Play On

by Samantha Young

  Even though he appeared to genuinely mean it, I ignored the comment. “No, it’s not that. It’s just there’s this kid at the hospital and I’ve grown fond of her, but her guardian—her uncle—he’s pestering me with all these questions about myself. I get it, because I’m spending time with the kid once a week, but I’m not comfortable divulging information about myself to this person. We have lunch after my time with the kids, and he interrogates me. I’m trying to avoid it but I’m coming off totally rude. I thought maybe you might have some advice on how I can be vague without making him want to stop Sylvie—his niece—from spending time with me.”

  He studied me thoughtfully. “What age is he? The guardian?”

  “Thirty-four. Why?” A knowing glint entered his eyes and I shook my head. “It’s not like that.” Even to my own ears, it sounded like a lie. But it wasn’t. Aidan Lennox was not attracted to me like I was attracted to him.

  Roddy’s gaze drifted over my face. “He tryin’ tae spend time wi’ ye?”

  “His kid is, so he is.”

  “He doesnae have tae, though.”

  “She lost her mom. His sister. He’s protective.”

  “Aye. But anyone can dae a wee bit diggin’ tae get pertinent information about the person spendin’ time wi’ their kid. He doesnae need tae have lunch wi’ ye and ask ye.”

  Roddy had it all wrong. “It’s not like that.”

  “Nora,” he seemed aggravated, “it’s you, so I’d be surprised if it wisnae like that. Ye want tae ken why Petra kens it isnae serious wi’ us? First, I told her if she wanted in ma bed, it wis temporary. And from that point on, I never ask her any questions about herself other than ‘Did ye have a gid day at work?’ ‘Dae ye want a drink?’ and ‘Dae ye want me tae fuck ye harder?’”

  I scowled at his bluntness. “You’re a real prince, Roddy.”

  “Whit I’m sayin’ is, a guy doesnae ask a woman about herself unless he really wants tae ken. And he usually only really wants tae ken because he also wants tae ken what she sounds like when she comes.”

  This was Roddy unfiltered, without Jim there to smack him across the head for talking like that in front of me. Weirdly, it was nice that Roddy could be his wonderful, uncouth self around me, and it be okay. That we could be truly comfortable with each other.

  I immediately felt guilty for enjoying it.

  Roddy misunderstood my expression. “Ye’er allowed tae want that, Nora. Tae move on. There’s nothin’ wrong wi’ lettin’ this guy get tae ken ye. Answer his fuckin’ questions if ye want tae.”

  “It’s not like that,” I insisted. “Aidan is older, cultured, experienced. I think he looks at me as this strange kid he’s worried his kid is spending time with.”

  My friend’s gaze dropped to my chest in an undecidedly friendly way before moving back up to my face. “He doesnae see ye as a kid.”

  “How do you know?” I huffed at his arrogance.

  “Because I’m a man. I ken these things.”

  Exasperated, I shook my head. Coming to Roddy for advice was a bad idea. His blunt honesty and male perspective had only confused me.

  I changed the subject. “Seonaid is dating someone new. Zach. He’s your age.”

  He stared determinedly at his food, although he couldn’t hide the flex of his jaw muscle as he ground his teeth. After a few seconds, he gritted out, “Another nice guy?”

  “No, I think she’s taking a break from nice guys. Zach is for sex. Lots of stamina, that one.” I smiled to myself as I watched his fingers curl tightly around his fork and knife. Maybe it was mean of me, but Roddy Livingston was the most straightforward guy I’d ever met. There was absolutely no excuse for him not to tell Seonaid how he felt about her. If he didn’t want other guys sleeping in her bed, then he needed to man up and do something about it.

  Suddenly, I was staring straight into Roddy’s angry eyes.

  Guilt punched out my smugness. “Roddy—”

  “I ken what ye’er doin’,” he seethed. “So let’s make a deal right here and now. I won’t push ye tae move on fae Jim, and ye won’t push me aboot Seonaid, and that means no rubbin’ who she’s fuckin’ in ma face. I get enough o’ that fae her.”

  I didn’t want to agree to that. I wanted to know why he felt like he couldn’t tell her how he felt. Couldn’t he see that there was possibility there? Didn’t he see how jealous she got of Petra and the women who had come before her?

  Yet, I couldn’t prod at the subject because that would give him license to prod at my relationship with Jim and all my hang-ups because of it.

  I nodded, apology in my eyes, and watched him relax.

  “So,” he said after a minute of silence, “Angie wants us aw tae have Sunday lunch together soon. Ye up for it?”

  I couldn’t go on avoiding Angie forever. It wasn’t fair to her. At least this way, I’d have Seonaid and Roddy there as buffers between me and her rose-tinted view of my relationship with her son.

  “Sure. Sounds good.”

  I was in the middle of making the kids laugh as I read the first chapters of the second Harry Potter book when the common room door creaked open and Aidan appeared, throwing me an apologetic look. My pulse skittered at the sight of him, but I continued to read on, even as he got in Sylvie’s eye line and gestured for her to come to him. She did so reluctantly, and then I heard her say, “But I want to stay.”

  That stopped me. I lowered my book. “Everything okay?” I called over to them.

  Aidan straightened from being on his haunches, his hand on Sylvie’s shoulder. “Sylvie’s dad is on his way. He’s got the rest of the day off and wants to spend time with her.”

  “Oh.” Disappointed I wouldn’t have my lunch with her, I nodded. “Well, of course.”

  “But I want to stay,” Sylvie said, looking as disappointed as I felt.

  I walked over to her and gave her a reassuring smile. “I bet your dad has a great day planned for you. And we’ll see each other soon.”

  “Can’t I stay until the end?”

  I looked up at Aidan and if I wasn’t mistaken, he was annoyed. Not at me but at Sylvie’s dad. He shook his head.

  “I think your dad is on his way right now, sweetie.”

  Her lip trembled and I thought my stoic little Sylvie might cry. However, she shook it off in a gesture that was so adult, it was unsettling. As though she were used to shaking off sad things and moving on quickly. “Okay. Next week?”

  Again, I looked to Aidan for confirmation. He nodded and I smiled down at her. “Next week.”

  She hugged me and then took her uncle’s hand. “Bye,” I said to him too. He gave me a frustrating nod of acknowledgment, and nothing more.

  I bit my lip at the feeling of deflation that came over me when they left. Even though I knew better, I’d let Roddy’s opinion get to me. I’d started to think maybe he was right and Aidan had other reasons for wanting to get to know me. Maybe the sexual tension wasn’t all one-sided.

  However, the fact that he could walk away from the few hours we spent together every week without seeming disappointed at all knocked me back down to earth.

  I longed for Sylvie and Aidan like they were something I was addicted to.

  Sylvie seemed to feel the same.

  Aidan, however, probably really did see me as the slightly nutty young woman his kid had developed a surprising attachment to.

  With them gone, I tried to get my head back in the game. I threw all my energy into acting out the book in my hand. I was good at pretending, so none of the kids were aware of my sadness as they laughed, gasped, and leaned in close to hear more about Harry and his friends.

  After Jan came in to wrap up our time together, I said goodbye to everyone and got permission from Jan to use Aly’s bathroom to change in. Aly had her own private room, one that she was in more and more the sicker she got. I didn’t know how much longer she’d be attending my readings. That sweet kid was going to get worse before she got better.

  I chan
ged in her bathroom before Jan brought her back in, and then said goodbye to the nurses. The city had emptied of festival-goers, and I was contemplating buying a smoothie from the nearby Meadowlark Café when the sight of Aidan standing outside the hospital drew me to a stop.

  He was on the phone and hadn’t seen me approach yet. What was he still doing here? Where was Sylvie?

  I’m not going to lie—I thought about hurrying by him before he noticed me. I was unnerved by the way my heart galloped away from me anytime he was in the vicinity.

  But he looked up, our eyes locked, and the whole world stood still. All I could hear was the rushing of blood in my ears.

  And then Aidan telling whoever was on the phone that he had to go. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and walked over to me, stopping inside my personal space. I had to tilt my head to maintain eye contact.

  “What are you still doing here? Did Sylvie’s dad come get her?”

  Aidan nodded. “Aye. Thought I’d wait for you, though. See if you wanted to grab lunch.”

  Shocked, I could only stare at him in reply. And then Roddy’s voice was in my head, telling me that Aidan was clearly interested in me. I couldn’t understand why someone older, sophisticated, gorgeous, and successful would be interested in me. And yes, I knew that didn’t say much for my self-esteem, but it was how I felt.

  Before meeting him, I felt like I’d lived more years than I had. I was weary and tired and life had felt too much like a fight.

  Then Aidan came along and he made me feel like I hadn’t seen anything of the world at all.

  We were very different people, and I had no doubt wanting him was a bad idea … but my heart was racing, my skin was tingling, and there was a flurry of excitement in my belly. I felt alive. Awake. For the first time in forever, I felt anticipation fizzing inside of me and I didn’t want to lose that feeling yet.

  “That sounds good.”

  I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw relief flicker in his expression. But then it was gone and I only saw tension. “Are you sure you’re okay? Is it Sylvie’s dad?”

  “This way,” he said instead, and I followed him to his SUV.

  He opened the passenger door for me, something no guy had done for …well, ever … and I stood a little stunned by the gentlemanly action and how much I liked it.

  “Nora?”

  I looked up into his questioning eyes and hid my reaction with a smirk. “Just wondering if it’s smart of me to get into a car alone with a strange, older man.”

  Aidan fought a smile. “You had to get that ‘older’ comment in again, didn’t you?”

  Laughing, I stepped into the SUV, and he closed the door gently behind me. The car was spacious and luxurious inside. I’d never been in a Range Rover before and marveled at the comfort and style. It smelled of new leather too.

  So, this was how the other half lived.

  The driver’s door opened and unlike tiny me, Aidan slid into his seat. His seat was pushed way back to allow room for his long legs. Once he was clipped in, he put the car into drive and my eyes locked on his hands as they relaxed against the steering wheel. Like the rest of him, his hands were big, but they were definitely musician’s hands. Long-fingered, big-knuckled, but elegant somehow. A deep flip low in my belly made me squirm in embarrassment.

  How could a guy’s hands turn me on so much?

  “Cal is trying to spend more time with Sylvie.”

  Jolted out of my sexual meanderings, I focused on his words because they were important. “Do you think that’s a bad thing?”

  “No.” But his grip tightened momentarily on the steering wheel. “No.”

  “Something about it is bothering you.”

  We stopped at a red light, and Aidan looked at me. “I want stability for her. I worry that change right now could hurt her.”

  “Change, how?”

  “Seeing her dad more. Right now, he gets her two days every second week. But lately he’s been calling whenever he’s free and asking to see her.”

  I wasn’t sure it was a bad thing that her dad was getting his head out of his ass and making an effort to see his kid, but I understood where Aidan was coming from. It was only a year ago that she’d lost her mom. “Maybe you guys should talk about it.”

  “Aye, maybe.”

  Silence fell over the car and I could tell he was lost in his thoughts about it. Wanting to leave him to muse, I watched traffic. And then I realized we were driving out of the city center. “So … where are we eating?”

  “There’s a pub right on the promenade at Portobello Beach. It’s a nice day. I thought we should enjoy it while it’s here.”

  That was something people said a lot around here. Scottish summers were mercurial beasts, with more rain than anything else. So when the sun came out, we appreciated and made the most of it.

  “Sounds good.”

  With Jim, I’d been comfortable with him from the start. Silence fell between us and I’d never felt the need to fill it. Similarly, with Aidan, the silence between us didn’t bother me. But the atmosphere between us wasn’t comfortable. I was too aware of his every movement, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he drove us east to Portobello.

  “Sylvie cares about you,” Aidan said suddenly.

  Warmth filled me at the thought. “I care about her. I won’t hurt her, Aidan.”

  He glanced at me, his expression sincere. “I know that now, Nora.”

  Relief moved through me. “Thank you.”

  “I just want her to be okay.”

  “It would be expected if she wasn’t,” I told him. “She lost her mom. You can protect her from everything, but you can’t protect her from that loss, and thinking that you can is only going to make you feel like you’ve failed somehow. And you’re not failing.”

  He was quiet so long, I thought maybe my presumption had pissed him off. But he said, “How did you get so wise?”

  When it comes to loss, I know what I’m talking about. I didn’t say it out loud. “Born that way, I guess.”

  Not too long later, Aidan parked on a street facing the water. The sun glinted off the waves in the distance and I could see the promenade was busy with people eating lunch, walking their dogs, or just hanging out. The salty sea air immediately put me and everyone else in a good mood. It was a little past one o’clock so people were on lunch breaks, but with how busy the beach was, you’d think it was a weekend day.

  “Do you think we’ll get a table?” I said. He insisted on opening my door and taking my hand to help me down.

  Warm, calloused skin slid over mine and I drew in a breath at the sparks of electricity that danced up my arm. My eyes flew to his. Our eyes locked.

  Did he feel it too?

  As if I’d asked the question aloud, he squeezed my hand and closed the door once I was out of the car. To my shock, he kept holding my hand, leading me down the street toward the promenade.

  “I called ahead,” he said. “I know a guy who works at the pub.”

  I hurried to match his long strides, my heart banging hard inside my chest as I stared up at him. Feeling my gaze, he looked down and gave me a quizzical smile.

  “What is it, Pixie?”

  I decided to be honest. “You’re holding my hand.”

  His smile transformed into that sexy one that cut me off at the knees every single time. “So I am.”

  He didn’t let go.

  I bit my lip to stop the girlish giggle that wanted to escape. “Is there a reason for that?”

  “So you don’t fly off to Neverland, of course.” He winked.

  I laughed. “Cute. Very cute.”

  Aidan stopped to push open the door to the pub, his beautiful eyes filled with laughter.

  I let him lead me inside. There was an area, a few steps up from the bar on our right, with tables at bay windows overlooking the water. The place was packed, no tables free at all.

  “Uh …” A young woman with bright blue eyes and short, white-blond hair gl
anced at the seating and then back at us. “It’s about a thirty-minute wait right now.”

  “Where’s Giggsy?” Aidan asked.

  “Right here, mate.” We turned to watch a guy walking down a passageway by the bar. When he reached us, his eyes flicked to Aidan’s hand in mine and he shook his head laughing. “They get younger every time.”

  “Fuck off, Giggsy.”

  “Nice. And here I’ve been enduring bleeding ears from these buggers,” he thumbed behind him at the bar staff, “to reserve you a table last minute on the promenade.” Without saying another word, he strolled away and Aidan followed. He led us up the platform to a set of French doors that opened out onto the promenade, and to my delight, to one of only four tables set out there, looking over the water.

  A sweet breeze blew up off the North Sea offering a light relief from the rare hot September sun. Gulls cried out as they flew high in the sky above us.

  “There you go.” Giggsy gestured to our table and Aidan held out a chair for me. “What a gentleman.” His friend clapped him on the shoulder. Aidan rolled his eyes and Giggsy mock frowned at me. “Please tell me you’re legal.”

  While I was mortified by the idea that I looked that young next to him, Aidan sighed heavily. “Have you got a death wish?”

  “I can’t help myself. They get hotter and younger while mine get older and nag a lot. How do you do it?”

  My irritation with this man grew by the second, not only because he kept referring to Aidan’s love interests like they were products on a conveyer belt, but because he was talking about me without even looking at me. Like I didn’t matter. Sexist … Grrr!

  Giggsy grinned down at me. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

  “Water, please. Although if I wanted to, I could have a beer. For nearly five years.”

  “American?” He turned to Aidan again. “Very nice. A different state from the last one, I imagine. Are you collecting states now? You’re my hero, mate.”

  “Oi!” I snapped my fingers, drawing his attention back to me. “I’m not Aidan’s latest piece, so stop categorizing me as one, and stop talking about me like it doesn’t matter I can hear you. It’s disrespectful. Didn’t your momma teach you manners?”