Page 82 of Fractured Souls
“Please don’t—”
“Like, you wouldn’t feel anything. I mean, I wouldn’t. And when I look at guys I don’t feel shit. What sexuality is that? Huh? I mean objectively you are a handsome fucking dude, but I don’t want to touch you.”
“Oh no, so hurt,” he says flatly.
He swings, nearly catching me on the chin. Sweat drips from my skin. “So like, what is that? Why him? Why now? Is itbecause I know him so well, is it? I don’t know. And I love women, they’re so hot.”
“Objectively, yes they are.” He swings hard, connecting with my side, and I double over trying to catch my breath. “Not that I give a shit.”
“Are you gay?”
Aiden goes to knee me, but I catch his leg, slamming him onto his back with a grunt. This sneaky asshole.
“I’m none of your goddamn business,” he breathes, struggling to stand up. When he’s upright he puts his fists back in front of his face.Do we not get tired?!Aiden swings twice as hard, frustration furrowing his brow. “Didn’t he go on a date with that guy?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. He didn’t say much about it when they got back.” When I’d asked Bo about it, after he got home last weekend, he didn’t say much. They had a great time, I guess, but Bo has been a bit closed off since. Amira’s words are stuck in my mind, though.
Do I have romantic feelings for him? “That guy would be perfect for him. He’s super hot, can bake—like a real proper pastry chef. He said he loves grand gestures and romance, but that’s not Bo at all.”
“That guy sounds like he lives in fantasy land.”
“Bo?”
“No, the high-maintenance guy he went on a date with.” He swings again.
“You know, I tried with a guy . . . gave me head a couple of months ago—” Aiden swings close to my mouth. “I only came because I thought of Bo.”
Aiden steps back, pressing his fists into his eyes. “You have not shut up once since I came down here and started punching you.” He swings hard, hitting my bicep. “Shut.” He swings again. “Up!”
“Excuse my fucked-up brain. Apologies.”
“And we’re still talking,” he whispers.
Aiden walks over to the corner to grab his water bottle, squirting some into his mouth and then resting against the ropes. I wasn’t lying to him. Objectively he’s a hot guy, but I’m not going to lie, he’s a bit scary. He’s a couple of inches shorter than me with these oddly violet eyes that are constantly glaring at me. His muscles aren’t as bulky, but maybe stronger than mine. He's a fighter. I can tell. He's not new to a boxing ring. We’ve been going at it for nearly twenty minutes and I’m exhausted while he's barely broke a sweat.
“What do you think?”
“Don’t not engage. Do not engage,” he whispers to himself.
“If he loved me, he’d tell me, right?” Why wouldn’t he?
“I just want to punch shit.” Aiden curses under his breath. “Why would he tell you?”
“What?”
“If I were him, which I’m not, thank god, I wouldn’t tell you. You can barely understand what’s going on yourself. You think he doesn’t sense that shit? I met you like weeks ago and you haven’t shut the fuck up since then.” Aiden shakes his head. “I wouldn’t risk my ego on something like that. You need to get your shit together.”
Scratching my head, I don’t understand. Bo tells me everything. Only lately, I don’t think that’s the case.
Aiden bends to place his water bottle on the edge of the ring, his chest still heaving with exertion. Sweat drips down his chest.
“What would you do?”
“You’re asking the wrong person.” He rests against the ropes. “The thought of even being in a relationship makes my skin crawl. I don’t understand why you’re all obsessed with it.”
“With . . . love?”
Aiden shakes his head, looking away. “Romance, answering to someone, fighting over stupid bullshit. Having someone in your space all the fucking time. It seems way too tedious.” He rolls his shoulders. “Pointless,” he says quietly. “At this point I’d let Mr. Fantasyland have him. He seems like a lot of mental work too. If I were your friend, I’d be running far and fast from all of you.”
