Ayden

by Melissa Belle

  Once she’s out of sight, I turn on my father. “How dare you leave her when you promised you wouldn’t? You know how much she needs your honesty!” I get right up in his face, and his eyes widen. “You said you were in a support group and that you were trying! Why would you lie to her? She needs to learn she can trust you again, and when you let her down, it ruins every step forward she’s making!”

  “Bella.” Dad’s voice is shaky. “Listen to me. I’m sorry…”

  I hadn’t realized I’d begun crying until I feel the hot tears on my face. “I can never trust you to treat her right, can I?”

  Ayden wraps his arms around me from behind. “Bella. Honey. Let me take you home.”

  Dad reaches for my arm, but I jerk it away from him. “Bella. I should have been far more involved than I have been.”

  “So why haven’t you?” I say to him hotly. “I’ve been watching out for her since I was thirteen years old. Where were you? If you know you should have been there, why weren’t you?”

  “I couldn’t.” My father blows out a big breath and looks at the sky like it will have his answers. “I felt so guilty every time I looked at her. And when she’s in pain, like…”

  “Like on Tuesdays?” I say. “Yeah, that’s hard. It’s so fucking hard to see her suffering like that. But you wouldn’t really know, would you? You’ve never actually been there on a Tuesday. In three years, I haven’t seen you there once.”

  “Bella…” Dad reaches for me again, but I back up even more into Ayden, who holds me firmly against his chest.

  “You always have to work late on Tuesdays, Dad. And I always find the time to show up. When I’ve just worked a double shift and I haven’t slept in a day, when there’s a snowstorm and it’s the last thing in the world I want to do…Ayden and I show up. Whether he had a broken wrist from an accident on the job, or he was sick with the flu, Ayden hasn’t missed one Tuesday with me in three years—did you know that?”

  Dad’s gaze shifts above my head to Ayden. “No. I didn’t know that.”

  “Because you never cared to find out what the hell was going on in your own home. I tried to talk to you about it numerous times, and you always brushed me off. You always said you had it handled. And I always gave you a pass.” I sweep my arm toward the hospital building. “And now look where we are. Again.”

  “Bella, I’m sorry. You’re right. I can change. Right now.”

  Before I can tell him he’s a pathological liar, Ayden, his arms still around me, speaks. “It has to change, sir,” he says to my father. “I know you’re a busy man, but your daughter has been carrying this burden for years now. You’ve got two women in your life, and you’re ignoring both of them.”

  Dad shifts to face Ayden. “Ayden, this isn’t your business.”

  “Like hell it’s not.” Ayden’s arms tighten around me, and I lean back against him, suddenly realizing how exhausted I am. “Bella is my business. That makes this situation my business. And she deserves to be treated right.”

  As my father and Ayden stand across from each other in deadlocked silence, the vein on my father’s forehead gets so big I think it may explode. His eyes travel from Ayden’s arms around me, to my face, and back to Ayden, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of him. They seem to engage in some sort of wordless conversation before my father lets out a deep breath.

  “You’re right,” he says. “And I’m trying. But I obviously need to try harder. I will.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I stop crying and hold it together as we say goodbye to my father, walk to Ayden’s car, and then drive through the city and into Lucky Bay. I stay calm when we stop by Grandpa’s so I can fill him in on Mom’s situation. Grandpa takes it well, holding me close to him when he hears how I had to call 911.

  “You saved her,” he says, his eyes watery. “If you hadn’t picked up the phone…”

  “I’ll always pick up the phone,” I say to him as I kiss his cheek. “Always.”

  Promising to keep him updated, Ayden and I say goodbye and walk to his car.

  As we back out of my grandfather’s driveway, my tears come again. Ayden stops the car by the docks, in perfect view of the lighthouse, and takes me onto his lap in the driver’s seat.

  “Let it out, Bella,” he says as he strokes my hair. “I’m right here.”

  “You know what’s strange?” I wipe my eyes and look at him. “This sounds awful, but for the first time in years, I actually feel…relaxed. Relieved, almost.”

  “Do you know why?” he asks me.

  I do know. And it’s awful to admit, but…

  “Because I know she’s safe. Someone else is taking care of her for once, and I know that at least for this one stretch of time, she can’t hurt herself.”

  “You can’t be held responsible for her life like that,” Ayden says. “It’s far too much of a load, Bella.”

  “I don’t know what else to do. No one else will help her.”

  He kisses my head. “Maybe someone else will. Maybe this whole horrible experience will turn into something positive.”

  I glance out the window at the lighthouse. “It’s always been my touchstone,” I say. “Despite...”

  “It’s okay,” Ayden whispers. “I don’t think the lighthouse should have saved my father. A storm’s a storm.”

  “The lighthouse is supposed to be a beacon for the boats,” I say softly.

  “Nothing’s foolproof.”

  No, I guess not.

  Ayden drives me home and insists on walking me to my front step.

  “Thank you,” I say to him, my voice a bare whisper.

  “Can I come inside?”

  “I’m not going to be very good company, Ayd. I really need to sleep.”

  “Let me sleep with you.” His eyes are stark with pain. “Please?”

  Something shifts between us, and the air goes thick with years of things unsaid.

  I love you.

  “Okay,” I say quietly. “Come on in.”

  We don’t speak as I pull back the covers. Ayden takes off his jeans, but leaves on his t-shirt and boxers. I change in the bathroom into a clean t-shirt and pajama bottoms, and when I come out, he’s already under the covers.

  I slip in next to him, trying to make sure I don’t touch him.

  But he growls when I turn my back on him, and before I know it, he’s shifted me so my head is resting on his chest. His steady heartbeat settles me immediately; just the feeling of someone so alive and present with me is a relief.

  “How are you doing, B?” he says in a low tone.

  “I’m okay.” I clear my throat. “Ayden. I can’t thank you enough. For being there for me last night when I called...”

  “You know you don’t have to thank me.”

  “I know. But I still think it’s important to let you know how much I appreciate you, Ayd.”

  He kisses my head. “I already know that, Bella. Get some sleep.”

  I can’t imagine being able to sleep with Ayden Wild in my bed. Besides, I haven’t had a moment to process the last twenty-four hours, and I need a little time to accept that my mother just overdosed for the second time in three years. Yes, it could have been a whole hell of a lot worse. Yes, I’m not naïve to how fortunate she is that she actually caught herself in the act of doing something self-harming.

  But the fact is…my mother is unwell and needs help. I knew this, but last night took away any optimistic thoughts that she was just going to sail into happiness and bliss.

  All these thoughts churn through my mind while Ayden rubs soothing circles over my back…between the dichotomy of his warm body and my overactive brain, I’m sure I’ll be awake for hours.

  But I haven’t slept for over a day, and the need for rest takes over everything else.

  Something’s beeping.

  I reach over to my nightstand and bat at the culprit.

  When it beeps again, I realize it’s my phone.

  Ayden’s arm is still wrapped around
me, and he hasn’t budged. I take a moment to look at his long dark lashes and lips slightly parted. I brush his hair off his forehead, resisting the urge to kiss it.

  I reach out to grab my phone and glance over at the clock.

  Three o’clock. We slept the day away.

  Not wanting to wake Ayden, I slip out of bed and head for the bathroom, where I sit on the tile floor and check my messages.

  Tari texted. Honey, how are you? Ayden filled us in on everything last night. If you want to come by for an early dinner, Peter and I are cooking.

  Dad left a voicemail to let me know the good news that Mom is already home. At Dr. Thibbs’s urging, Dad’s hired a psychiatric live-in nurse to stay with them until Mom’s stable, and Dr. Thibbs already has Mom started on a new medication that she thinks will help with her mood swings. Mom has agreed to intense individual therapy, and my parents are going to start couples therapy this week.

  A wave of nausea hits me with no warning. Even though I’m not sick. Not physically anyway. Emotionally, I’ve been holding onto old hurts for a while.

  And the memories bombard my mind—

  The image of my mother’s face when the P.I. showed her the photos of dad and what’s-her-face coming out of the hotel.

  The gut-wrenching sounds of my mom crying in bed like she was going to die.

  The decision I made then and there to never hurt like that, to never put myself in a position to hurt like that.

  All of it rushes through me in waves.

  And I take it all. For the first time, I feel it all. And once I’ve sat with all that pain, I’m certain of one thing—

  My forever plus one could only ever be one man.

  It’s always only ever been one man.

  He’s been with me from the beginning, and if I want to see where we could go together, I’m going to have to risk everything.

  A knock on the bathroom door makes me jump. “Bella?”

  I stand and go open the door to Ayden, who’s never looked as gorgeous to me as he does right now. Hair sticking up, his eyes bleary with sleep, he reaches out to touch my bare arm. “You all right?”

  I smile. “I am.”

  His eyes lock onto mine. “Good.”

  I tell him about my father’s message, and then mention Tari’s invitation. “Are you up for dinner?”

  “I’m starved,” he says. “If you want to go to their house, I’m happy to; if not, we can order in here.”

  “I think I’d like the company.”

  Tari pulls me into a hug the moment Ayden and I arrive at her and Peter’s house.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry about all of this,” she says. “Thank God your mom’s okay.”

  Peter kisses my cheek and ushers me onto the couch. “Take a seat, Bella. You must be dead on your feet.” His eyes widen. “Fuck. I’m sorry. That’s an awful thing to say.”

  I wave him off. “No worries. It’s just a figure of speech. I’m fine.”

  Tari immediately brings Ayden and me each a plate of baked salmon and mashed potatoes. “Start with this, and there’s plenty more if you want it.”

  Within minutes, the four of us are relaxing over dinner.

  “Bella, how are things going?” Tari asks me.

  I fill them in on my father’s phone message.

  “So basically, my parents will be talking to a shrink practically every day of the week,” I say.

  “Hey, sometimes people need to get out their pain before they can move forward,” Tari says. “What about your dad’s party? Did you cancel it?”

  “You would think they would, right? But no, they’re going forward with it. And Dr. Thibbs gave her blessing. She thinks it’s something for them to look forward to together.”

  “And your cousins are flying in soon for your dad’s memorial party, right Ayd?” Peter confirms.

  “Yeah,” Ayden says. “I’m meeting them at my house in a couple hours. With everything going on, I nearly forgot.”

  “I can’t believe your dad’s party is tomorrow night,” I say.

  Ayden turns to me. “You shouldn’t go, Bella. After everything you’ve been through…”

  “Nothing could make me miss your dad’s memorial party,” I say. “So don’t even try to talk me out of it, Ayd, because I never for one second considered not going.”

  Ayden’s eyes turn green. “Bella…”

  “I’m your date, and that’s that.”

  He reaches over and tugs at my hair. “Christ, you’re stubborn.”

  I break into a smile. “So it’s settled then.” I turn back to Tari and Peter, who are focused intensely on their meals. “We’re finished with our discussion. Sorry for the interruption.”

  Tari giggles. “You two are pretty hot when you’re arguing.”

  I give her a look. “Tar…”

  “So,” Peter says quickly. “How about we make it easier for you, Ayd, and we’ll all camp out on the beach tomorrow after the party for your dad?”

  “Sounds great,” I say. “Except I don’t have a tent.”

  “I have a few, and I know Michael could lend me his,” says Ayden. “But that will only be enough for all my cousins.” He turns to me. “Dylan said something about Jasalie maybe coming with him and surprising you.”

  I shriek. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

  “To surprise you, B.” He chuckles. “I ruined the moment, though. I just know you’ve had enough surprises this summer. Especially lately.”

  “I have,” I say softly. “I appreciate you thinking of me like that.”

  “So that means even more people,” Ayden says to Peter. “I definitely don’t have enough tents.”

  “Tar and I have an extra one we can lend you two.” Peter points to Ayden and me, and my stomach immediately clenches.

  After the night I had, being turned on feels inappropriate. But nothing seems to be able to dowse my attraction to Ayden this summer, and the thought of being alone in a tent with him all night has my hormones soaring.

  “Camping out will be so much fun,” Tari says.

  “It’s romantic, baby.” Peter kisses her cheek. “Do you guys mind waiting for five minutes while we go find the tent for you?”

  I’m already leaning my head back against the couch cushions. “Take your time.”

  What was supposed to take five minutes in the den turns out to be a half hour, and by then, they’re both in the garage, still trying to find their extra tent.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ayden turns his cap backward, the way he knows I like it and rests his arm over the back of the couch, right behind where I’m sitting.

  “I give up,” he says.

  My face must fill with the alarm I feel because Ayden touches my cheek. “Not like that, Bella,” he clarifies. “I mean I give up on the dare. I’m not going to try to find a plus one.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. You want to know why?”

  The air around us is now so thick with tension I swear I could reach out and touch it.

  “Because I don’t need to search for my forever plus one. I found her a long time ago.”

  My heart climbs into my throat. “Ayd…”

  “You’re mine, Bella. You’re my plus one.” He takes my hand in his, and I try to pull away because mine is all sweaty. But he holds on until I stop fighting him.

  Before I have time to realize what’s happening, he leans in toward me. His mouth lands on my neck, and he kisses the skin lightly. Oh, Lord. My stomach flip flops, and I clutch at Ayden’s hand like it’s a lifeline. He trails a line of kisses up to my jaw, and then he pulls back slightly. His eyes meet mine, and I inhale at how liquid blue his are. Before I can say anything, he tips his forehead to mine.

  He’s going to kiss me on the mouth. But before I can be sure, the front door rattles and opens.

  I jump but don’t shift my gaze away from Ayden.

  “Okay,” I hear Peter say. “So this tent should work—whoa! Sorry, I didn’t—” There�
��s a loud crash like he’s dropped something. “Holy fuck. Are you two—”

  “Yes,” Ayden snaps, his eyes never leaving my face. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Sure thing. Take your time. I’ll go back to the garage. With Tar,” he adds, and I nearly laugh at how jazzed up he sounds.

  The door shuts, and silence fills the room.

  Ayden’s thumb caresses my jaw. “Let’s go to your house,” he says in a rough tone. “That way, it’ll just be us.”

  “Okay. Yes.” I get up off the couch. My neck is cold where his mouth just was, and my legs are as shaky as the first time I stood up on stage alone.

  I hurry to the door, assuming Ayden’s right behind me when—

  “Oomph.” I freaking trip on something and fall face first onto the floor.

  Ayden’s squatting down beside me then, helping me to a sitting position and checking me for injuries. Because apparently Peter was as shocked by what he witnessed as I am right now, and he dropped the tent in the middle of the foyer.

  I stand up quickly, murmuring an, “I’m fine. Let’s just go.”

  We’ve just started the short drive to my house when Ayden speaks.

  “I remember how you want our first kiss since we were thirteen to be at your front door.” His tone is calm and even, giving nothing away.

  What?!

  I whip my head to face him, but he doesn’t expand on his comment.

  And I have no idea where he’s getting that kind of intel.

  When we pull into my driveway, Ayden parks and is around to my side before I’ve even opened my door. He holds out his hand and helps me out of the car. We walk up my front steps together, and when we get to the top, I turn toward him.

  “How do you know that? About the kiss?”

  He faces me, leaning casually against the door. “You told me once.”

  I furrow my brow. “I did?”

  He nods. “One night when you called from L.A. You’d performed that night, but you had a few shots after you got off stage. You were drunk, and that’s why you don’t remember.”

  Oh, God. “What did I say, Ayd?”

  “You asked me if I ever thought about kissing you again. I said, ‘all the time.’ Something about the way you asked me, you got me to admit what I always denied, even to myself. You said you thought about it too. You said you’d imagined every detail of how you would want it to play out.” He reaches out and wraps his hand around the ends of my hair, gently pulling me closer. “You wanted our kiss to be slow but hard. And you had a fantasy of me grabbing you on your front step, pressing you against your closed door, and kissing the shit out of you.”