Aiden’s body starts to relax and he puts his arms around me. I distantly register people having a conversation behind me, so I pull back slightly but keep my arms around Aiden’s waist. I look questioningly in his eyes and he nods slightly, indicating that he’s okay.
Reluctantly, I pull away from him, but he keeps one arm around me and firmly holds me to his side. My touch seems to have a calming effect on him, and I subconsciously sink into his side, loving the sparks I feel when I touch him.
We face everyone else, and I see that the raspy voice that broke up the fight belongs to a short, bulky guy with tattoo sleeves and short, dark hair. He must be at least five foot two, shorter even than me, but looks to be in his mid to late twenties. He’s talking to Ryan in a professional manner, Mason standing beside him. This must be Jonesy, and Mason finally brought him over like Aiden instructed. Although short, Jonesy has a commanding air that makes it clear that he’s capable of sort of running this thing.
We walk back to the group, Aiden already having slipped into his businesslike attitude.
“So, is there a race happening or what?” Jonesy asks.
Aiden’s eyes lock back onto Ryan’s. “If he’s not afraid of facing me.”
“You’re on, asshole.”
“All right!” Jonesy announces excitedly. “You know the drill, cash up front before the race. How much is it going to be tonight? Standard entrance fee of three hundred?”
Ryan gives an empty, cold laugh. “The entrance fee is for pussies. How about we up it a couple grand?”
Aiden’s face doesn’t reveal anything. “You sure you can afford that?”
Ryan scoffs and gives a malicious smirk. “I’m going to enjoy taking two grand from you.”
I tug on Aiden’s shirt with the hand that’s resting on his back beneath his leather jacket, trying to signal not to bet that much money. I know the Boys said he never loses, but there’s always a chance. Plus, he’s doing this in part to get back at Ryan for vandalizing my car. I know that this rivalry goes way d
eeper than just me and my car, but I still don’t want Aiden to risk that much money because of me.
He ignores me and says, “Let’s do this then.”
“Great!” Jonesy says, visibly excited. Aiden told me that Jonesy doesn’t get anything from the racers’ entrance fee, but he gets a cut from everyone who bets on them. He’s probably going to make a lot of money from having the two rivals finally face one another.
“Go get ready and meet me at the starting line in your cars, with your money, in fifteen minutes! Let’s have a clean race, boys!” Jonesy hurriedly turns around, going back to hype everyone up and take bets for probably the most anticipated race of the year.
Walking back to the group with Aiden and Mason is tense, to say the least. Aiden is seriously out of his mind. The difference between being two thousand dollars richer or poorer depends on a five-minute race against Satan’s spawn.
Before we get to the group, Aiden tugs on my hand and brings us to a halt. “I need a minute with Amelia. Tell everyone what’s going on and we’ll be there soon,” Aiden instructs Mason, who nods and heads back to the group.
Aiden releases my hand and looks at me with a . . . guilty expression? I’ve never seen him with a guilty look before. The difference in his whole demeanor is strikingly obvious now that we’re in private, and I forget how he acts differently with me than with everyone else. He has his guard down, letting me read his emotions, which is remarkably different compared to the guarded, stoic, impassive Aiden he was just now in front of the Silvers.
This is real. This is Aiden. He feels comfortable enough around me to let his guard down and let me in. And the scary part about it? I’m not even sure if he consciously knows that he’s doing it.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks softly.
“I’m not mad, but two grand is a lot of money, Aiden! That’s money you could use for university or your brothers or—”
“No, not that.” He waves me off. “I mean that I broke my promise.”
I freeze, finally registering what he means and why he looks guilty. “I told you I wouldn’t fight and I almost caused one anyway. I just—he just—I had to.”
I can’t. I can’t handle this. If he gets any more amazing my heart will explode. My body moves on its own accord, and I step closer to him.
“Of course I’m not mad at you,” I reply honestly. “I don’t need to know all the details to know that he deserved that one.”
“Ryan’s dad is my stepfather, and he’s my stepbrother, and I hate him, but you probably already guessed that.”
Deep down, I knew, but thought if I didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t have to be true—like if you ignore something long enough it will just go away. The thought of Aiden having to deal with a monster like Ryan because his mom married Ryan’s dad when they were kids makes me ache for him. I nod, never breaking eye contact with him, never letting go.
I especially don’t want to think about their history or what Ryan meant when he said that the men in his family are known to “beat” Aiden. I don’t want to acknowledge the possible double meaning, and what that would mean about Aiden’s childhood. I don’t want to think about the fact that Ryan’s dad, Greg, is in jail, and the possible atrocities that a young Aiden would have had to face to make him the guarded, stoic man he is today. It just hurts too much to think about that.
“So we’re okay?” he says, gently.