Page 107 of That Rush

Aiden’s family does. They are loud, close, and accustomed to sharing everything. They will learn my birthday, remember my coffee order, and assume I belong in group pictures before I know where to stand. I could disappear inside that much affection.

Aiden heard that fear and changed how he pursued me. I heard his fear tonight and told him he was wrong to have one.

I pick up my phone rather than build a more flattering version of events.

He answers on the third ring. “Paige.”

His voice is cautious. That might be worse than anger.

“Are you home?”

“Just got here.”

“Is Josie awake?”

“She’s asleep at my parents’ house. Mom kept her because I was helping you tonight.”

And there it is: another piece of his effort I accepted without asking what it required of him.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I know you didn’t.”

I sit on the arm of the couch. “Is Saturday dinner still happening?”

A pause stretches between us.

“Yes.”

“With the same people?”

“Yes.”

“Your parents, your siblings, their partners, the kids, and no surprise cousins wandering in because they smelled food from three ranches away?”

His breath changes, and I can hear the smile he is trying to hide. “That is a risk at any Slade gathering.”

“Aiden.”

“I’ll keep the doors locked.”

“That seems like a fire hazard.”

“I’ll tell Dad the guest list is fixed.”

I press my lips together. “I am saying yes. Do not make me regret it by inviting thirty cousins.”

“You’re coming?”

The care in his question dismantles every defense I prepared.

“I’m coming because I want to know the people who matter to you. That doesn’t mean I was wrong. You kept inviting your entire family on our dates.”

“You weren’t wrong.” His answer comes without argument. “I wanted you in my life, and I kept trying to make it happen according to my schedule.”

“I also kept expecting you to fit inside mine.”

“We haven’t made it easy on each other.”