Or when Aiden watched the scene with cold calculation.
We all sit facing the huge TV that occupies the entire wall. Hell, it’s the same size as cinemas’ screens. The leather sofas can easily swallow a person. There’s even a place to put hamburgers, chips, and beer.
Kim and I settle for soda. I ignore the fact that Aiden snatches the regular coke and thrusts a diet coke in my hands. I told him before that diet coke is only lower on calories but isn’t healthy. However, I let it go this time.
If there’s anything I learnt from being with Aiden, then it’s to pick my battles.
Right now, the most important battle is to know what the hell he has planned for Kim.
When I tried to slide in beside her, Aiden dragged me and sat me between his parted thighs.
He’s all around me and surrounding me. His chest hovers inches away from my back, but I can taste his scent mixed with the after-shower gel. Every breath I take is filled with his overpowering presence. He seeps under my skin and settles in my core with a harsh wave of lust. Aiden isn’t even touching me, but he doesn’t need to. It’s like he owned me since the first touch.
The air ripples with the promise of his skin on mine. I clench my thighs together and focus on the screen.
Today, Arsenal plays the most important games of the season in the European Champions League. If I were with Uncle, we’d be hotblooded Gunners cheering our hearts out like Xander and Ronan.
They jump like rabbits on crack, shouting and even kicking imaginary balls. They even speak in thick cockney accents that posh folks shouldn’t even have heard of. It must be due to mingling with other football fans.
I wonder if Aiden can speak cockney, too.
The theatre room fills with fan cheers, the commentators’ enthusiasm and Xander and Ronan’s fanatic madness.
Cole and Aiden are the calm types of audience. Cole says some ooh and aah’s, but he never moves from his position.
Kim sits beside me and Aiden with Cole on her other side, drinking her second — or third — beer.
She might be an Elites’ fan, but she doesn’t care much for the Premier League.
While Ronan and Xander shout, curse, and throw chips and snacks everywhere, Kim watches them with keen interest like they’re the game.
In a way, they make an entertaining show. When Arsenal is on the run, they kick balls with them. They throw imaginary free kicks and bump shoulders when something good happens.
I’m laughing by the time they sing along fan chants in an off-tune. Kim laughs, too, with her eyes half drooping. When she finishes her beer, Aiden pushes another one into her hand and she accepts it with a sloppy smile.
I cut him a glare. “Are you trying to get her drunk?”
His cold gaze remains on the screen, but he doesn’t appear all that interested in the game. “She’s already there.”
“Aiden.” My voice lowers as I half-turn so my back rests against his bent thigh. “What are you doing?”
His metallic gaze slides to me in a slow, predatory way. Just like that, Aiden’s loathsome, psycho side comes out to play. Just because I overlook his nature sometimes doesn’t mean it disappears.
“Do you agree to what I said earlier?”
“Not until you tell me why.” I thin my lips in a line to avoid lashing out on him and causing a scene.
“Wrong answer.” And just like that, his attention shifts back to the game.
I push away from him, but he traps my elbow in a deathly grip, forbidding my escape.
With a frustrated sigh, I scoot closer to Kim as much as his clutch allows.
Her navy blue striped dress reaches the middle of her thighs and is bunched at the bottom. A flush covers her cheeks and her pupils dilate. She’s definitely at the drunk stage.
I try to snatch her beer away. God knows what Aiden has put in it. I want to think that he wouldn’t hurt Kim and that he’s not the type to drug women, but he’s a psycho demon who doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.
Kim isn’t a person to him. She’s just a means to an end.