Nick glanced down and snorted, rolling his eyes. “Jesus.”
There was a whole lot of subtext going on here, and I was missing all of it. “I’ve just been doing my job,” I said, trying to make sense of the conversation. Was Pierce trying to get a rise out of Aiden by using me? If so, why would that make Aiden mad? Sure, he’d kissed me, but we hadn’t been friends for twelve years. “This is befuddling,” I muttered.
Nick coughed out a laugh.
Aiden glanced at where I stood, somehow, and turned back to Pierce. “Does she know why you left LAPD?”
I perked up.
Pierce didn’t so much as twitch. “I don’t believe we’ve had that conversation yet. Although, considering she spent the night with prosecuting attorney Nicolo Basanelli last night, I don’t know that she wants to understand my life.”
Nick’s indrawn breath coincided with my gasp.
I swiveled toward him. “I did not stay the night.”
“I know,” he said dryly. “I’m sorry. Detective Pierce made a comment about my bandage today, and I retorted that it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one you’d done for me. Apparently, he’s running with the innuendo. Probably just to see if he can get beneath Devlin’s skin. I’ll set him straight after this. I promise.”
Great. That’s all I needed. Then I stared back into the room. Aiden’s expression remained the same, so Pierce’s gamble hadn’t worked. Then he looked up again. Directly at me.
Fire burned in those blue eyes. All sorts of different hues of blue flames. I took an involuntary step back.
“Well then,” Nick breathed. “Guess that answers that.”
Chapter 22
Wednesday had been one of the longest days of my life, and I drove down my long driveway, sighing in relief at having the day almost done. Of course, my dad would probably be calling within the hour with the news that I’d received an anniversary card.
I loved June eighth through December twenty-first. I truly did.
For now, I was going to relax. Until I saw Aiden’s black and shiny chrome motorcycle right up against my garage door. Come on. He’d only been let loose an hour before, and he’d headed right to my place? I stopped my car and rested my head on the steering wheel.
I ran through my options of leaving, calling the police, or facing him.
He came around the garage, no doubt having heard my car. He was still wearing the jeans and motorcycle jacket, and as he leaned against the siding, he was quite the sight. Bad boy behind his bike. I should’ve taken a picture and sold it for calendars.
Instead, I exited my car and slammed the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure.” Hisoh shucksshrug was kind of appealing, although the dangerous glint in his eye negated any cuteness. “I had a shitty day, and chances are, so did you.” He ran a rough hand through his thick hair, leaving it ruffled and too sexy. “You know what today is.”
Yeah. So, he did remember. I glanced at my watch. It was surprising my dad hadn’t called yet. “What do you want, Aiden?”
His gaze ran from my boots to my face. Then he cocked his head at the bike. “Wanna go for a ride?”
I stilled. A ride? My gaze slid from him to the big bike. Sure, I’d ridden dirt bikes my entire life, but a motorcycle on the open road was another story. I couldn’t just go for a ride with him. The guy had just been in police custody for questioning, although he obviously hadn’t been arrested. This time.
“Come on, Anna,” he coaxed, pushing off the side of the garage. “Let’s go for a ride. Feel the wind in your hair and the rush of power between your thighs. We can just forget everything for a few minutes.”
Between my thighs. Surprisingly enough, I don’t think he meant it as a come-on or an innuendo. The idea of being free and away from life for a short time was beyond enticing. Just to not think.
He gave that smirk that had ticked me off earlier and straddled the bike, kicking it free. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to me, his face full of dare. How many times through the years had I dreamed of him asking me for a ride on a motorcycle? Would it be as good as I fantasized?
I’ve never claimed to be anything other than human.
Without a word, I tossed my purse back into my car and strode to him, taking the jacket and putting my arms through the sleeves. It was way too big and smelled like him. Wild and free. Then I took his hand and hopped up behind him. The feel of the hard leather against my legs caught me first, and then I slid my hands around his waist. His abdomen was flat with ripped muscles that made me bite back a groan. He levered up and then down, starting the bike, and it came to life with a fierce roar that vibrated throughout my entire body.
“This is such a mistake,” I muttered, wrapping my arms more securely around him. Around Aiden Devlin.
He laughed, the sound low and masculine. “Hold on, Angel.” He flipped around and drove down the drive.
