The Wall of Winnipeg and Me: A Novel
The Wall of Winnipeg and Me: Chapter 22

I didn’t know who he was trying to fool, because he wasn’t fooling anyone.

The black knit beanie he had pulled down to nearly his eyebrows wasn’t hiding anything. Neither were the sunglasses he’d left on even after we got out of the car. Sure his hoodie mostly hid just how developed those big muscles underneath it were, but a nearly three-hundred-pound man wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

It was like dressing an elephant in camouflage.

In this case, it was a sports superstar going into a college-level basketball game trying to be as inconspicuous as possible with the most minimal effort. That was the thing about Aiden, he never really went out of his way to go incognito. He just preferred being a hermit at home to avoid being spotted. Hence why I’d been hired. I understood. I really did. He valued his privacy, and in my heart, I knew he would be the exact same way if he weren’t famous.

Yet here he was, walking into a basketball stadium with me in Denton, Texas, where there was going to be at least a few hundred people in attendance, all to watch my little brother play.

When I’d gotten up early that morning, the day after Thanksgiving, the last thing I expected was to replace Aiden awake at the breakfast nook. Usually the day after a game, he slept like the dead and even went as crazy as to get an extra two or three hours more of snooze time. With the Three Hundreds’ game falling on Thanksgiving Thursday, the team gave the staff and players the rest of the weekend off.

But there he’d been at nine in the morning, in the kitchen, in his pajamas, eating an apple, looking just as surprised to see me awake as I was to see him. After dinner the night before, we’d watched two episodes of “Dragonball Z,” and then Aiden had tromped upstairs to hit the sack.

“Where are you going?” he had blatantly asked that morning.

“My little brother has a game,” I answered him as I made my way toward the fridge to make breakfast.

Holding the apple up to his face, his features went pensive. “What kind of a game?”

It was then that I realized I had never told him. “He plays college basketball for Louisiana.”

The Wall of Winnipeg blinked. “What position?”

“Point guard.” I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly asked, “Do you want to come? It’s only an hour away.”

“I was planning on resting today…” He kind of trailed off and shrugged. “What time do you want to leave?”

Yeah, I’d been dumbstruck for a second.

It had only taken me the entire drive to decide that maybe I should have left him home. It wasn’t like I cared if fans came up to him or anything—he was what he was—but I hadn’t taken into consideration that he might not enjoy being gawked at for hours if anyone recognized him.

And why wouldn’t anyone recognize him? He was the face of a professional NFO team in Texas. Even people who didn’t watch football knew who he was with the big-name endorsements he had.

I then reminded myself that Aiden was always well aware of the pros and cons to the decisions he made. Always. He was a big boy and he made his own choices, so screw it. If he wanted to tag along, who was I to say no? I kept my mouth closed and my advice to myself.

And so, hours after my invitation, we were at the coliseum where the university held their games. Finally getting a chance to watch my little brother play for the first time this season, I was pretty excited both to see the team’s starting point guard and to have The Wall of Winnipeg tagging along when he was usually content to stay home.

After picking up the tickets I’d bought on the way from will-call—I had originally only purchased one—we made it through security without any issues. In no time at all, we found our section and Aiden gestured me to go ahead of him down the stairs.

The stadium wasn’t anywhere near being packed. Considering it was the day after Thanksgiving, most of the North Texas’s students were probably with their families, doing things other than going to a basketball game. There were only a couple handfuls of Louisiana colors in the stands. It suddenly explained why we’d gotten such good seats at the last minute.

By the time we sat down, the game hadn’t started yet, but it was almost time for the players to come out. I smiled over at Aiden when he was seated next to me, the side of his denim-clad knee touching mine. I reached over and patted his thigh. I mean, I’d sat on his lap. He’d slept in the same bed as me. I’d given him a hug. What was a little pat in comparison? “Thank you for coming.”

His careful expression slowly melted into a flat one. His words were clear cut. “Shut up.”

I stared at him for all of two seconds before grinning and touching his thigh again with a snort. “What? I can tell you thank you as much as I want.”

“Don’t.”

I ignored his comment. “I’m glad you came. Doing things with someone else is a lot more fun than being alone, even if you’re telling me to shut up. I appreciate it. So sue me.”

Aiden made an exasperated sound. “I’m going to replace the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

I gave him a thumbs-up before he got to his feet, which earned me an annoyed look, and then he disappeared up the stairs. I sat there drumming my fingers on my kneecaps waiting for the players to come out of the locker rooms. Someone tapped on my shoulder from behind, and I glanced back to see three guys in their early twenties sitting forward, eager expressions splashed all over their faces.

“Hi,” I said a little uncertainly, wondering what was going on.

One guy elbowed the other one, and the third cleared his throat as he scratched behind his ear. If there was one thing I knew, it was people who felt awkward, and these guys were it.

“Is that Graves?” the one in the middle who had gotten the elbow asked.

Shit.

“Who?” I smiled sweetly, using my best dumb-girl eyes along with it.

“Aiden Graves,” the friend said, like that would help if I really had no idea who that was.

Was I supposed to admit it was him? Or continue playing like I’d never heard of Aiden? A part of me wanted to go with the latter, but if someone caught a really good look of him and confirmed that it was him…

Well, Aiden wasn’t the type to run away from anything.

So I dropped the doe eyes and nodded. “Yeah. Our secret.”

From the way they reeled back, they were either shocked or they didn’t believe me. All three of them blinked for a second before suddenly snapping out of it.

“It’s really him?” One of them whispered.

The one in the middle muttered, “Holy fuck,” before going a little pale.

“He’s even bigger in person,” the one on the right muttered, turning in his seat to look around like Aiden would have magically reappeared in just a couple of minutes.

The guy was right though. Pictures didn’t do him justice. Hell, I was used to seeing Aiden up close and personal all the time, and I still hadn’t become desensitized to him.

“What is he doing here?” the one on the left asked.

It was a fair question. Aiden had gone to college in Wisconsin. “My brother plays for Louisiana,” I explained, deciding to go with the truth again. I mean, I couldn’t really pull off a lie well anyway.

“Are you his girlfriend?”

The guy in the middle hit his friend on the right with his forearm. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. Obviously she’s his girlfriend, dumbass.”

“You’re both dumbasses,” Lefty stated. “He got married. I saw it online.” A hesitant look came over his face as he glanced at me. “Didn’t you?”

Shit. Well, I did this to myself. In for a penny, in for a pound. My face got all red and hot even though I was trying to will it not to. “Yep.”

“I’m not surprised. I love your hair.” Righty smiled.

Yeah, my face went a little hotter and I shifted in my seat, conscious that I was two weeks past when I needed to do something with the fading teal color in my hair or just color over it. “Oh, thanks.”

“Dude, would you shut the fuck up? Graves can eat you if he doesn’t kill you,” his friend, the guy in the middle, whisper-hissed.

I took that as my cue to turn around and face forward. They kept arguing behind me in whispers. Should I have played dumb?

Sometime later, in the middle of a little girl singing the National Anthem, Aiden’s big-ass butt plopped down into the seat next to mine. I tucked my elbows in to give him more room just as he handed over a souvenir cup filled with what I had a feeling was going to be Dr. Pepper. He had a bottle of water in his other hand.

I leaned over and patted the top of his hand. “Thank you, big guy.”

He made sure to meet my eyes before leaning into me in return; his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “You don’t have to thank me all the time.”

“Shut up.” I used his line on him, earning me a head shake and a flash of a tiny grin in return from the man whose face was about four inches away from mine. Just as he started to pull away, I tugged on his hoodie sleeve so he could come closer.

He did. Aiden was so close the side of his bristly jaw brushed the tip of my nose. I didn’t jerk back, but I stayed in place, letting that wonderful clean scent coming off his skin fill my nostrils. “Those guys sitting behind us recognized you,” I whispered.

Aiden shifted his face just enough so that his mouth brushed my earlobe. “Did they say anything to you?” That gritty, deep voice seemed to go straight to the center of my chest.

It took everything in me not to shiver as his breath hit the sensitive spot on my neck. “They asked if you were you and I said yes.” I had to swallow as another soft puff of breath hit my neck. “And they know we’re… you know… together.”

He didn’t react.

“I didn’t know what to say. Sorry,” I whispered.

That had him pulling back just enough to give me a dry look. “Vanessa—”

I beat him to it. “Shut up.”

“I was going to tell you to stop saying sorry, but that works too.”

Did he just smile at me? Did he just smile smugly at me? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure, but I was going to take it as a yes. Yes, he had just smiled at me playfully.

And that had me blinking once. My heart beating twice. “In that case…”

“Shut up,” he finished for me.

I burst out laughing as I reached into my purse and pulled out a red apple I had hidden under my scarf to get it through security, and handed it over. “What a good boy. If you behave, I might have a smashed up Vega bar in my pocket for you.”

I didn’t know what it said about me that I carried snacks around for him, but whatever. He was like my puppy I had to make sure ate enough. You know, a massive puppy that made my insides feel discombobulated from time to time. Yeah, discombobulated. It was that bad.

He took the apple from me and reclined into his seat just as the teams’ centers approached the middle of the court for tip-off. How the hell had I missed the players getting on the court? I took off my jacket, rolled back my shoulders, and prepared to cheer on my brother.

“Which one is he?”

I pointed at the six-foot-three, pale-skinned idiot who I used to put on dresses for fun when we were younger. “Number thirty.”

“He’s taller than I thought he’d be,” Aiden noted absently.

“I think his dad was tall.”

Aiden glanced at me briefly. “You don’t have the same one?”

“No. At least, I’m pretty sure we don’t. I’ve never met mine as far as I know.” And by that I meant, I’d never had any man pick me up and tell me I was his as a kid. My little brother’s dad hadn’t paid much attention to me when he’d been around. When I saw Aiden out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his face was tight. His jaw jutting. “What is it?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’ve never met your father?”

My neck went a little hot and for some reason I got embarrassed. “No.”

“Do you look like your mom?”

I reached up to mess with the leg of my glasses. “No.” My mom was a blonde, somewhat pale and she was only five-five. I was more peach-skinned, my hair a natural brown with a little red, and taller than the rest of the women in my family. “My friend Diana’s mom used to tell me she thought my dad must have been Hispanic or maybe Mediterranean or something, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Have you always been tall?”

If I really strained and stood up straight, I was almost, almost five eight. “My sisters used to call me The Blind Giraffe.” Where’s The Blind Giraffe at? Bitches. “I was all legs and glasses—ooh look. They’re about to play.”

From the first time I jumped to my feet to cheer on my brother, I could tell Aiden wasn’t prepared for what kind of fan I was. At least, what kind of fan I was for my little brother. By the beginning of the second half, he had started leaning away from me, fussing and whispering, “You’re scaring me,” after I got to my feet and started yelling at the ref for a shitty call made against Oscar, my little brother.

But it was the way he made his eyes go wide during halftime and pretend to shrink even further away from me that made me laugh.

“Who are you?” he deadpanned, which made me snicker.

“What? I was the same way at your game yesterday.”

Those black eyelashes hung low over his eyes. “Zac’s seen you?”

I nodded.

Aiden blinked. “I think I want my jersey back.”

I blinked back. “Tough shit, sunshine. It’s mine now.”

The corners of his mouth had barely started to pull up when someone yelled, “The Three Hundreds suck! You suck, Toronto!”

What in the hell?

Just as I started to glance around to see what idiot was yelling, Aiden’s index finger touched my chin. I stopped. “Don’t bother.”

“Why?” I tried turning my head, but apparently his finger had Hulk-like strength because it didn’t go anywhere.

“Because I don’t care what he thinks,” he said in a tone so serious I quit trying to look elsewhere and focused in on that handsome, grave face.

“But it’s rude.” His hand moved from my chin around to the back of my head, that big palm cupping my neck. His thumb to the tip of his middle finger seemed to stretch nearly all the way around my throat.

“Do you think I suck?” he asked me, seriously, in a voice low enough for only me to hear.

I snorted, about to open my mouth and say something really smart-ass, but his thumb dug deep, the pressure making me groan out a hoarse noise of holy shit, do it again. But somehow I managed to say, “No,” instead.

“Then why would I care what someone else thinks?” he murmured, steady and confident.

I didn’t lower my face as I told him the truth. “I can’t help it. I didn’t like people talking about you when I worked for you, and I like it even less now.”

Those dark brown eyes bore into mine. “Even when you used to flip me off?”

“Just because you’ve made me mad doesn’t mean I ever stopped caring about you, dummy,” I whispered in a frown, totally conscious of the guys sitting behind us. “I would have done just about anything for you back then, even when you got on my nerves. I might have just waited until the last minute to push you out of oncoming traffic, but I’d still push you out of the way.”

I tipped my head in the direction of where the idiot had yelled from a minute ago. “Now it’s definitely going to bother me that you’re just minding your own business, living your life, and someone you don’t know is yelling that kind of stuff. That guy doesn’t know you. Who is he to talk shit to you?”

Damn it, just thinking about it had me craning my neck to try and turn around, but the hand on my neck kept me in place. All that intense Aiden-focus burned through the flesh of my skin, through the calcium of my bones, and straight into the very root of me. His nostrils flared at the same time as his thumb did that circle-massage thing that made my leg go numb.

“The only people in the world who can hurt you are those you let have that ability, Van. You said it—that guy doesn’t know me. In my entire life, I’ve only cared what four people thought about me. I’m not worried about that nobody back there, understand me?” His hand moved, one finger slipping behind my ear to rub around the shell where it met my head. Dry and callused, it was probably the most intimate thing anyone had ever done to me.

Words—breathing—life seemed to catch in my throat as I took in those incredibly long lashes framing such potent eyes. The line of his shoulders was imposing and endless. His face was so severe and thoughtful, it plucked at my heart, but somehow, somehow I got myself to nod, the world in my throat. “I get it.”

I did. I got it.

Did he care what I thought? He explained himself, his decisions and his thoughts. But what did it mean?

He’d said he had four people in his life, and I now figured those had been his grandparents and Leslie. Who was the other person whose opinion mattered to him, I wondered?

I bit the inside of my cheek and let out a shaky breath. “I know you don’t care what that asshole thinks, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to pretend he punched me in the arm. You’d just have to be my ‘witness.’” I smiled weakly at my joke. “Team Graves, right?”

Aiden didn’t smile back.

His forehead tipped forward, and before I could react, before he said another word to me, he leaned forward, forward, forward and pressed his mouth just to the side of my mouth. A peck. A shot better than tequila, made up of friendship and affection and organic sugar.

When he pulled back, just a few inches, just enough for our eyes to meet, my heart pounded this crazy rhythm that might have been a borderline heart attack. I couldn’t help but smile. Nervous and confused and overwhelmed and completely caught off guard, I had to gulp.

“GO BACK TO DALLAS!” the man sitting somewhere behind us yelled again, and the hold Aiden still had on the back of my neck tightened imperceptibly.

“Don’t bother, Van,” he demanded, pokerfaced.

“I’m not going to say anything,” I said, even as I reached up with the hand furthest away from him and put it behind my head, extending my middle finger in hopes that the idiot yelling would see it.

Those brown eyes blinked. “You just flipped him off, didn’t you?”

Yeah, my mouth dropped open. “How do you know when I do that?” My tone was just as astonished as it should be.

“I know everything.” He said it like he really believed it.

I groaned and cast him a long look. “You really want to play this game?”

“I play games for a living, Van.”

I couldn’t stand him sometimes. My eyes crossed in annoyance. “When is my birthday?”

He stared at me.

“See?”

“March third, Muffin.”

What in the hell?

“See?” he mocked me.

Who was this man and where was the Aiden I knew?

“How old am I?” I kept going hesitantly.

“Twenty-six.”

“How do you know this?” I asked him slowly.

“I pay attention,” The Wall of Winnipeg stated.

I was starting to think he was right.

Then, as if to really seal the deal I didn’t know was resting between us, he said, “You like waffles, root beer, and Dr. Pepper. You only drink light beer. You put cinnamon in your coffee. You eat too much cheese. Your left knee always aches. You have three sisters I hope I never meet and one brother. You were born in El Paso. You’re obsessed with your work. You start picking at the corner of your eye when you feel uncomfortable or fool around with your glasses. You can’t see things up close, and you’re terrified of the dark.” He raised those thick eyebrows. “Anything else?”

Yeah, I only managed to say one word. “No.” How did he know all this stuff? How? Unsure of how I was feeling, I coughed and started to reach up to mess with my glasses before I realized what I was doing and snuck my hand under my thigh, ignoring the knowing look on Aiden’s dumb face. “I know a lot about you too. Don’t think you’re cool or special.”

“I know, Van.” His thumb massaged me again for all of about three seconds. “You know more about me than anyone else does.”

A sudden memory of the night in my bed where he’d admitted his fear as a kid pecked at my brain, relaxing me, making me smile. “I really do, don’t I?”

The expression on his face was like he was torn between being okay with the idea and being completely against it.

Leaning in close to him again, I winked. “I’m taking your love of MILF porn to the grave with me, don’t worry.”

He stared at me, unblinking, unflinching. And then: “I’ll cut the power at the house when you’re in the shower,” he said so evenly, so crisply, it took me a second to realize he was threatening me…

And when it finally did hit me, I burst out laughing, smacking his inner thigh without thinking twice about it. “Who does that?”

Aiden Graves, husband of mine, said it, “Me.”

Then the words were out of my mouth before I could control them. “And you know what I’ll do? I’ll go sneak into bed with you, so ha.”

What the hell had I just said? What in the ever-loving hell had I just said?

“If you think I’m supposed to be scared…” He leaned forward so our faces were only a couple of inches away. The hand on my neck and the finger pads lining the back of my ear stayed where they were. “I’m not.”

As if the peck he’d given me hadn’t done enough damage, the way he said that sent my heart pounding again. My chest flushing hot. Everything I thought I knew seemed to spiral out of control.

He was messing with me. Flirting with me. Aiden Graves. What was this?

It didn’t help that, before I managed to get my heart back in shape or get my head on straight, my phone started vibrating. When I saw the incoming message as a picture from Diana, I didn’t think much of it.

But when I unlocked the screen and saw the picture, it only sent me reeling all over again.

She had attached a shot of her television. On the screen was a picture of Aiden and me sitting in the stands just minutes before, his face so close to mine, his arm around my back. It looked… well, I didn’t know what exactly it looked like, but Aiden and I were laughing. I could see what it didn’t look like.

It didn’t look like this thing between us was fake.

But then it got me thinking. Had Aiden just been extra friendly and flirty because he suspected this would happen?

“Look, he’s right there.” I smacked Aiden with the back of my hand before pointing at the brown-haired booger standing just outside surrounded by teammates and other people not affiliated with the university. “Oscar!”

My brother didn’t turn around.

“Oscar Meyer Weiner!” I yelled again.

That had him swinging his head around with a big grin on his face. Raising one hand, I waved and tugged on Aiden’s hand briefly with the other, urging him forward. After away games, he usually didn’t have much time to hang around, so I wanted to take advantage of the few minutes we had together.

As we walked closer, I spotted my brother cutting a path through the crowd, only to stop abruptly for a second and look back and forth between Aiden and me, before he continued walking toward us. Behind Oscar, more than a few of the crowd were looking in our direction too.

My brother was smiling, but his gaze kept trailing to Aiden in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” he demanded as I took a step forward and let my brother give me a big hug, pulling me up off my feet. He’d been taller than me for nearly the last ten years and never let me forget it.

“I texted you on the way here, but I figured your phone was off when you didn’t write me back,” I said as he lowered me. I grinned at him, putting my hands on each side of his face to squish his cheeks together. We weren’t super close anymore, but I loved the hell out of him. He’d been the only one in my family to never disappoint me.

He stuck his tongue out and tried to lick my hand.

I gave his cheek a pinch before I dropped my hands and took a step back so that my shoulder brushed the side of Aiden’s arm. “Oscar, Aiden. Aiden, Oscar.”

It was Aiden who extended his hand first.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Oscar said, his tone a little surprised as he shook Aiden’s hand.

“Same.” The big guy pulled back. “You played a good game.”

I eyed him a little out of the corner of my eye. Had he just paid him a compliment?

My brother’s face turned a little pink as he nodded. The big idiot was like a younger version of me—words weren’t our strength in life. “Oh, ah, thanks. Everybody’s been talking about how you were at our game,” he stammered before his gaze swung over to me as his face kept that nice rosy shade. “I didn’t think you’d be here together.”

I shrugged, not knowing how to respond. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

Oscar shot me that face that said it meant about as much to him as it meant to me. “We had practice, most of us went to the coach’s house for dinner. You?”

“I worked and then went to his game afterward.” I elbowed Aiden’s forearm.

“Hey…” His eyes darted behind me for a second; an uncomfortable look crawled over his long face. Oscar blew out a long, shaky breath. “Damn it, Vanny. I’m sorry, okay? You caught me off guard and I forgot…”

I didn’t like where this was going. We never apologized to each other. If anything, Oscar and I had always understood what we needed to do to survive. He’d given me his blessing to go to school far away from him, and I never gave him shit for going weeks between contacting me.

But I had this terrible feeling…

“Susie is here. At least, she said she was going to be here.”

Motherfucker. Motherfucking fucker. My teeth clenched down, one row aligned on top of the other, and I had to will my face from reacting. It took nearly everything in me to play off the anger filling me up. Of all the times to come see Oscar, Susie had to come now? Since when had she given a shit about him? While they’d always been nicer to him than they’d been to me, none of my sisters had ever really paid that much attention to him.

“I came to see you. It’s fine,” I lied. It wasn’t fine. I didn’t want to see my sister, and I didn’t want him to feel bad either. As if I wasn’t about three seconds away from screaming, I asked, “Are you heading back to Shreveport now?”

He nodded, the discomfort brutally apparent on his face. I guess he did know me well enough to not be fooled. “Yeah.” Oscar stopped talking, his eyes going pained in a way that said ‘I’m so sorry’ and raised his hand up to wave at someone behind me. “Vanny, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I knew you were coming, I would have told her…”

Not to come? I could be a better person for Oscar. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to make you choose between us.” That had him making a croaking noise that I waved off. “Don’t be dumb. Give me a hug.”

The clean, young lines of his face twisted and strained, but he nodded and quickly wrapped his arms around me. He whispered into my ear, “We have a game against San Antonio in a couple weeks. Come please. Both of you.”

I pulled back and nodded a little more tightly than I would have liked. I really didn’t want to make him feel bad, but just knowing Susie was in my general vicinity made me go to ten. Having Susie around when I’d driven an hour to come see Oscar pissed me off that much more. “I will. I’m not sure about the Hulk here with his schedule, but I’ll go.” I smiled at him. “I’ll see you soon then. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Vanny.” Teeth locked, he glanced at Aiden and extended his hand again. “It was nice meeting you. Good luck the rest of your season.”

The big guy nodded and shook his hand. “Thanks. You too.”

I sensed the evil almost immediately. I spotted my sister and her idiot husband within seconds of turning around. It was like my body was tuned in to know where she was at; it always had been. It was a protective instinct, it had to be.

Apparently, she found me in the crowd immediately too. She was glowering, her mouth twisting as her gaze bounced from me to Aiden and back again. Almost four inches shorter than me and only two years older, Susie looked so much older than her actual age, but that was the consequences of drugs, heavy drinking, and just being a miserable bitch in general. Unhappiness prematurely aged a person, my foster mom had told me once. She was right.

But I still couldn’t summon up any sympathy for my older sister. I believed in choices. We’d grown up in the same environment, went to the same schools, and had about the same intelligence, I figured. She’d always been a ruthless, angry, mean person, but at thirteen, she’d started doing stupid crap that led to more stupid crap and more stupid crap and more stupid crap until she was buried under so much crap, she could never replace her way out of it.

You couldn’t expect anyone to take care of you better than you could take care of you.

Summoning up every inch of adult in me, I told myself not to be petty. I wouldn’t be petty no matter how much I wanted to. So I forced out a “Hi, Susie. Hi, Ricky,” at both her and her crackhead significant other, the same one who had given me a bruise and had gotten damn near kicked in the balls for it.

Just as suddenly as the thought entered my head, the big body next to me suddenly froze in place. I didn’t need to look at him to know his entire frame went rigid; I could feel it. Feel him. “Is that him?” he asked in a low voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

“Who?” I was dumb enough to ask.

“The guy who gave you the bruise on your arm.”

The ‘oh shit’ on my face must have been enough for him, because the instant I thought the answer—the ‘yes it’s that bastard’—a muscle in Aiden’s cheek popped. And he was gone. Those long legs ate up the few feet of concrete between us and Susie. Before I could say a word, stop him, tell him that guy wasn’t worth the energy it took Aiden to get riled up, The Wall of Winnipeg had walked directly into my sister’s husband’s path, effectively stopping the five-foot-ten-ish man in place. Considering he was never close enough to most human beings to really illustrate how large he really was, in that moment, with the two of them mere feet apart from each other, the difference was striking. Aiden dwarfed him in every way.

But it wasn’t the obvious size difference that shocked me. It was the way Aiden, a professional athlete at the peak of his career, was reacting. I had never seen him so still. He was breathing out of his nose like a goddamn dragon. His biceps were so bunched and strained, I could tell from even under his hoodie, and he had the single cockiest expression on his face that I had ever seen, and that was saying something because I thought I’d witnessed the most annoying of all his expressions. But the one he had on right then, put all the rest to shame.

Aiden was pissed. Pissed. The king of control looked like he wanted to rip apart my sister’s boyfriend/husband/whatever the hell he was.

And it was what he said next that tore me in half.

The Wall of Winnipeg stared down at the much smaller man, and in a voice that was as close to a cool, unattached statement as possible, he said, “Touch my wife again, and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”

My wife. Not Vanessa. He’d gone with my wife.

He’d cussed. For me. For my honor. He’d said the ‘G’ word and it was just about the most romantic thing I’d ever heard in my life because Aiden didn’t do that.

Then he steered that acid-like gaze to my sister, who suddenly looked more uncomfortable than anyone in the world had ever been. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel the disgust. I could feel words bouncing around in his head, shaping his tongue. I was sure Susie could sense them, too.

It was right then, in that instant, that I realized I might be a little in love with Aiden. Not in a way that was anything like the easy crush I had on him in the past, but different. So, so different.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Seriously? I asked myself. Are you fucking serious, Vanessa?