enjoy this beautiful fall day by going out to Sunday brunch. I’m exhausted, and brunch has now run into the midday nap I was planning to take in order to make up for my lack of sleep this weekend.
I stayed up half the night Friday writing a statement from the Rebels and helping Aidan craft one he could post as well, despite the way he tried to get us off track every chance he got. Then the story of Aidan’s “violently aggressive” return to Boston flooded the media on Saturday morning based on some videos people took at the bar the night before.
I spent most of Saturday at the Rebels practice facility working with the PR team on how to handle this and crafting the story we wanted to tell on social media. AJ made a public statement about Aidan defending a fellow member of the Rebels staff who was being sexually harassed, so now I’m officially part of the story because I was in the video.
I had to fend off my dad’s questions about why Aidan and I were at a bar together, and then Natalie and I spent the rest ofthe day responding to comments on our social media platforms. The girl’s good, I’ll give her that. We decided on a tone—we protect our own—and she went with it. People were reposting our cheeky responses and, in general, the consensus was that Boston fans are glad Renaud is back, and everyone outside of Boston hates him.
I have a feeling he feeds off that energy, so maybe his return to the ice will be spectacular and this will all be okay for him, after all? It doesn’t change the fact that I’m annoyed I had to spend all weekend dealing with his inability to avoid fighting. I’ve asked myself many times if I’d be this frustrated if it were a different player, and the honest truth is, I don’t know.
There’s something mysterious and frustrating about how closed off Aidan is now that we’re back in Boston. Every once in a while, like on Friday night at my place, I see the briefest glimpse of the man I met at a bar during a tropical storm. But that persona seems buried deep down beneath whatever Aidan is working through right now.
“I’m fine. It was just a long weekend of work. I hate to say this because I know you both are probably dreading it,” I glance between Jules and Audrey, “but I’m glad the team’s on the road this coming week. I need some time to focus on my other clients too. This has already been a lot more than I agreed to, and even though it will mean larger paychecks, it’s exhausting.”
