“Yeah right, Hastings. The only girl who threw herself at you today was Beccy, and that’s because she tripped on her lace.” Shaun teases.
“Shut up Bossi. You’re just jealous bro.” Simon bites back, and I try not to laugh when Ayden rolls his eyes at their immature banter. I love this about these guys. They help me forget my worries even if it’s for the briefest time.
“Hey did you hear about Travis Watson?” Marcus says, “Cops picked him up earlier today for the vandalism at school.”
“What?” I squeak before trying to school my features and hide the fact that this news affects me. Ayden notices though and frowns mouthing “Are you okay?”
I nod quickly.
“Yeah, I heard that too. Wasn’t he at Tasha's party on the weekend? Her place isn’t that far from school.” Garrett adds.
I’m so fucked.
“I heard Allison hooked up with Travis at the party. Maybe she was the other person who trashed the place with him.” Jared says.
“What do you mean, other person?” I ask, trying to sound not as concerned as I feel.
“The witness said there were two of them who did it. I can’t see a girl doing something like that, though.” Jared answers me, and I frown. If only they knew that not only could a girl do the crime, but that the girl in question is me.
“If it was a girl, it was probably one of the FP High chicks. Those bitches are cut from a different cloth than the classy girls at FP Catholic.”
Oh, Simon. If you only knew.
“I don’t know about that.” Shaun disagrees, “The chick that tripped Tasha at school can be pretty brutal. Just thinking about what she did makes my dick hard.”
“And on that note, we have to go.” Ayden picks the phone up from the couch where he placed it between us.
They all protest but Ayden gets his way, and the call is ended before they can all say their goodbyes. I immediately miss their voices. Those guys have the ability to make me feel lighter without even knowing they’re doing it.
“They are… A lot.” Ayden’s face creases into a cringe, and I laugh. Well, I pretend to laugh, because really I’m freaking the fuck out. I need to speak with Travis, but I don’t have my phone. Can I even speak to him? If the cops have arrested him then maybe he’s in jail. Do sixteen-year-old kids even go to jail? Shit, I don’t know.
“You okay, Lex? Ayden’s voice reminds me that he’s sitting in front of me, watching my every move.
I clear my throat, “Yep. Wanna watch another movie?”
Ayden’s brows pull together and his eyes search mine looking for answers, but I hold strong. Until the police come to take me away for the vandalism, I’m going to pretend it never happened
Ayden caves and nods bringing up the Netflix screen again so we can choose something else to watch, and we settle in to watch another action movie.
After movie number three, and a brief nana nap on my part, Ayden slips out of the room to speak with his dad while I take a much-needed toilet break.
When I come out of the toilet, Ayden is leaning against his bedroom door, looking all sorts of yummy in his grey sweatpants and chest hugging navy t-shirt. I suddenly feel self-conscious about my appearance. Besides the fact that one eye is partially closed over, taking on the look of a pufferfish with shaded dark purple bruising, my blonde hair is an unruly mess, the waves having a mind of their own adding more volume than I’d like. I nervously run my hand over my messy hair, hoping to tame it and cover up the wound where my hair has been torn from the roots.
“Don’t do that.” Ayden crosses his arms over his chest.
“Do what?”
“Don’t for a minute think you aren’t beautiful right now.” Dear Lord, how does he know just the right things to say to make me squirm?
I scoff, rejecting his compliment, “I think you need your eyes tested.”
“Nope,” he shakes his head, “My eyesight is perfect. I can even see that pretty pink flush that just crept over your face.”
Holy hell, he is killing me.
“There it is again.” He chuckles. Smart arse!
“Would you stop it?” I hiss, barging past him in the doorway.
I don’t get far, though, because he grabs my hand, turning me back to face him, “I’m sorry.” He’s fighting back a smirk as he speaks, which kind of contradicts what he just said.
“You don’t seem sorry.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to hide my own smirk.
“You’re right. I’m not really.” Reaching up, Ayden tucks some of my hair behind my ear. “I was speaking the truth when I said you’re still beautiful, Lex, and I love seeing you blush. Please stop trying to hide it from me.”
I can’t respond. What do I even say to that? Maybe I could have thought of a fun, witty response if I wasn’t silently begging for him to kiss me. I guess I could always make the first move and kiss him. But if I’m being honest, I’m too scared to do that, partly because I’m a chicken and partly because even though I think I’m reading his signals right, there is a part of me that doubts I even have a chance with him.
We stand motionless, staring at each other in the hall, and after a few moments, Ayden breaks the connection.
“Do you feel like getting out of here for a bit?”
“Uh- I don’t really want anyone to see me like this.” It’s easy to forget how bad I look when Ayden looks at me the way he does. The painful swelling is a constant reminder, though, and the times I’ve summed up the courage to look at myself in the mirror scares me to see the monster looking back. I can’t imagine having other people see that too. It’s hard enough knowing Ayden can see it.
“That’s okay. I was thinking of heading down to my dad’s recording studio on the tenth floor. No one is there now, and dad gave me the key. We will have the place to ourselves.”
Smiling, I nod. That does kind of sound interesting. I’ve never been to a recording studio before.
“Sure, why not.” Ayden’s smile instantly broadens at my response, and he takes my hand, leading me to the lifts.
Travelling down from the twenty-fourth floor to the tenth doesn’t take as long as I thought it would. The lift opens into a sleek foyer and reception area with a sign above the counter saying ‘MitchWave Studios.’
The name is familiar, and I hadn’t even clicked previously when Ayden said his dad did this for a living.
“Hold up! Your dad owns MitchWave?”
Ayden smiles, “You’ve heard of it?”
“Uh- yeah. Archer 9 recorded their most recent album here. It’s their sickest one yet!” I try and fail to contain my excitement. I can tell it’s hard for Ayden to hide his smirk at my reaction.
“Yep, that’s right. They recorded in this studio.” Ayden gestures to the room, saying ‘Studio two’ on the door.
“No, shit?” My voice is high pitched with my excitement, and I eagerly walk up to the door easing it open.
The room lights up when Ayden flicks a switch, and I stand in awe. Deep red walls encase the room with grey carpet underfoot, both colours providing regal warmth.
“This is the live room where they catch full bands and do live sessions.” Ayden walks up to the ebony grand piano and takes a seat. I follow him and run my finger along the glossy surface of the piano, noticing that there isn’t a speck of dust on it.
“Have you watched recordings being done in this room?”
He nods, “Yep, I’ve sat in on a few. Not Archer 9, though.”
Wow. Just wow. I never want to leave this place.
The smooth timbre of the piano snaps me out of my trance, and I look to see Ayden’s talented hands gliding over the keys. Is there nothing this beautiful being can’t do? Resting my chin in my hands, I lean on the top of the piano and watch Ayden’s face, lit with peaceful concentration. It doesn’t take me long to recognise the piece he is playing.
“Foo Fighters?”
He nods, “Yep, Everlong.”
I smile. It’s probably a ridiculous
dorky smile too, but I don’t care. I have officially found my new happy place!
“Come sit next to me.” Even though he looks up at me as he speaks, the musical flow of Everlong doesn’t get interrupted. I do as he asks while he continues to play, and I watch, captivated as his fingers create the music filling the room. His hands look strong like they could easily break bones, yet they are always so gentle when they touch me. I don’t think I’ve ever taken notice of someone’s hands before, but Ayden’s draw me in, and I silently wish they were holding mine, touching my face, or stroking my hair, just as he’s done so many times over the last few days.
As the song winds down, Ayden turns his head to look at me and gives me a toothy smile that lights up his whole face before his hands fall to his lap.
“What were you just thinking about?” He asks.
“Um, nothing?” It’s meant to be an answer but comes out like a question.
His right brow lifts, “Really?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Lifting his hand to my face, he grazes the backs of his fingers along my un-bruised cheek.
“Lexi, Lexi, Lexi. When are you going to learn that your pretty pink blush keeps giving you away?”
My face instantly heats again, and his small smirk tells me he can see yet another red flush sweep across my face. I would usually duck my head and try to hide it, but this time I don’t. For some reason, I don’t feel so embarrassed, and I like that he can see it.
“So beautiful.” It's barely a whisper, and I feel the heat of his breath across my cheek as he leans in. I’m lost, aching to have him kiss me, my eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.
His lips brush my cheek where his fingers touched only moments before, and then when I expect them to move to my mouth, they don’t, and he’s gone.
My eyes snap open to see him sitting back again, smiling down at me.
“You want to play the piano?” His question is playful.
“I-ah, don’t know how to play.” Does he not want to kiss me? He calls me beautiful, touches me like I’m the most precious thing in the world, and yet he still doesn’t kiss me the way I so desperately want him to.
“I’ll teach you the basics.”
And just like that, as if the moment we just shared didn’t even happen, he’s teaching me to play the piano.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We spend hours in the studios. Ayden teaches me how to play Mary had a little lamb on the piano before moving to the drum kit, bashing out all of our frustrations. It’s so much fun, and by the end of it, I try to convince Ayden that I’m going to be the next drumming sensation.
Ayden’s dad cooks a roast for dinner, and to say it's delicious is an understatement. I try not to scoff the food in front of Ayden’s parents, but it’s hard to control myself.
“You like the roast, hey, Lexi?” Peter asks with a smirk.
I nod, “It’s delicious. Thank you so much.”
“Does your family have roast dinners often, Lexi?” Andrea asks, and I try to hide my cringe.
I clear my throat, “Ah- no. The last time I had a roast was at Abbey’s house last year when we had leftovers from Christmas.” I instantly regret telling them. The pity on their faces is almost suffocating, and it makes me squirm. I also feel bad for lying to them because the last time I had roast was a couple of days ago when Ayden hid me away in his loft and snuck food to me.
“What does your family usually do for dinners? Do you sit together for meals?” Andrea looks concerned, but I felt like it’s the beginning of an interrogation. My need to protect myself is almost overwhelming.
“Mum, stop with the questions.” Ayden hisses.
Looking away from me, Andrea looks to Ayden, shrugging, “What? I’m just asking.”
“You’re interrogating her!” He stands abruptly from the table, his chair scraping loudly across the tiled floor.
I don’t want this. I don’t want to come between Ayden and his parents, who have so generously helped me.
“It’s okay,” I reach out to cover Ayden’s hand, trying to let him know that I don’t mind, even though I do.
He looks to our hands and then to my face before slowly lowering himself back to his seat. Ayden scoots his chair closer to mine and locks our fingers together, not caring that his parents can see his affection towards me. To move past the awkwardness, I answer Andrea’s question.
“No, we haven’t had a family dinner together for years. I usually have to cook something for mum and me. Dad is never home, and Mike only moved in a few months back. Mostly I just fend for myself.”
The room is silent while they digest what I’ve just said. There’s still pity on their faces, and I wish I had of just lied to them; made up some bullshit story so they can sleep better at night.
“I’m so sorry, Lexi. That must be hard.” Andrea’s eyes hold regret.
I shake my head. “It’s not that hard when it’s all I know.”
“Well, I want you to know you will always have a seat at our table, Lexi. Here or at my sister’s in Fox Pines.”
Her generosity is, once again, overwhelming, and I have to fight to control my emotions. “Thank you, Andrea, that’s so kind of you.”
The gentle squeeze of Ayden’s hand reminds me that he’s still here for me too, and I’m thankful when the conversation turns a little lighter with Andrea and Peter discussing something about her sister’s family.
After dinner, I try to help with the dishes, but Andrea and Peter insist on doing them and shoo us away. I’m left feeling exhausted even though it’s still early in the evening, and Ayden picks up on that, insisting we have an early night, which I don’t protest. I shower, trying to ease the pain, which is a stiffening ache all over my body and has become increasingly worse as the day went on. The heat helps a little with the soreness and calms my chaotic mind. When I finally return to Ayden’s room, he has paracetamol ready for me. I didn’t even have to ask, he knew anyway, reading me like an open book.
“Thank you for this,” I swallow down the two tablets and turn to Ayden to see him studying my every move from his desk chair. His gaze is darker than usual, and the intensity of it makes me shift nervously.
“What?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.
He gives me that devilish grin of his, “What?”
I raise my brows at him. Well, I try to raise my brows at him. Only one lifts, the other one is frozen in its horrid purple, puffy swell.
Ayden chuckles and walks over to me.
“I like you wearing my hoodie,” I have to crane my neck back to look up at him, “I think you should wear it all the time.” Reaching out, he strokes a stray hair off my face, being careful to avoid the bruising.
“What is it with you wanting me to wear your hoodie?” I’m breathless and struggle to get the words out as my body warms with a simmering heat from the inside out. I know there’s a blush showing on my face, but I don’t hide it. I want him to see what he does to me. His blue eyes roam my face, taking their slow torturous time before stopping on my lips. Is this it? The moment he’ll finally kiss me?
“Lexi,” he whispers.
“Yes?”
“Do you have any objections if I sleep in the same bed with you again?”
I take a moment to comprehend his words, my heart in my throat as my mind tries to play catch up, only to feel disappointment when he takes a small step back. I could scream! I desperately want him to kiss me, but he won’t make the first move, and it’s driving me crazy. I’m so close to losing my mind and climbing him like he’s a damn tree, just to feel his lips on mine.
“I thought you might like a bit of space since you’ve been stuck with me so much lately,” he looks down at his feet briefly as if he’s unsure, but then his eyes return to mine with the smallest grin tugging at his lips, “but Lex, I selfishly don’t want to give you space. I’m a prick, I know. But if you tell me to, I will back off. I don’t want to suffocate you.”
Air slowly seeps back int
o my lungs as I process what he just said. I was so sure he was going to kiss me with the way his eyes drank me in, but then he bloody backed off only to tell me he wants to sleep in the same bed as me. I’m so confused. Am I misinterpreting things? Am I delusional thinking that Ayden Mitchell could ever want me the way I want him?
“No.” My head is all messed up, and emotions that I don’t want to feel are strangling me again. Feelings of not being good enough, of not being the person people expect me to be, are clawing their way into my brain.
“No?” Ayden asks, “As in, no, you don’t want me to sleep in the same bed with you?”
“What?” My confusion is making me more confused if that’s even possible? I take a moment to process his words again, “Oh, wait. I mean, no, I don’t want you to back off. I’d rather not be alone.” Sucking in my bottom lip, I chew on it as nerves unsettle me for being so frank.
Ayden grins, “So I can sleep with you? In the same bed, I mean.”
I grin back because his awkward words are now making him squirm, “Yes.”
He nods, “Okay. I’ll uh- go take a quick shower.” I nod, but he doesn’t see it as he has already turned to flee into the bathroom.
Shaking my head, the stupid grin on my face probably resembles a twelve-year-old girl who just opened her first valentine’s card. If I could just stop acting like a love-struck idiot, then maybe Ayden wouldn’t be so standoffish. I’m almost sure he feels the same way about me as I do him, but I don’t understand why he’s holding back. It has to be because I’m a weirdo or because of my heavy baggage. Perhaps it’s because I look like a monster.
Deciding not to torture myself any further, I climb into Ayden’s bed, lying down on the same side I slept last night. Ayden’s intoxicating scent surrounds me, soaking into my pores, creating a relieving calm for my aching body. It’s addictive and makes me crave his powerful arms holding me, so I pull his blanket over me, tucking it around my body, and close my eyes to wait for him to join me in bed.
Sometime later, I wake up to Ayden slipping into the bed. I hadn’t realised I was asleep, my body instantly finding its peace where it feels safe. Ayden reaches out and pulls me close, this time with my head tucked into the crook of his neck. I wrap my arm over his chest without thinking twice, and he instinctively pulls my leg up over his hip.
Heavy (Heavy Hearts Book 1) Page 19
