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I’ve calmed down enough to start walking.
It’s funny that even now, his touch comforts me. After everything I’ve been through, I didn’t think it was possible. I’ve tried to find contentment in my boyfriends, but it never worked. It’s a bit annoying that my fake boyfriend gives me more comfort than any of the rest.
It’s because it’s him.
I shake my head, not wanting to think about what that means for my heart. Instead, I pay attention to where I’m at. Making my way through this crowded place.
I’m shoved by some meathead who isn’t paying attention, and my body stiffens. My legs turn to jelly, and that familiar fear creepy crawls its way in.
Aiden spins me around, crouching down to look into my eyes.
“Cassidy, look at me. I’ve got you.” He pulls me into his arms, and his mint and leather scent washes over me. It instantly soothes me.
I stay in his arms for only a moment, allowing myself to fully relax, and then push away from him.
“I’m okay. I’m just on edge from tonight. It’s been…a lot.”
“We’re going home.”
My head shakes violently. I don’t want that. I can’t start this business relationship like this. Not on a freak-out that he’s misunderstanding.
“I’d rather have the drink,” I say, offering a smile that I’m sure misses the mark.
His eyes narrow, but he nods, stepping in front of me and grabbing my hand to lead.
It’s hard to maneuver around the throngs of people, but lucky for me, Aiden guides us expertly through the crowd, attempting to get as close to the bar as possible. To get me the drink I so desperately need for about a million reasons.
They’re all hoping and praying the bartender will take pity on them and ask for their order, but with a bar full of NHL players, they might be there for a while.
Good luck to them.
This place is insane.
Complete chaos.
So much so, that it’s actually perplexing that Aiden, or at least the Aiden I remember, would ever be caught dead here.
But I guess, like me on his arm, it’s part of the act. A well-constructed wall erected to keep him momentarily safe while secretly fighting a battle royale internally. One likely similar to what I’m experiencing.
My footsteps slow, but his hand tightens around mine and gives me a squeeze, urging me on.
“Come on. We’re almost there,” he says from beside me.
I lift onto my tippy-toes while trying to keep up the pace, looking to see where he’s leading me. My anxiety ebbs when I realize we’re headed away from the bar and the massive crowd standing around it.
The guys are in their own area, away from the mayhem.
Pulling my gaze away from the guys, I look at Aiden, studying his profile.
Yep, his calm nonchalance is all an act. Maybe someone less observant wouldn’t see it, but I can tell by the tension in his jaw, the straight line of his lips, and his rigid posture.
He’s walking a thin line, just barely keeping himself in check. This must be killing him.
Aiden has always hated crowds. He told me back at the trailer that he tried to work on controlling his anxiety, but he hated it. It looks like he’s doing better than the last time I saw him, but at what cost to him? How will he suffer later?
The thing about the quirks that make Aiden unique is that every ounce of strength he possesses goes into controlling himself from exposing what he deems weakness to the outside world. This leaves him physically and mentally exhausted. The toll is hefty.
He ushers me through a roped-off area in the back, and I’m immediately on high alert.
