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The Wall of Winnipeg and Me: Chapter 27


“My friends are coming to visit after I get back from the All Star Bowl.”

Leaning against the counter two days after we got back from Toronto, I gulped down the rest of the water in my glass and narrowed my eyes in Aiden’s direction. Sitting at the breakfast table, he’d greeted Zac and me when we’d dragged our feet inside following our run a few minutes ago.

I was exhausted, beyond exhausted, and with only three weeks left until the marathon, I was seriously beginning to doubt I’d be able to finish it. I’d been struggling to finish eighteen miles a week ago, so a little over twenty-six? Eighteen miles was more than I ever imagined I could do, so I realized I wasn’t appreciating the long strides I’d taken over the last few months. Needless to say, I was busy worrying about how the hell I was going to tackle eight more miles when Aiden made his comment.

I blinked at him. “What?”

“My friends are coming to visit…” He trailed off as if making sure I was listening. “After the All Star Bowl.”

I was listening, but I didn’t get why he was giving me a strange, expectant look. He’d learned he was voted into the All Star Bowl when we’d flown back to Dallas from Toronto. He was set to leave tomorrow. “Okay…”

“They’re coming to visit us.”

Slowly backing up toward one of the stools at the island, I slid onto it, forcing my sluggish, distracted brain to focus. Us. He’d said us. They were coming to visit—

Oh shit. “Us.”

He nodded solemnly, watching me closely.

Okay. “And they want to stay here?” I asked, even though it was a stupid question that I already knew the answer to. Every time his friends had come by in the past, they had always stayed with him.

Why would this time be any different?

Oh right, because I lived with him and stayed in the room that had always been used as a guest room.

And because we were legally technically married and had agreed to pull this charade off so neither one of us would get in trouble with the law.

Oh hell.

Realistically, it wasn’t the end of the world, and we could figure something out. We could. We would. It wasn’t a big deal. This was bound to happen at one point or another. “Okay. Do you… I can stay with my friend while they’re here if you want. You can pretend I went to visit someone.” Or maybe I could find a last minute getaway somewhere warm. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten Diana to pretend to be sick so we could go somewhere.

Apparently, my comment irritated him. “This is your house too. I’m not asking you to leave because they’re coming. We knew this was going to happen. They want to see you too. It isn’t a big deal.”

Why did that seem to be his life’s motto when it was something that mostly only affected me? And why wasn’t I telling him that I’d met his friends in the past before and that it really wasn’t necessary for us to see each other now? It didn’t really matter if I was home or not, did it?

“I already told them you were going to be here,” he concluded.

There went my argument.

He scratched his jaw and my gaze stuck to the white-gold wedding band he’d started wearing right after Toronto. I wanted to ask him about it but I was too much of a coward to. “You’ll have to stay in my room,” he explained.

With him obviously. Where the hell else would I sleep? One of the guys usually took the bed and the other crashed out on the couch downstairs.

The problem wasn’t that I would just stay in his room.

The problem was that I would have to stay in his room with him, on his bed, was what he wasn’t telling him, but knew he was implying. It wasn’t like you could exactly hide a blow-up mattress, and I knew this diva sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep on the floor because neither was I.

It’s not a big deal, I told myself. It’ll just be like a sleepover. I’d done sleepovers a thousand times. Aiden and I were adults, sharing a bed didn’t mean anything. We’d already done it the night the lights went out. We’d done it again in Toronto when he surprised me. We would just be, literally, sleeping on opposite sides of a California king-sized bed. Doing it again shouldn’t cause me to lose any sleep over it.

Except for the small fact that I’d been carrying this love I felt for him around my neck since the book convention, and it had only gained weight each day we were together.

“Okay,” I found myself agreeing as my heart warned me I was asking for it. “That’s fine.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know, Van. They’re coming the day after I get back. It’ll work out,” he assured me.


I heard the two loud, male voices before I saw them. Chris and Drew, the only friends Aiden had, other than Zac who had mostly become an acquaintance, and me, his sort-of-fake wife. Saving my work, I closed my laptop and grabbed my tablet with my free hand. I’d already taken everything else I would need for the next few days and moved it into the big guy’s room.

While Aiden wasn’t a clothes whore—his “fancy” wardrobe consisted of three suits, four dress shirts, two dress pants, and a black and brown belt—the rest of his closet was filled with boxes of trophies, shoes and other free clothing that hadn’t been opened, and it was packed. His dresser had the rest of the stuff he typically wore: sweat pants, workout shorts, enough T-shirts to clothe an entire basketball team, and tons of underwear and socks.

The point was, there wasn’t space for my clothes, so it didn’t seem like a stretch for us to say I kept my clothes in the other room if the guys opened my drawers and saw my things inside, which I doubted.

What did worry me was this façade we were going to try and pull off. Why had we agreed not to tell anyone else the truth? Couldn’t we have made some exceptions?

No. I knew we couldn’t. If you told one person something, they told another, and then that person told another, and finally, everyone found out. That’s why we’d both jumped into agreeing to keep it a secret as much as possible.

We could do this. We could play it off, I promised myself as I put my laptop and tablet on the desk in the office. I’d left my desktop computer in my room.

I crept down the stairs listening to… four male voices? I’d barely cleared the landing when I spotted Aiden standing in the living room, circled by three men nearly all in the general vicinity of his size, give or take twenty or thirty pounds. I recognized Chris’s close-cropped hair and Drew’s long, black dreadlocked hair, but it was the back of a blond head I wasn’t familiar with that caught my eye.

“Vanessa,” Aiden called my name. “Come here.”

I swerved my attention over to find him standing there with his hand extended in my direction. I hesitated maybe half a second, not long enough for his friends to turn around and notice, but long enough for Aiden to raise his hand an inch from where it was upturned. His face was so… expectant, so fucking expectant like he didn’t doubt I could play this off, that I realized how badly I needed to, how much my terrible-lying-ass was willing to do to make sure he was happy.

I walked forward and took his hand, steeling myself for this massive lie sitting on my soul.

“You know Drew and Chris,” Aiden said as he gestured toward the men in front of him. Drew was carrying Leo in his arm, letting the little guy go to town nibbling at one of his dreads.

Squeezing Aiden’s hand, I smiled at the two friends I’d met before and reached forward to shake their hands as the blond-headed man took a step forward out of the corner of my eye. “Vanessa?”

It took me a second to recognize the handsome blond-haired, green-eyed man standing in the living room. His hair was a lot shorter than it had been the last time I’d seen him more than six years ago. The fact he’d filled out even more and gotten older only made him look so much more different than the nineteen-year-old I used to know.

“Cain?” I took a step forward, grinning wide.

“No fucking way.” He blinked for a minute, shook his head, and grinned so wide I wasn’t paying attention when he cut the distance between us and hugged the hell out of me, pretty much crushing me against his chest for a moment before pulling back and shaking his head some more. “I can’t believe it.” He hugged me again. “What a small world.”

“I know.” I smiled, so shocked to see him I really couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I’m gonna guess you know each other,” Drew said.

I glanced at him and nodded, glancing back at Cain in surprise. “We went to school together.” Then the pieces all clicked together.

But Cain explained it anyway. “Before I transferred to Michigan, I was at Vandy.” Those green eyes flicked back in my direction as he smiled. “We had what? Three classes together?”

I nodded. “Yeah, and you tried copying off my quizzes for the first two weeks until you talked me into helping you study.” What he hadn’t known was that I didn’t give away my hard work for free, but he’d learned that quickly after I shot him down time after time.

“I can’t believe you’re Aiden’s Vanessa.” Cain glanced at the big guy, who was standing just slightly behind me and to the right.

I wished.

“That’s me,” I said, taking a step back, the side of my hip and butt bumping into Aiden. Almost instinctively, a wrist and then an elbow climbed over my shoulder and the heavy weight of his arm draped over me. I had to tip my head back to find his gaze. Why did he look so serious?

“Where’s Zac?” Drew, Aiden’s friend, asked.

The big guy seemed to shift next to me, his side pressing into mine. “He’s at the gym, isn’t he?”

He was and I was so happy he was taking it seriously enough to keep training even though the season was over and most players were taking a small break—hence, the four of them standing in the living room. Well, at least I knew Chris and Drew played professionally; I wasn’t sure what Cain did now. “Yeah. He’s usually back by four.” We always went for a run afterward, but I wasn’t sure if we were going to go since Aiden’s friends were in town. Then again, they were Aiden’s friends, Zac just happened to get along with them; he got along with everyone.

“Well, I’m hungry, who wants to go out to eat?” Drew asked.

“Me,” the other two that didn’t live with me replied.

The arm around me tightened. On the rare occasion he went out to eat, there were only a couple places he liked. “I’ll choose the place.”

I snorted. “I need to finish two covers by tonight, so I’m going to get back to work. You want me to keep Leo?”

Aiden shook his head. “It isn’t that cold. We’ll take him. I want him to get used to riding around in a car more.”

“Well, you guys have fun. I’ll see you later.”

With a wave to all of them and an extra smile thrown in Cain’s direction, I ran back upstairs. The two covers I was working on were going to be hand-drawn designs, so I set up my brand new tablet and quickly got to work. I’d already jotted down ideas I had, so I quickly set forth drawing the bones for one of them so I could send it off before going any further.

One hour bled into two, and at some point, I heard the door open and a handful of male voices float up the stairs. The low hum of the television reached the office, but I kept on working.

It wasn’t until the garage door opened once more and the voices got louder that I sat up and listened. Sure enough, a few minutes later, someone pounded up the stairs and “Van!” reached me.

“In the office,” I yelled back, already saving my work.

Zac peeked his head into the doorway and grinned. “We goin’?”

“Sure. Let me get dressed.”

He nodded, disappearing in the direction of his room. Sneaking into my bedroom, I grabbed my running clothes—leggings, a long-sleeved thermal shirt, sports bra, socks, and shoes—and darted into Aiden’s room to change. I had just finished pulling up my leggings when the door to the bedroom opened and Aiden came in, shutting it behind him.

I smiled as I sat on the edge of the bed, my heel on the mattress. “How was lunch?”

He lifted a shoulder and eyed me, leaning against the door. “Good.”

“What restaurant did you go to? The Chinese place, that café you like, or Thai?” I asked playfully, slipping my sock on.

“We went to eat Chinese.”

“Where’s Leo?” I asked.

“Downstairs,” was his curt reply before going with, “Did you and Cain date?”

My sock fell out of my hand. “What?”

Aiden straightened his upper back as he pushed off the door he’d been leaning against. His face was so remote, I had no idea what the hell that was supposed to mean. “Were you and Cain together?” he repeated himself.

I kept my gaze on him as I reached down and picked up the sock. “Ahh, no.”

His cheek twitched.

“No.” I blinked. “The only reason he started talking to me back then was because he wanted to copy off my work.”

Why was he making that face?

“I’m serious. That was the only reason we became friends.”

He was still making that damn face.

“What? Okay, maybe I thought he was cute, but that’s all.” I shrugged. “Guys like that don’t like girls like me, big guy.” Honestly, while it was the truth, I had no idea why the hell I’d said it.

His nostrils flared and his shoulders drew back. “Guys like what?”

Damn it. There went me feeling awkward as hell. “You know…” I made myself look down as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Like that.”

“Like me?” he asked in a low voice.

“Not you-you, necessarily. I just mean… look, it doesn’t matter. I know what I have to work with.” I was all right looking. Every so often, I got hit on. But I wasn’t a major bitch, I worked hard, my crazy was usually under control, and I thought that mattered more than a face that would eventually get wrinkled. “When you can pretty much date whoever you want, and most of you guys can, I’m not going to be at the top of anybody’s list—”

“Shut up, Vanessa,” he snapped.

I scoffed. “You shut up.”

“Van!” Zac exclaimed, banging on the bedroom door. “Chop, chop!”

Getting to my feet, I quickly slipped my shoes on and shot Aiden a frown. “Look, we never did anything more than eat dinner a few times and study for tests together. I never had any dreams of being his girlfriend or any crap like that, and he never gave me the impression he was interested. I’m not going to do or say anything to jeopardize this between us, okay? You’re the guy I signed paperwork with.”

He didn’t move away from the door even as I approached it. What did happen was that he seemed to be grinding his teeth together.

I touched the middle of his chest; the big, perfectly developed slabs of his six-pack hardened under my fingers. “I promise, big guy. I would never break my promise to you. You know that.” When he didn’t say anything, I used my chin to gesture toward the door. “I need to go. When I get back, I’ll make a few casseroles or something so you don’t have to go out to eat again. Okay?”

Grudgingly, Aiden nodded and moved aside to let me open the door. Zac stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Come on, darlin’. We’re on a tight schedule.”


Five hours later, my legs were all noodle-like and I felt sick. It went passed exhaustion and dehydration—we’d started carrying water reservoirs on packs around our back. I felt like I had the flu. We had taken it easy after our long run two days ago, and our day off had been yesterday. But a puny seven miles with a negative split had damn near killed me. My knees. My ankles. My shoulders. Every single thing ached. Pounding back water hadn’t made me feel any better, drinking coconut water hadn’t helped, sitting down to rest didn’t make a difference, and neither did taking a shower and putting on pajamas.

I’d had to pull up a chair in front of the stove to cook dinner for goodness sakes.

Even Zac wasn’t faring too much better. He’d gone straight upstairs to shower after we got back and had taken his food to his room to eat. It was only through sheer will that I sat in the living room with the guys and ate dinner while watching a basketball game, since we didn’t have a dining room table.

What the hell had I been thinking trying to do a marathon? Why hadn’t I gone with a half one to start off with and work up from there?

“You need some help?” a slightly familiar voice asked from somewhere behind me.

Glancing over my shoulder as I rinsed the dishes so I could set them in the dishwasher, I spotted Cain standing in the kitchen with a few glasses in hand. The guys had all headed outside a little while ago, wanting to break in the fire pit. Chris had offered to do the dishes, but Aiden never got to see his friends, so I told him I could do it.

Even if I ended up passed out in the middle of it.

“If you want,” I replied.

“Scoot over.”

I did and let him take the spot closest to the dishwasher. I rinsed off a dish and passed it over to him, smiling tiredly. “Thanks for helping.”

“No problem.” His forearm brushed mine as I handed him another plate. “When’s the marathon you’re doing?” he asked, pointing out that he’d been paying attention when Chris had asked me about it during the commercials over dinner.

“In about two weeks.” Just saying the number out loud made me want to throw up. I barely survived running twenty miles days ago. How was I going to add six point two more?

“That’s cool.”

I was too tired to try and make a joke about how not cool it was while I was on the verge of dying. “What have you been up to since school?”

We hadn’t seen each other since the end of the spring semester of our freshman year. Cain had transferred schools the next fall, and even though I didn’t remember whether he’d ever called or text messaged me afterward, he might have. I’d been in the middle of recuperating from my accident and those next six months had gone by hazily, a mix of pain medicine and anger. I hadn’t been anyone’s friend then other than Diana’s, and that was mostly because she wouldn’t let it be any other way, and truthfully, I hadn’t given Cain much thought after that.

“I’m in Philadelphia now. I was in San Diego before that for a few years, but everything is great,” he said as he bent over to set the dish in the lower rack of the dishwasher. “How long have you and Graves been together?”

Considering I wasn’t sure how much Chris and Drew had told Cain, much less what Aiden told them, I was going to wing it. “Well, I worked for him for two years. We’ve been living together for five months now.” That way I didn’t have to get too specific.

“For real?”

“For real.”

“Huh,” he kind of muttered under his breath. “That’s… surprising.”

A faint reminder of what I had told Aiden in the bedroom earlier flicked through my brain, and I had to keep from snickering.

His elbow touched mine again as he took another plate from me, his green-eyed gaze reaching mine for a moment. “You look fucking great by the way.”

Everyone telling me I looked greatly recently only made me really self-conscious about what they used to think of me before. Did I look like shit? “Oh, thanks.” My weight had always yo-yoed depending on how much exercise I was doing. I gained it really easily and lost it really easily, but I couldn’t remember freshman year where I was, but it might have been at one of my heaviest periods.

Yeah, the silence after that was just plain weird. Luckily, it didn’t take long to finish rinsing everything off and setting the dishwasher to clean. Cain headed out while I wiped the counters off. I was so tired, but it was only nine o’clock at night. I grabbed a glass of water and chugged half of it down before trudging outside to see the guys for a little bit longer.

Pushing open the French doors leading to the patio with the last little bit of strength I had left, the heat from the stone fire pit hit me in the face immediately. In the second it took for my eyes to adjust, I found all four of the guys sitting around it in various stages of wide-open legs and slouches, hanging out.

“You finally made it,” Drew, the nicer of the two, exclaimed. On his lap was the blond ball of fur, completely passed out. Apparently, Leo had won someone else over in no time at all.

“Yeah,” I said pretty weakly, dead on my feet and realizing there were only four seats and they were all taken up.

“Here, take my seat,” Drew said quickly.

“Oh, that’s okay.”

“Sit with me,” Aiden suggested, or maybe demanded, without hesitation.

I stared at him, squeezing the cool glass lightly between my hands, debating whether to excuse myself or take a seat because there wasn’t another option. What was I going to do? Offer to take the floor when there was a perfectly good leg I could sit on? A leg that belonged to the man his friends believed I’d married out of love. Okay, come on.

For a moment, I thought about dragging out one of the dining room chairs, but it would just seem weird. And I really didn’t want to walk any more than I needed to.

I mean, it wasn’t like this was the first time I’d sat on someone’s leg. Friends did that kind of stuff. Married people snuggled, at least that’s what I reasoned with myself. Not because I wanted to sit on his lap or anything. Nope.

I dodged around the only set of long legs in my way and stopped right by Aiden’s knees, watching as he spread them. I let myself glance at his face, shadowed by the fire, and took a deep breath. It was his idea, wasn’t it? Turning my body so my back was to him, I slowly lowered myself onto the middle of his thigh, forever conscience that I wasn’t exactly ninety-eight pounds heavy. My butt hit the middle of that intensely muscular leg, and just as I started to get comfortable so my back was straight, he lifted his foot. With one big palm to the side of my waist, he pulled me in so that I slid all the way up to where his hip met his leg, off to one side of the cradle of his groin. My entire side pressed into his chest.

My face didn’t go hot or anything, but my pulse went nuts in reaction as I took in our positions. I appreciated the arm that happened to sling low across my back, his palm resting on my hip, cupping it over the flannel material of my pajamas. His other hand was busy, the thumb wrapped around the inside of my knee while the four other fingers framed the outer side of it.

My entire body lit up, aware of the sweet smell to Aiden. How big the muscles under my bottom were. How warm and well developed the muscles searing into my arm and chest were. And how close his face was to mine.

He was looking at me, that subtle side inspection that I could feel into the deepest part of my belly. The corner of his mouth was tilted just slightly up in what was half a smirk and half a smile, all Aiden.

I smiled at him nervously and maybe a little shyly as I slowly pulled my arm up from its space between our bodies and slipped it around those wide shoulders I noticed at least five times a day every day.

“Good?” he whispered, the arm warming my lower back flexing.

“Yes. Am I crushing you?” I whispered.

“You and your questions.” He seemed to peer at me closely. “You’re not feeling good?”

Was it that noticeable? “No,” I said loud enough for only him to hear. “I feel sick and everything hurts.”

“How many miles did you run?”

“Only seven.”

He murmured something under his breath, his body stirring under mine. “You should elevate your legs. Is your knee bothering you?”

“Everything is bothering me,” I whined, and I didn’t even feel bad about it.

A low, soft snicker puffed against my ear and that big hand shifted over my knee. Before I could react, Aiden moved me so I was sitting across him. One of his hands was on one thigh and the other landed on my shin.

He cupped my calf with that big hand and began to knead.

Seriously, a tingle shot up the back of my thigh and lower back. There was no way to stop the sound of pleasure and pain that came out of me. “Oh my god,” I muttered under my breath, sounding more like a pant.

A small chuckle nudged at the side of my cheek as he massaged my calf, then worked his way up to my quadriceps. Of course his hands were strong; I seriously felt my leg go numb with how good and bad it felt at the same time.

“I should tell you that you don’t have to do that.” I had to suppress another gurgle when he hit a tender spot high on my calf. “I’m not. That feels amazing. Thank you.”

An almost indecipherable grunt came out of Aiden’s throat, but I was way too gone to pay attention. The arm around my back tightened, clutching me closer. His fingers worked slow and steady, from the muscles right above my ankle to even higher, so high if I was any less tired than I was, I would have realized it was too close to the seam of my underwear.

The soft lull of conversation from Aiden’s friends went in one ear and out the other, and I only caught brief words here and there. Aiden didn’t talk much as we sat there around the chiminea and he rubbed one of my legs and then the other as best as he could, which was the same way he did everything. The best. I couldn’t help but focus more on his steady breaths and the pressure of his hands than what the guys were actually talking about.

That was the strange part. I usually couldn’t sit somewhere doing nothing without getting bored, but I found myself doing just that minus the bored part. With a big, warm body surrounding me, and a small fire going strong feet away, I just let myself relax.

And I kept relaxing as I listened to his friends argue about some football player, I thought. The occasional rumble of Aiden piping in with his low voice so close to my ear kept me company. I didn’t even notice when my head landed on his chest, or when my forehead hit the side of his throat.

His palm slid to the meatiest side of my thigh, four fingers on my hamstrings, one finger on the top. His other forearm draped over both of my knees. I definitely didn’t notice when I put my hand on his stomach, much less when I snuck it under the Henley he had on and palmed the square-shaped muscles covered by soft, hair-freckled skin under my fingers.

I was barely aware of Aiden shifting his grip, after who knew how long, to practically cradle me. I was dozing, more asleep than awake. More comfortable than I should have been in a man’s arms. A man who I was in love with, but didn’t love me back, and more than likely never would. His heart already belonged somewhere else.

I was only half aware when, at some point later, Aiden got to his feet with me in his arms and said in a voice quiet enough so that it wouldn’t wake me, “I’m putting her to bed.”

And Drew asked, “You coming back?”

With Aiden answering, “No. I’m tired. You want to give me the little guy?”

“Nah. I’ll keep him tonight. I promise I won’t crush him.”

I was yawning, fighting the sleep that had pulled me and my bones under, wanting but not really wanting to open my eyes and walk to his bedroom on my own two feet. When he swung me up higher as he headed into the house, I yawned again, nosing the side of his neck with my fingers along his collarbone, absently feeling how smooth the skin there was.

“I got you,” he whispered in that quiet, grumbling voice.

Who was I to tell him no?

I fell back asleep. Unaware of him laying me on the bed and taking my slippers and socks off.

And I definitely missed the rough way he pressed his mouth against my temple before he turned off the light, plugged in a nightlight I had no idea he’d bought, and got undressed himself.


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