Page 19 of Broken Pregnant Mate
I remind myself that he only kissed me to hide his identity. To make me feel better, in a way, to protect me from Vern.
So why did it feel likehewanted it, too? Why did I notice the way he pressed his fingers into my biceps, the sharp tug, the way he tucked my body into his like he wanted to slot me there forever?
“Are you?” he asks, and it takes me a moment to catch up, to remember what he said before I started thinking about the kiss again, replaying it in my mind like a movie highlight.
“What?” I ask, raising my eyebrows, trying to keep my voice light.
He gestures generally toward the kitchen. “Hungry.”
I nod. I’m not actually hungry, but I need Aidan’s eyes off of me. Maybe if he’s getting food ready, he won’t be looking at me like this.
Because right now, he’s looking at me like he doesn’t have another mate, waiting for him somewhere. He’s looking at me like that kiss felt like something to him, too. Something more than a rouse, hiding his identity, protecting me like he always has.
And I can’t handle it. The back and forth, the hope when I know there isn’t any. That’s how I managed to get through itback when I lived with Vern—Iknewthere wasn’t hope for me. I expected nothing, and got exactly what I thought I would.
“Alright.” Aidan turns to the fridge, opens it, and slides a frozen pizza from a very small freezer compartment. “I’ll pop this in. Should we…watch a movie?”
The idea of sitting in a dark room with him sounds like torture. I clear my throat, look around, panic starting to build in my chest.
“I’m actually feeling pretty beat…can you show me where I’ll sleep?”
A blush spreads out over Aidan’s cheeks, and he clears his throat, abandoning the frozen pizza on the counter and turning to me, his eyes a bit skittish.
“Well, you can take my bed, and I’ll take the sofa. There is a motel on the edge of Badlands, but it’s on the border side, and we’ve seen in the past that it’s not really that safe. So, until you find your own place, I’d prefer if you stayed here.”
I swallow, eyes darting to the door on the other side of the bookshelf. His bedroom. I’ll be sleeping in his bed.
The thought of that makes me stupidly flushed, and I know I have to stop it immediately. The last thing I want is to trigger my heat, which happens to me when I’m stressed.
Taking a deep breath, I hold it and let it out until my heart starts to slow, the beats evening out. Aidan’s eyes are on me, concern etched into his features.
“Okay,” I finally manage. “That sounds fine.”
***
It is not fine.
The sandstorm is still wailing away outside, the wind whipping past the windows, and I am absolutely drenched in Aidan’s scent, even though he changed the sheets for me, dragging the dirty ones out to the couch for himself.
I’d stayed completely still, pressed against the wall, like I needed to hold myself back from touching him.
And maybe that’s true—maybe, if I’d gotten too close, I would have snapped onto him like a magnet, tipping my head up to his and asking for another kiss.
Pathetic.
He made it clear a long time ago that I wasn’t what he wanted—at least, not like that. His mate is out there, and he’s probably waiting to claim her after his fight with Jerrod Blacklock.
Even if I was able to have Aidan now, even if he touched me the way I wanted, kissed me, and ran his hands over my skin, I would only be a pit stop.
And that might actually kill me.
Now, I roll over onto my stomach, wondering if I could get away with a scream into the pillow. My entire body feels like a live wire, every brush of his sheets against my skin electric.
I want him. Every five minutes, I swear I hear him walking in the living room, and I think the door to the bedroom might open, that he might push it open and step inside, his eyes snapping to me in his bed.
Thinking about that, I flip over onto my back, propping my head up on the pillow, thinking about what I might want him to see if he did. I’m wearing one of his T-shirts, which is ridiculously large on me, especially with his recent bulk up.
Kicking the sheets and blankets down the bottom of the bed, I turn over on my stomach, letting his shirt ride up so if he opened the door, he would see me here in my panties, in his shirt, legs tangled in his sheets.
