Almost everything, anyway.
Aiden slowed to a walk, pressing a hand into his side. Pain radiated down his back. Damn, that hurt. He’d been running too much lately, hoping the pounding of his feet on the pavement would drown out his thoughts. At least the pain quelled them.
Then again, maybe not, he thought as he turned the corner and saw Sadie’s car parked in front of his father’s house. He almost reached up and rubbed his eyes to be sure she was really there. But that was her, all right, climbing out and shielding her eyes from the relentless rain.
Her hair soaked through and went flat on her head in the seconds it took for him to walk to her. She waited, her white dress shirt plastered to her skin and giving him a peek at the lacy bra underneath.
His heart clenched. She was exquisite. Beautiful. He missed her so much.
She doesn’t love you.
Yeah. There was that.
Her lids fluttered as stray raindrops splattered against her face. Either that or she was crying. He steeled himself for the possibility. Even if she wept, he couldn’t let it break his resolve. He’d come this far—had nearly a week under his belt. It would get easier. Hopefully.
“What are you doing here?” he called over the driving rain.
“I came to see you,” she called back. She gestured to the car. “Take a drive with me?” An uncomfortable smile. “My treat.”
Aiden had imagined Sadie coming to him. And in every imagining, he had said yes no matter what she’d asked. He’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless and promised to love her forever. But now that she stood in front of him, the memory of her pushing him away was too fresh. Too painful.
“No, thank you,” he told her. He hazarded a glance at the wide front window of his father’s house. The living room light was out, Dad and Evan likely still in the den. Unable to let Sadie stand in the downpour any longer, Aiden tipped his head toward the awning and led her to the porch.
She scaled the steps in a pair of tall red heels and it took everything in him to keep from grabbing her hand and helping her up. If he touched her, it’d be over. He’d probably crush her against him and kiss her and forget every assurance he’d just given himself.
Sadie smoothed her hair, which was already starting to curl on the ends. He recalled the morning—the last morning—they’d shared a shower, how she’d towel dried her hair, leaving the strands in damp waves, her face scrubbed free of makeup. Had she known she didn’t love him then? He gave the memory a violent push.
Don’t go there.
“What’s up?” he asked, hoping to get to the reason why she came, and get her out of here as soon as possible. Preferably before Dad and Evan noticed. He cast another look at the house. Still dark.
“I saw Crickitt today,” she said as she rubbed her hands together in a nervous gesture. “She and Shane had some news—”
“Sadie.” Aiden’s patience was thin ice. Maybe thinner. “You didn’t come here to talk about my cousin.”
He wouldn’t let her dance around this. Not again. Not after he’d been nothing but forward and honest. He deserved the same from her. He deserved at least that. Harmony had been the queen of the start and stall. She’d leave him, then come back, and he’d let her, only to watch her leave again. How long until Sadie’s next freak-out?
Love shouldn’t be this hard.
Love wasn’t hard for him. Love was simple. Love was yes, followed by a hundred more yeses. What was so damn complicated about that? He understood Sadie was afraid—hell, he was afraid. He knew how betrayal could kill a relationship. And he knew how death could separate you from a loved one for forever. So did Sadie, he realized, as he watched the water dripping from her chin. She’d lost her father. She’d lost her fiancé. And yet she refused to open herself up to Aiden. Despite the firm hold Sadie had on his heart, he wouldn’t allow himself to go through the pain of losing her again. No matter how good it felt to take her back in the moment.
“You have one minute,” he said, ignoring the painful squeeze in his heart, “before I say good-bye and go inside.”
His heart squeezed even harder when Sadie pressed her lips together and acquiesced with a nod. “Okay, that’s fair.” She pulled in a breath, lifted her shoulders, and crossed her arms over her see-through shirt. He’d seen her this vulnerable before. The night he’d driven into her, his name rolling off her lips on a cry of ecstasy. The night he’d told her he loved her while he cradled her face in his hands.
Don’t go there, dammit.