We’d agreed quickly on the sleeping arrangements: Britt and Taylor would take his bed—without him in it, I made sure to clarify. Dom would crash on the couch, and Kali would take my bed. Ayden said he’d cleaned the bedding in our parents’ room and warned it may smell like all-purpose cleaner. I remember them having an air mattress one year when the upstairs loft bed was getting replaced. I told him I’d take that if it was there.
His slight nod of agreement almost made me ask if he had other plans for where I’d sleep… but I didn’t.
I ended up back outside, slinging Taylor over my shoulder after she and Britt nearly went skinny-dipping in the freezing lake.
Once they were finally settled in bed and Dom was comfortable on the couch, Ayden handed out cups of water to each of them before meeting me in the master bedroom.
The room feels empty, despite the king-sized bed against the far wall flanked by two nightstands. A closet door looms closed to my right, and a cabinet with a built-in electric fireplace sits opposite. No TV, though I’m sure that’s what the space above it was meant for. And where there were family portraits, there’s currently nothing.
“I took the photos down and just put them into the drawers in the closet,” Ayden says as he closes the door behind us. “We can put them back up later.”
I release a heavy sigh. “Thanks for doing that…”
Guilt is such an interesting sensation. One that is so difficult to find relief from. It’s like a disease that’s incurable but isn’t visible on the outside. One that doesn’t always show itself, but in the midst of the memory of it, crawls across my skin like little needles threatening to break into my muscle.
It’s terrible.
Looking down at him staring at me, I press my lips together and move toward the closet. “The air mattress in here?”
He doesn’t say anything, nor does he nod.
“Why’d you stop drinking tonight?” he asks, just as I’m opening the door to the wardrobe.
“Wasn’t feeling it.” It’s an obvious lie. “Is it?” I flip the light on, seeing boxes stacked on top of one another at the opposite side of the walk-in. “In here.”
“Keo.”
I drop my chin and shrug my shoulders. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to drink, so I just… stopped. It’s not a big deal.”
He hums softly, and I turn to look in his direction. He has a genuine smile on his lips as he shakes his head. “The air mattress had a hole in it, so I tossed it out on trash collection day.” He puts his hands into his low hanging sweats. “Sorry.”
The groan I release isdefinitelyfilled with irritation. “I’m not crawling into bed with Kali, and Dom is basically my size. That couch won’t do.”
Ayden then chuckles and slowly gestures toward the bed.
Nope.
I cannot. I’m notthatstrong.
“It’s huge, Keo.” He grabs the hem of his shirt, turning toward the bed as he pulls it off slowly, revealing his back. “I’ll put a pillow wall between us.”
I’m not even sure he registers what he’s just done. I’ve seen his chest plenty of times, but never his back. Which—unfortunately for me—is just as distracting.
“If that’ll make you feel more comfortable,” he adds.
And as much as I want to take in every inch of him, it’s the scar that catches me instead. It runs from the middle of his spine all the way down to his tailbone.
“Ayden…”
“Hmm?” He gazes over his shoulder at me, and I think he clocks the shock written all over my face. “Shit.”
“What the fuck happened?” I whisper-shout.
“Goddamn it.” He turns toward me and drops quickly onto the bed, hands covering his face like he can hide from me. “It’s nothing.”
Bull-fucking-shit. He’s not doing this right now. I’m not letting him shut me outagain.
I cross the room in a heartbeat, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him onto his side.
