CHAPTER 20
Aiden
“Heard you were at Harper’s house in the middle of the night.”
WHACK!
“Oomf!” I let out the noise involuntarily. “You waited to say that just to get a hit in.”
“Worked, didn’t it?” Ben wags his eyebrows at me across the ring. “So…have a nice time?”
I scoff, “Covered in vomit and blood? No.”
“Huh?” He pauses and I get a nice jab into his rib. “Ow!”
“She screamed, I went to help, that’s all,” I explain.
“Wait, hold on,” he holds up a gloved hand. “Harper was bleeding?”
“Her father fell. He has Parkinson’s, I’ve since learned. He cut his hand and foot. Harper saw the blood and screamed. I heard the scream and rushed next door. She was woozy, I helped. The nurse came, I left.”
I also wanted to hold her and carry her away from it all. And with those skimpy shorts and tank top she had on, it was a good thing there was so much refuse flying everywhere or else I would’ve been so distracted I’d have been no help at all.
“You are good in a crisis,” he concedes. “Still, running to help a stranger is not exactly your M.O.”
“She’s not a stranger,” I snap, too defensive. He catches on immediately. Damn my honest mouth.
“Ah, so, she’s your…?”
“Friend,” I try the word on for size. Doesn’t fit.
“Okay,” he studies me, “So you’renottrying to date her?”
“No.”Maybe? No. Probably not…
He nods, “Good, Janie hasn’t said anything other than that she’s off limits.”
“Off limits?”
He points with his big red glove, “To you. Off limits to you, specifically.”
“Bloody hell, why does your wife hate me?”
He tries to scratch behind his ear with the glove on. Idiot. He answers me, “Could be the tearing down her hometown bit. Don’t think so, though.”
“What, then?”
He winces, “Your cheery disposition?”
I roll my eyes and shift in the center of the ring. I jut my chin at him and say, “I’myourbest friend. I was rude to her when she broke your heart. Now, she loves you, so she should trust your judgment.”
He raises his hands to fight again, like we’re almost done with this, “True. Which is why I think, if you did want to date Harper, you could try to…you know, woo her.”
“Woo her? Have we transported back to the early 1900’s?”
He relaxes his stance and looks at the ceiling, “Come on, mate, you know what I mean. Be less…grouchy.” I ponder this. He goes on, “Maybe, try to show her how she should be treated. She obviously needs taking care of. I heard you drive her around so she doesn’t have to bike. That’s good, more of that. Except…”
“Except what?” I ask, suddenly on the edge of my metaphorical seat.
