Page 31 of His Last Will

“Aiden?”

Nothing.

With no luck, I head to the practice locker room. Rarely used anymore, except for storage and occasional overflow, it’s where I find him. This is your typical locker room: metal lockers, wooden benches, an open shower room. Players don’t use it anymore because they prefer the luxuries of the upgraded one, but Aiden likes it because it’s quiet and he can typically be alone.

The entire place is empty, but steam comes out from the showers. More gently than he deserves, I place Bosco down on the bench in front of Aiden’s spot. He’s in the shower, that much is for sure, but I can’t leave here without getting some of this built-up anger off my chest.

I walk straight into the large shower room. Multiple heads come out of the walls, but nothing separates them, leading to no real privacy, just a large open space. Aiden stands at the far back of the room. He doesn’t turn around, but he knows I’m here. He would have heard me scream his name when I slammed the door open.

Water drips from his hair, down his back muscles, and his defined ass. His tattoos glisten under the water. A large web pattern takes up the entire top half of his back. The piece is large and intricate, with defined lines.

I always used to ask him why he got the web pattern but no spider. I’d assumed it was because Araneae was a classification of spiders. But he would just smirk at me without answering. It always unnerved me when he did that.

I hate how stunning he is. And the jackass knows how stunning he is, which makes it all the more infuriating.

The man might hide his true self in the shadows, but when he comes out from the darkness, his beauty is villainous.

Aiden breaks the silence without turning around, “What do you want, Ari?”

“This is the second time I have found Bosco in my space. He was in my shower for fuck’s sake, Aiden. Keep him out of my room.”

“Was he really? I’m a little jealous.” He huffs a laugh but doesn’t commit to keeping him away.

“Yes, and I swear I will rip his tiny spider dick off if he can’t stay out of my space.”

Aiden hums under his breath but doesn’t seem worried about Bosco’s well-being.

“Aiden, I am serious. Keep your spider to yourself.”

He reaches over and pumps some soap out of the dispenser and turns around. My eyes are transfixed as he spreads the suds up and down his body, his muscles flexing under his touch. The gun tattoo on his forearm letting me know where to look.

Aiden slides his hand from his chest, down his torso, to his defined V, highlighting his hips. With a grunt of acknowledgment that I’m still watching him, he slips his hand to his cock and cups the tip, pulling at the tight skin around the head.

“Enjoying the show, Ari? Or are you going to run away again?”

“Fuck you, Aiden.” But I don’t move, and I don’t look away as he releases his now-hard cock as it bobs up and down slightly. Stepping under the shower again, he closes his eyes as the water cascades down his body. The soap runs off him and circles the drain as he finishes up.

“Well, you have returned Bosco. You can leave now.” He flicks the shower off and grabs his towel, doing a quick dry, water still dripping down his body when he throws it around his neck.

He walks toward me, and I see the anger lurking just beneath the surface. Anger that I am still here, that I came here in the first place.

Aiden walks right past me without acknowledging me further and heads straight for his locker. Bosco is now sitting on the top shelf in the locker, waiting for Aiden to leave.

I turn to go, but something churns in my stomach—something like anxiety or hesitation. Like I can’t leave things this way with Aiden. Like leaving him here would cause a fracture that would be beyond repair.

And this feeling makes me so fucking mad. Why am I second-guessing myself or feeling any sort of hesitation about my relationship with Aiden? If you can even call being held hostage by my dead boyfriend’s will to marry his brother the foundation of a relationship. I should be focused on Brodie and how I am going to honor his memory every day, even if it drowns me in grief.

It’s the kiss.

Aiden’s lips touching mine have caused all this confusion and planted this uncertainty in my life, and Aiden’s angry at me? Well, fuck him; I’m angry at him. He is not allowed to wreck my life with his soft fucking kiss. If anything, I deserve to ruin his life for all the shit he has pulled with me.

Screw all of that.

I spin around and find him facing his open locker as he towel dries his hair. With more strength than I really mean to use, I lunge for him, knocking him against the closed locker door next to him.

He doesn’t make a noise, not in shock or surprise. The only sound is the reverberating metal echoing off the walls. A stillness settles in the air as the quiet descends upon us. My hands are still pressed against his traps, and I feel them tense before he whirls around, grabs my neck, and shoves me up against the same locker.

His tone is deadly when he leans down and says, “Ari, if you touch me like that, you need to be aware of the consequences. If it were anyone else, I would cut your hands off and leave you to bleed out on the floor. But since you are my fiancée, I will give you one warning. If you touch me like that again, I will tie your hands together and fuck you senseless until you are reminded of who is in charge.”