“You’ve been acting like this around Mason a lot,” I state matter-of-factly.
He studies me, opens his mouth, but then hesitates.
“Just tell me.” I decide for him.
“Mason’s basically in love with you, Thea.”
What? Of everything he could’ve said, I didn’t expect that.
“What are you talking about?”
He uncrosses his arms and strides across the room to sit facing me on the bed.
“It’s incredibly obvious to everyone except you,” he says gently.
I blink at him. “But literally two days ago, he brought Erin back to his room and did God knows what with her.”
“Because he knows you’re with me. He can’t help how he feels, though.”
I’ve had suspicions, but with Aiden confirming it now, I don’t know how to feel. Should I say something to Mason? That’s just awkward. Should I ignore it and act like I always have with him? I don’t want things to change with us; he’s, like, my best friend. And how can I possibly say something to him when I still can’t look him straight in the eye without guilt gnawing at my stomach?
“Is that why you get all jealous around him?”
“I don’t get jealous around him.” He defends himself quickly.
I feel a corner of my lip curve up in a smile. “You totally do.”
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I just … I’ve never felt like this before. It’s weird seeing my best friend trying to put moves on my girl.”
Oh my God. Is Aiden Parker insecure? I didn’t think that was an emotion he even felt. And over me? Of all things? My pulse racing, I crawl into his lap, and his arms automatically go around my waist as he gazes down at me.
“It’s you for me, Aiden.”
He lowers his head and kisses me like he’s suffocating and I’m the air he needs to survive, his arms tightening, pulling me closer to him until I don’t know where he starts and I end. We end up tangled in his sheets, his kisses on my neck doing things to my nerve ends I have only dreamed about.
When he comes to kiss my lips again, I can’t help what happens next: I yawn right in his face. My eyes widen in embarrassment, the mood totally killed. But instead of rolling off of me in disgust, Aiden laughs.
“Guess we should get some sleep,” he says, moving so fluidly t
hat he ends up under me, with his hard chest as my pillow.
“Aren’t you gonna kick me out so you can get some sleep?” I tease.
He kisses my forehead so sweetly that my heart nearly explodes. “No, I’m comfortable just like this.”
Whether it’s the alcohol, the late hour, the new revelation, or Aiden’s reassuring presence, I fall into a peaceful sleep as soon as he wraps a strong arm around my waist and pulls me close.
14
I wake up the next morning expecting to find Aiden’s heavy but comforting arm wrapped around my waist, but the bed is empty. Trying to ignore the sense of longing as I sit up, I rub the sleep from my eyes. It’s only six o’clock, and Aiden isn’t in the room at all. I wonder if the twins are up and ready to open their presents.
When I slide out of bed, the early morning chill hits me all at once, and I slip into a sweater Aiden left on the edge of his bed. Snuggling into it, I resist the urge to smell it like a total psychopath, but it totally has the alluring smell that’s distinctly Aiden.
When I get out of his en suite bathroom, he walks into the room at the same time, a tray in one hand and a present in the other. “Hey, Merry Christmas.”
I sit cross-legged on his bed as he closes the door and smile at him, eyeing the items in his hands.
“Merry Christmas,” I reply. “Did Santa come last night?”