Hard to Handle

“I mean, I don’t think we need to stop seeing each other,” she continued. “Just…you know. Maybe a little less…”

Faint. He was going to fucking faint.

“I appreciate you offering to take me to dinner, Aiden, but—”

“You appreciate it?” he asked, incredulous. “What am I, your coworker?”

She frowned, rolling her shoulders back. “No, of course not. I just think you and I went from zero to a hundred and skipped all the numbers in between. I need a—a break. From you. For a night or two,” she was quick to clarify.

Like that was supposed to make him feel better. “A break,” he repeated, his chest constricting.

How many times had he done this with Harmony? The start, the stall, the start, the stall. She’d ease off, come back, and he’d accommodated her each and every time. Marriage took work. Marriage took trying. And he got that, he did.

But just how much of the “trying” was supposed to come from him?

“I don’t want to stop seeing you,” Sadie continued, hell-bent on making her point. “If we could…slow down…”

“Slow down.” He was numb. From the hand that clutched the ring in his pocket to the legs somehow holding him up. “How is that even possible?”

“We don’t have to stop having sex,” she added as a caveat.

Okay, he wasn’t going to faint; he was going to puke. “You think that’s what I want? To have sex with you a couple times a week?”

She nodded, clutching her phone, and looking so hopeful it made Aiden’s stomach toss. “I want that. Don’t you?”

He bit the inside of his lip and leaned against her doorway frowning down at the welcome mat.

Welcome, my ass.

“No, Sadie,” he said, lifting his head to meet her eye. “I don’t. I want more, not less. I want every day, not every other. I want marriage, not dating. I want it all. I want you. In every way.”

She blanched. She looked as sick as he’d felt when she’d told him she wanted to back off. Only he had suggested the opposite. And her reaction was telling.

A smile—the same fake smile she’d given to Garrett at the wedding reception a few months ago—curved her mouth but failed to reach her eyes. “Aiden, we’ll get there—we’ll get—”

“I love you.” Where was her smile now? Sure as hell not on her face.

She blinked at him.

“I said I love you, Sadie.”

“I know.”

He laughed, but the sound was hollow. Empty. “And you don’t love me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He pushed off the doorway, the ring in his pocket a leaden weight dragging down his soul. “You didn’t have to.”

He stalked to Sheila as the rain started. And when he climbed on his bike, he felt the same kind of echoing anger he had the night he’d wrecked on I-75.

Like that night a few years back, Aiden gave himself to the road, and the piercing raindrops on his face. Anything was better than feeling betrayal…this time from Sadie, who couldn’t have hurt him more if she’d stabbed him in the heart with one of her four-inch heels.

*  *  *

Aiden paced the width of Shane’s office while his cousin finished his phone call.

Aiden had sweet-talked his way past Keena, Shane’s secretary, at the front door, and Shane had waved him in while he wrapped up with whoever he was talking to now.

Shane ended the call and stood from his desk. “To what do I owe the honor?” He held out a hand and Aiden embraced it, bringing it in for a half hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while…”

“Since I asked Sadie to marry me at your party?”

“Something like that.”

Shane had sent a text to Aiden a day later. A simple “What’s up?” to which Aiden replied, “Working on it.” He hadn’t talked to him since.

Aiden had been standing in front of a bookshelf on the far wall, studying the books and trinkets lining the wood. He turned back to it now and pointed at the three mismatched monkeys, all covering their mouths with their hands. “Why do you have three Speak No Evil monkeys?” He picked one up. It was pink, for God’s sake.

Shane took the effeminate monkey from his hand and put it back on the shelf, careful to line it up with the others. “Crickitt gets them for me,” he said. Followed by, “Don’t ask. What can I do for you?”

Aiden paced away from the shelf to the center of the room before turning around and facing Shane. “You can buy me out of the Axle’s contract so I can get the hell out of town.” Aiden had lashed himself to the motorcycle shops in every way. Now he had a sudden longing to move back to Oregon. Or China. Or the moon. But he couldn’t. He was stuck.

“What are you talking about? You love that place. This is going to be your final score. Your retirement plan.”

Aiden blew out a breath.

“Sadie,” Shane guessed. “Didn’t work out?”

He would never cry in front of Shane. Even though he felt the humiliating burn behind his eyeballs. He shook his head and bit his tongue.

Shane sighed and ambled to his desk. He collapsed into his executive chair and gestured for Aiden to sit in one of the guest chairs. He did, sinking into it like a sulking kid.

After a moment of silence, Shane said, “Falling in love with Crickitt scared the shit out of me.”

Aiden’s eyebrows rose. Shane wasn’t one to admit weakness. Wore his stiff upper lip as proudly as the tie knotted around his neck. Shane loved Crickitt, obviously, but to hear him admit he was…scared? It was…Aiden didn’t even have a word to describe what it was.

“You have my attention,” Aiden told him.

“You’re not like I am, Aiden. You’re okay with this”—he waved a hand—“feelings stuff.” Shane leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. “Maybe Sadie’s more like I am. Less…sure of herself.” Shane frowned like he hated to admit that.

Aiden watched him, his mind spinning. Partially because he’d never thought about Shane not being sure of himself in any capacity. He had it more together than anyone Aiden knew. Shane was a billionaire, for God’s sake.

But Shane wasn’t the focus. His cousin was suggesting that Sadie wasn’t sure of herself, that she was the one not okay with this “feelings stuff.” Wasn’t it more important for her to place her trust in Aiden? Faith, trust—that’s what this whole thing was about. Yet the faith Sadie had placed in Aiden had petered out almost immediately.

Aiden shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t do this again.”

Shane’s phone buzzed and Keena announced into the intercom, “Mr. Alberts is here.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Shane answered. He let go of the button. Aiden stood to leave. When he reached the door, he halted at the sound of Shane’s voice.

“Crickitt gave me one more chance than I deserved,” he said. “Just one.”

Aiden swallowed hard and nodded without turning around. Then he opened the door and let himself out.

*  *  *

“Drinks at Bo’s Tavern,” Perry said, leaning into Sadie’s cubicle on Friday evening. He frowned at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

She was numb, that’s what was wrong with her. This time, when Aiden walked out, she hadn’t cried. Hadn’t curled into a ball and wept like last time. Also unlike last time, she hadn’t had to ignore his calls and texts, because none had come. He’d shut her out completely.