“Get some sleep.” Aiden rolled to his back, leaving his broad shoulders closer to touching me than they had been when he was on his side. “Maybe I’ll get you up early to watch the sunrise.”
And with that, he smiled and closed his eyes.
SIX
I did not sleep.
As tired as I was, I couldn’t. Sleeping in the same bed as Aiden Hunter was nothing like sleeping with my previous boyfriend. Zach was an attractive enough guy, but he had a slim and wiry frame—nothing like Aiden Hunter’s body. He took up a good half of the large bed just with his mass. It was impossible to ignore his presence. I was far too acutely, insanely aware of the glorious warm body beside me.
Strangely enough, I found I was a little disappointed that he hadn’t made a move on me. I wasn’t sure I was ready to have sex with him, but I was surprised he hadn’t at least tried for a little more making out. Did he change his mind? Maybe he already regretted asking me to come to Florida with him.
I lay there, listened to him breathe, and stole glances at his muscled chest and arms in the dim moonlight. I resisted the urge to run my hand over the artwork on his skin because I was afraid he’d wake up, and I’d be caught. Instead, I kept myself still and quiet as I watched him sleep. It was a long time before I finally drifted off.
In the moonlight, Aiden’s eyes open and he catches me watching him. He takes my hand and places it against his chest before slowly drawing my fingers over his inked skin all the way down to his navel. Without a word, he rolls over and pins me to the bed. He uses his leg to spread my thighs, and he’s heavy on top of me as he presses me against the mattress. He’s rough. He’s grunting as he moves on top of me, and I wrap my legs around him and hold on as tight as I can…
I was breathless as I woke from my dream. It was the middle of the night, and I found myself snuggled up against Aiden’s side with one arm tossed around his stomach. I’d driven Zach crazy and often out of the bed when we had been dating. He said cuddling made him hot and sweaty when I did that.
I was definitely sweaty and slightly out of breath. I remembered my dream and had to take a few slow breaths to calm my pounding heart before I allowed myself to move. As quietly as I could, I lifted my arm from Aiden’s waist and started to ease away from him. As I did, I heard Aiden move and felt his fingers tighten around my forearm.
“Don’t go,” he whispered in the darkness.
I froze momentarily and then looked up to his eyes. They were still closed.
“Why not?” I whispered back. I didn’t know if I would get an answer or not. I wasn’t sure if he was even awake.
“I like you here,” he replied simply as his eyes fluttered open. He tucked his arm under my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. “It’s nice having someone close again.”
“Again?” He didn’t answer. His eyes were closed now, and his breath was slow and steady. I rested my head against his shoulder and listened to him sigh as he settled back against the pillow.
Curled up against him, I inhaled his warm, musky scent and fell back to sleep. When I woke, there was sunlight coming through the window. I was still in the same basic position, and Aiden’s arm remained underneath me, holding me against him.
He was still sleeping, so I decided to ignore my bladder and just lie there for a while. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes again. Lying against Aiden was incredibly comfortable. It wasn’t just the physical closeness or the way our bodies seemed to mesh together so perfectly but more that sense of comfort and security I had felt with him since he put his arm around me at the airport.
I was warm, safe, and content.
He stirred slightly, and I tilted my head to watch him open his eyes. He blinked a few times, stretched the arm that wasn’t around me over his head, and his stomach muscles rippled.
“Hi there,” he said as he focused his eyes on mine.
“Hi,” I responded, suddenly feeling a little shy. It was ridiculous, but the feeling was there anyway.
“This is much better than the first morning I woke up like this,” Aiden remarked.
“Why is that?” I asked, smiling.
“Because today I get to make you breakfast.” He beamed as he wiggled his arm out from under me.
“You really like to cook, don’t you?”
“I do,” he said. “It’s a lot better to cook for someone else than just for yourself.”
I remembered what he had said in the small hours of the morning and wondered who else he used to have in his life.
“So, who did you used to cook for?” I asked.
“How do you like your eggs?” Aiden asked. “I could do omelets, too. Do you like omelets?”
“I love omelets.” I didn’t miss his avoidance but also didn’t ask again.
“How do you feel about Swiss cheese, green peppers, and mushrooms?”
“That sounds fantastic!”
He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of my knuckles just like he had the night before.
“It will be my pleasure.”
Breakfast was fabulous. The omelets were perfectly cooked and accompanied by fried potatoes and orange slices.
“I could get used to this,” I remarked. I sucked down another orange.
“I could, too.” Aiden smiled slightly before standing up and clearing away the dishes. “Want more?”
“Sure!”
He refilled our plates, and I kept eating despite the full feeling in my stomach. It was just that good. While we ate, we chatted about our favorite foods. I got up to refill our glasses of iced coffee, and Aiden leaned far back in his chair and rubbed his stomach through his T-shirt.
“Damn, I’m stuffed.” He looked down at his not-quite-finished half-omelet and moaned. “Can’t let it go to waste, though.”
“I’m stuffed, too,” I said, giggling.
He grinned his intoxicating grin at me. I looked away, and I saw my phone lying on the table.
“Oh yeah,” I said, “I was going to ask if you might have a phone charger I could borrow. I forgot mine.”
“What kind do you need?” he asked.
“I have an iPhone.”
“Hmm,” he mumbled. “I only have one for a Galaxy. We could go pick one up for you.”
“No, that’s okay,” I said, not wanting to be a bother. “I’ll just switch it off when I don’t need it.”
“Up to you.”
Despite being full, we ate everything Aiden had cooked and then took our coffee to the patio. On the beach, several people with tall fishing poles lined up near the water. Joggers dodged the fishing lines as they went by, and one hopeful teenager walked along the sand sweeping a metal detector in a wide arc.
“That same kid is out there every morning,” Aiden commented. “I see him pick things up out of the sand every once in a while, but I have to wonder if it’s really worth all the time he spends doing it. He’s got to find more roach clips than anything else.”
“Roach clips?”
Aiden looked at me skeptically.
“You don’t know what a roach clip is?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “What is it?”
Aiden smirked and leaned back in his chair, watching me closely.
“You really are quite the sheltered one, aren’t you?”
I glared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“You’re sweet,” he said. His smile softened. “That’s all it means.”
He went back to sipping his coffee.
“Are you going to tell me,” I asked, “or do I have to Google it?”
He reached up to scratch the back of his head as he looked toward the water.
“It’s slang for the little alligator clip people use to hold the end of a joint.”
“Oh.” I didn’t have another response. I looked down at the ice floating in my glass and bit down on my lip.
“Not your thing, is it?”
“What isn’t?”
“Weed.” Aiden tilted his head
as he looked at me.
“I’m all Clinton there,” I said with a wave of my hand.
“You’re what?”
“Like President Clinton,” I explained. “I tried it once in college, but as soon as I inhaled, I just started coughing. I didn’t bother to try again.”
Aiden chuckled briefly and then went quiet as he stared out at the teen on the beach. I finished my coffee and set the glass on the patio table with a slight thump. Aiden turned his head to the sound and then looked at me.
“So what would you like to do today?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’ve never been to Miami. What is there to do around here?”
“Everything,” Aiden replied. He stood up, affixed his red cap on his head, and reached for my hand. “A morning beach walk is a good place to start.”
We left our shoes on the patio and walked barefoot through the sand until we reached the edge of the water. The overnight tide had left chunks of coral and shells all over the sand, and I bent down to pick up a small, pink shell.
“Are you one of those seashell collectors?” Aiden asked.
“Yes,” I said with a blush. “When I was I kid, we would go to Myrtle Beach every couple of years. I always came back with a huge bag of them.”
“The pickings are a little slim around here,” he said. “There’s a sandbar about a hundred feet out, so most of the shells end up out there. There are some nice corals that make it this far.”
He was right about the lack of variety though there were plenty of tiny clamshells. I found a few pieces of what might have been oysters, but they were too broken to tell for sure. I kept a few of the more colorful ones in one hand as we strolled along the edge of the water.
“I think I see a good one.” I released Aiden’s hand and walked a few feet into the cold water to retrieve it. It was a little bigger than the ones I had seen on the shore and had green and blue all over the inside. The waves washed over my feet, disturbing the sand and revealing other shells. I bent over and pulled them out, too.
There was something about shell collecting that had always calmed me. The waves brushing over my feet had a nearly hypnotic effect, and I walked a little farther out to see what else I could find. The warmth of the wind countered the coolness of the water, making a perfect combination.
A gull swooped by and squawked, pulling me out of my shell-searching trance. I looked up, but Aiden wasn’t at the edge of the water any longer. I looked up and down the beach and finally saw him crouched near a mound of sand. I rubbed the sand off the shell and walked over to find him holding a small, green plastic shovel. He was staring at it intently, and his eyes seemed far away.
“What have you got there?” I asked.
Aiden jumped slightly before tossing the shovel back into the sand and standing.
“Nothing,” he replied. He looked at me and smiled. “Some kid left his shovel on the beach. You still collecting shells?”
“I found some really pretty ones,” I said.
He checked out my treasure.
“What are you going to do with them?”
“I have no idea.” I laughed. “I think I was always more about the collecting than making any use out of them. I’ve probably brought thousands home but never even glued them to a picture frame. I think Mom ended up throwing them out when she moved.”
“Why would she do that?”
“She threw out a lot of stuff, mostly my dad’s things. It was too much for her to try to move it all across the country.”
I squinted into the sunlight, remembering Mom’s face as she boxed up Dad’s clothes to take them to the Salvation Army. She’d remained stoic throughout the day, but it only took one glass of wine at dinner for her to melt down that evening.
“She got rid of all his things?” Aiden asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Well, except for a few keepsakes. I held on to some of the things that reminded me of him—mostly books and the little silver tray he always had on his dresser. He kept his watch and change on it.”
Aiden nodded, but his expression was strained.
“I don’t know how she did it,” Aiden said quietly. “Going through someone’s things like that and then getting rid of them all, everything they owned—it’s like it’s a part of them.”
“You have to,” I said. “Moving forward is part of the grieving process. If you don’t move forward, how do you ever get through the loss?”
Aiden looked at me for a long moment before he spoke.
“Maybe you don’t. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Life goes on,” I said. “You can’t live in the past as if the people you have lost are going to show up again someday. You keep them in your memories, but you can’t dwell on it.”
“Maybe sometimes you have to.” Aiden’s eyes darkened.
“What do you mean?”
“What if dwelling on it is the only thing that keeps you going? What if it’s the only way you can live with it?”
“Is that how it was with your dad?”
“My dad? Oh…” Aiden straightened and looked away for a moment. “Well, yeah. My mom left his den exactly like it was. It’s probably still like that.”
“Even now? Wasn’t that back when you were in school?”
“Yeah, it was my freshman year. I don’t know what she did with it all, but it’s probably still there. I left home right after I graduated, so I don’t know for sure.”
“You never went back?”
“Nope.”
“But she kept everything just like it was?”
“As far as I know. Like I said, she kinda went off the deep end at that point.”
“That’s not healthy,” I said.
“She’s not a healthy person,” Aiden agreed. “I don’t think I could have thrown out his stuff either. That just seems like…well, like I was trying to get rid of them, trying to forget.”
“You don’t forget.” I reached out and put my hand on his arm. “At the same time, you have to let go.”
I felt his arm tense under my fingers. For a minute, he seemed like he was going to say something but took a deep breath instead.
“Ready to find something fun to do?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied.
No doubt, Aiden was good at deflecting.
Aiden shoved his cap into one of the motorcycle bags and dug around in his garage until he found his extra helmet. A few minutes later, I found myself wrapped around him on the back of the motorcycle again. I didn’t want to admit it, but it still scared the hell out of me. With me on the back, I was pretty sure he wasn’t going as fast as he usually did, and I was grateful for it. As it was, we went plenty fast.
We rode to Oleta River State Park, and Aiden talked me into renting a kayak. He wanted us to each get our own, but I flat-out refused. I’d never paddled any kind of boat before, and I wasn’t about to start in an area known for alligators. We got one of those that fit two people, and Aiden did most of the actual work to move us around the canal.
Shortly after we left the dock, I was captivated by the scene around me, forgetting all about the potential appearance of large reptiles. The mangroves were beautiful, and Aiden told me everything I ever wanted to know about them.
“They actually live in the salt water,” he said. “Since their roots are all over the edge of the canal, they slow down the waves coming in from the ocean and help with erosion. They also make it a lot easier to navigate the water, and there’s a ton of sea life. See?”
Aiden slowed us down near a batch of mangrove roots and leaned over near the water. Just under the surface, three jellyfish bobbed about.
“Watch this,” Aiden said with big smile. He reached down and tapped the top of one of the jellyfish.
“Won’t it sting?” I asked.
“There aren’t any tentacles on the top,” he said. “Those are what can sting you. Watch what it does.”
I peered over the side, bracing myself as the tiny watercraft leaned with our
weight.
“You’re not going to fall out,” Aiden assured me. “Watch again.”
He tapped the top of the jellyfish with his index finger, and the little creature swirled around until it was upside down, reaching out toward the top of the water with its undulating tentacles.
“Is it trying to sting you?”
“Yep.” The jellyfish rolled back until it was right side up, and Aiden tapped at it again. Once more, it tried to reach for his finger by spinning upside down.
“They aren’t very bright,” Aiden remarked, “but a lot of fun to play with. You try it.”
“Me? Touch a jellyfish?”
“As long as you only touch the top, it doesn’t hurt. It feels kinda cool.”
“No way!”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?
“If anyone would end up getting stung, it would be me.”
“So you recognize that being stung is the worst possible outcome?”
“I guess so.” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.
“Have you ever been stung by a bee?”
“When I was a kid, yes.”
“And you lived?”
“Obviously.”
“Compared to these jellies, bee stings are worse,” Aiden said. “So, give it a shot. You know you’re going to live.”
I glared at him, but he just smiled back as he poked another one of the creatures. I took a deep breath, fairly certain he wasn’t going to let me get out of it, and reached out to touch the top part of the jellyfish’s body,
It was slimy.
“Eww!” I cried as I quickly pulled my hand out of the water. The jellyfish rolled onto its back to try to catch me. “It’s gross!”
Aiden laughed, causing the kayak to shake.
“I’ll show you gross,” he said. He picked up the paddle and maneuvered us closer to the mangrove roots. The water was shallow here, and I could see right to the bottom. Aiden looked over the side, moved us forward a little more, and then grabbed hold of one of the tree roots.
“There’s one,” he muttered. “Lean to your right a bit.”