Page 42 of No Promises, No Lies

I allow myself a few more minutes to enjoy the warm water before sitting up. I’m feeling a little stronger, but there’s a lingering pounding in the back of my head. The meds have a tendency to make me drowsy. The need to sleep is hanging over me like a dark cloud.

Reaching down, I pull the tub stopper, letting the water drain out. I use the thick, warm towel to dry myself off, wrapping myself carefully in it once finished. Realizing I can’t put my soaked undergarments back on, I stare at the door with uncertainty, feeling awkward about calling Aidan back in here.

The walls of the tub are high, higher than your average bathtub. I contemplate whether or not I can get myself out. My legs quiver at the thought.

Aidan must sense what I’m thinking, because the sound of his voice outside the door nearly sends me jolting into the metal water spout.

“Finished up in there, Angel?” he calls through the crack.

I frown at the name he’s tacked on there with a slightly mocking accent. “Yep.” My answer is short and clipped. I ensure my towel is well and truly secured before bracing both of my palms on the edge of the tub. As I pull myself up, my muscles protest, screaming out as I push them, my body still overwhelmingly weak and shaky.

Aidan pushes the door open in time to see what I am up to, just before my legs give out. He catches me before I hit the tub floor, showing off his sheer strength when he deftly swings me up into his arms, like I weigh nothing at all. He shoots me an irritated look that I give right back to him before he carries me out of the bathroom.

Looking around, I find myself in a large bedroom. The high lofted ceilings and exposed brick give it the illusion of being even larger than it is. Wood furnishings warm up the industrial space and Aidan’s decorated the walls with a few black and white abstract paintings.

A couple of older framed photographs sit atop his dresser. I scan them as we pass by, recognizing one where Aidan stands with the rest of his siblings—Koen, Liam and Reagan—next to an older man I don’t recognize. He wears a broad smile and has an arm wrapped around both Liam and Reagan. He must be their father, Declan O’Rourke.Could Adrik really have killed Aidan’s father?

I’m too preoccupied by my thoughts to notice we aren’t leaving the room. No, instead, Aidan is heading directly for his bed. The second I realize his intentions, I let out a shriek of protest, kicking my legs right before he drops me unceremoniously onto silky black sheets.

I stare up at him, all too aware how only a towel separates our bodies. But as soon as he drops me, he turns away.

My heart is racing in my chest and while keeping my eyes on Aidan, I grope around blindly, trying to get ahold of a blanket, a sheet—anything to pull over me.

Aidan spends a moment rummaging through his closet before finding whatever it is he’s looking for. He heads back in my direction and I desperately try to catch a glimpse of what he holds in his hands, fearing more chains or ropes orworse…

“Arms up.”

I shake my head weakly in protest, unable to fight the tears from welling back up in my eyes. He sighs impatiently before lifting them himself. My eyes shut tight and I bite into my lip.I know I’m too weak to fight him off, to stop him from taking whatever it is he wants.

Soft fabric against my skin is a surprise. Aidan works the oversized hoodie down my arms and over my head before letting it drop, covering the rest of my body. It’s soft and warm, in the way only an old, well-worn hoodie is.

I blink back up at him in surprise.

He points at where the hem of the sweatshirt falls on my thigh. “The towel…” He motions with his hand that I should give it to him. Awkwardly, I shimmy the towel down and hand it over to Aidan. While the hoodie covers all the important bits, I still feel exposed with nothing under it.

He tosses the towel in a hamper by the door and opens one of the dresser drawers. Grabbing a pair of black boxer briefs, he tosses them at me. Stunned, they catch me right in the face. He offers no explanation before he disappears out into the hall, giving me privacy, I realize.

Not trusting him for a second, I eye the door warily while doing my best to tug on the boxer briefs as fast as possible. Once I have them on, I feel slightly better now I’m fully covered. The briefs are too big for me, but after a few rolls of the waistband, they stay up on my hips all on their own.He wouldn’t have given me clothes just to rip them off again…right?

Aidan returns a few minutes later with a couple of bottles of electrolyte water he must have on hand for hockey. He tosses one to me. This time I catch it, before he cracks open his own and downs it in one go. While he hydrates, I have an uninhibited view of him. Warm light seeps into the bedroom from the open bathroom door, which only helps to highlight the rippled masterpiece that is his body.

I would expect as much from any serious pro athlete, but the sight of Aidan’s bare chest, covered in dark ink, has my mouth running dry despite the water. And as much as I want to, I cannot tear my eyes away. They trail over chiseled abs and asculpted chest, to his firm jaw and piercing green eyes. Green eyes watching mine, a slight trace of amusement in them.

Aidan smiles over the water bottle in his mouth and points down. I drop my gaze to find the water bottle he gave me still unopened in my hands. Feeling my cheeks flush red, I busy myself twisting the cap and take a drink. The cool water is a sweet relief against my sore throat. Between the bath and the water, I’m feeling much better.

Clutching the plastic bottle in my hand, I sit stone still atop the bed watching Aidan move around the room, nervous about where we go from here. My body stiffens even further when he suddenly plops down on the mattress beside me, sliding beneath the sheets.

“What are you doing?” I squeak out at a far higher pitch than normal.

“Well, Iwastrying to go to sleep…” Aidan answers pointedly. He rests the back of his head in his hands, his arms spread out across the pillow.

“Not here?” This time, my panic was much harder to hide.

“Yes, here.” He rolls onto his side so he can see me. I’m still sitting up on the bed, fisting the sheets tightly in my hands. “It ismybed after all.”

“Okay…well, should I go back to—” I start shifting out of the bed and freeze when I feel his hand close lightly around my arm, stopping me.

“Kostalova,” he says my last name as though exasperated, “you’re sleeping here—” He gives a light tug and I fall back on the bed beside him. “—Where I can keep an eye on you.” He pauses, regarding me. “Well, that… and you threw up all over the only guest bed so…” He shrugs and releases me, re-assuming his previously relaxed position, stretching out across the mattress. The enormous bed shrinks dramatically with him inside it.

---