My stomach sours, and I pinch my lips together to hold back the sick feeling in my gut. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. He doesn’t mean any of it and is likely just trying to cover, but it still stings.
“Isn’t she twenty?” Ryder says.
“Yes!”
“And she’s scared of thunderstorms?”
“Yeah. I don’t get it,” Aiden mumbles.
I’ve heard enough. It’s my fault for being nosy and eavesdropping on their conversation.
Keeping my steps light, I retreat upstairs to my bedroom and pace the room. What Aiden said echoes in my head, and I pick it apart, word for word, needing to know why he would say those things.
Is he really that bothered by my fear of thunderstorms? All the times he held me and murmured in my ear that he has me, was it all for nothing? Was he really thinking I need to grow up?
I reach for the baby hairs on my nape and pull at the strands.
It’s been a week since Hellfire Night, and I thought I’d get more time with Aiden now that it’s over. However, that’s not the case. He’s always gone. Always having to respond to emergencies and do cleanups involving burning bodies.
And now this. I just have to hope there was no truth to what he said.
I would distract myself by gaming with Brandon, but my interest has waned.
Don’t get me wrong, I still love to play, and I chat with him every now and again, but my focus has shifted to Aiden. I can’tignore the weird tug in my chest or the butterflies in my stomach when I’m around him. Plus, I enjoy his hands-on lessons, though I don’t think I’ll ever use what I’ve learned on Brandon.
I throw off the duvet before I get out of bed. Stretching my arms above my head, I groan as joints pop and settle back into place after lying in bed waiting for sleep to come.
I’ve been having to take more naps than usual, all thanks to Aiden and him keeping me up all night. Not that I’m complaining about it.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I love his attention. Especially the type he now gives me that involves whimpered praises in my ear as he makes me come. Now that he spends the night with me, it’s hard to sleep without him being here. I thought I could take a quick nap, but my body refuses to relax.
I fix the black ribbons in my hair and look over myself in the mirror, ensuring that my outfit looks good. Aiden doesn’t mind if I look a little roughed up, but I do. After fixing my clothes in place, I leave my bedroom for the living room on the first floor.
“Aiden, I can’t sleep,” I say. “Can you come cu—” I stop walking, my gaze flicking to Ryder and widening in mock surprise. I can’t let on that I was listening in earlier. “Oh, hey, Ryder. What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “Killing time.”
Aiden pauses the game and peers over the back of the couch. His gaze darkens and rakes over me, drinking in the black top and a pink plaid miniskirt with sheer white stockings and a garter belt. I added the black ribbons to my pigtails just for him.
“What do you need?” he says, his voice soft.
I peek at Ryder, who’s watching the interaction with a weird look, then turn my gaze to Aiden. A blush warms my cheeks, and I nibble my bottom lip. “N-nothing. It’s not important.”
Aiden turns around and lets out a long, heavy sigh as he runs his fingers through his hair. “You know you can tell me anything.”
I shift my weight and peek at Ryder again, feeling like a bug under a microscope from how hard he’s staring at me.
Tires squeal outside, growing louder as the sound moves toward the front of the house. I jump and scramble backward as the living-room window shatters and shards of glass rain down on the floor. The car’s engine screams as the vehicle speeds away.
Ryder and Aiden are already halfway to the front door when my brother shouts over his shoulder for me to stay here.
My pulse pounds like a drum in my ears, but it’s not enough to make me unhear the shattering glass. It’s the same sound I hear in my night terrors. The sound of the tornado ripping apart my childhood home and killing my mom.
I jump as my back bumps into a cold, solid wall. I’m not sure how long I stand frozen, rapidly blinking and fighting off the panic and memories. Aiden rushes through the open front door, his narrowed eyes landing on me and flaring in concern. He closes the space between us in wide strides and gathers me in his arms, holding me against his chest. I bury my face in his throat and cling to him, needing his comfort. He kisses the top of my head and buries his fingers in my hair, and I don’t care that he’s messing up my pigtails.
“What was that?” I whimper.
“Don’t know yet. Are you okay?” he murmurs.
