Page 27 of Worth

I chuckle under my breath as I follow him into the kitchen. There’s nothing waiting for me this morning, but when he whips open a cupboard chock-full of every type of cereal I’ve only dreamed about in the last couple of years, I almost knock him out in the process of getting to it.

“Easy, Kitten,” he laughs as I snag a box of Lucky Charms, holding it protectively to my chest. “There’s plenty to go around.”

Two bowls of Lucky Charms later, Aiden leads me outside the house, holding out his hand with a smile. I slip my hand into his, and he immediately laces our fingers together, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.

“Why do you keep doing that?” I ask, letting him guide me down the steps and into a grassy area.

“Doing what?”

“Kissing me.”

“Do you not want me to?” He looks back at me curiously, and maybe a little worried.

I shake my head. “I don’t mind. I just...I’m not used to it, I guess.”

Aiden smirks. “Then I’ll be sure to do it twice as much.” His face falls. “Zander tells me that affection keeps me tied to my humanity.” He glances over his shoulder at me again with a dark look as he stops in the center of the yard, our fingers still locked together. “But you already know that I’m not always tied to it, I guess. Usually, it’s Zander who helps me find my way back.”

I have so many questions hitting the back of my teeth, but I don’t want to upset him either. I don’t know what will trigger him and what won’t. Though it could also be because I’m afraid that whatever he will tell me may force me to accept that I’m not tied to my own humanity like I should be anymore, either.

Aiden spends all morning with me, going over self-defense tactics and the proper way to hit to reduce the risk of injuring myself because he claims the first step to murdering someone is knowing how to keep yourself from being murdered—which kind of makes sense. By the time the sun is at its peak in the sky, we’ve all but beaten the shit out of each other.

Every time he shows me maneuvers to disarm an attacker or grabs me so I can put them into motion, his body tends to graze mine. At first, I thought it was on purpose, but I realized quickly that he really was just trying to show me moves and not trying to kick start my libido.

I didn’t know beating the shit out of each other could be foreplay. The sexual tension I feel is off the fucking charts, and it’s worse seeing how relaxed Aiden is—like he doesn’t feel it at all.

I take Aiden down when he grabs me from behind by reaching between my legs and yanking his leg through. He lands with anoomphon his back and I grin down at him, offering my hand to help him up. Instead, when he takes it, he helps medown, making me tumble into the grass next to him.

“Hey,” I complain.

“I’m glad I accidentally caught you, Kitten,” Aiden murmurs, pressing his forehead against my shoulder.

He’s got that same look he did when I woke to him snuggling into me—like he’s craving touch. Hesitantly, I reach out and stroke my fingers through his hair. His eyes close and a satisfied rumble sounds in his chest, so I do it again.

“Aiden?”

“Hmm?” he hums distractedly, his hand splaying out over my stomach. I can feel the warmth of his skin through my tank top.

“Is that—Was Aiden your name before you were a Skin?”

His eyes blink open to meet mine, but he doesn’t pull away while I keep dragging my fingers through his hair. “I never had a name before I was a Skin. I was sold for the first time as an infant.”

I feel hatred for the mother who sold him. “Oh.”

“They called me Gray there,” he continues without prompting, his tone more suited for discussing the weather than his traumatic history. “But when I was four, the couple who had purchased me had their own baby, and they resold me. I was sold several times between then and when my last owner purchased me.”

I can’t keep staring into his eyes, the candid way he’s talking makes me feel like I could cry, so I look away. I can remember when I saw Skins as a teenager and thought nothing of it. That’s just the way things were in the world. Now, I wonder how many times I passed Skins like Aiden, who were picked up and abandoned on repeat—or, for that matter, Skins who were treated like Damien had treated me. I feel guilt seeping into me.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my fingers halting.

“Why are you sorry?”

He sounds so genuinely stumped that I give a soft laugh as I shake my head. “How did you come up with Aiden?” I say instead.

Laughing, he brushes his nose against my arm and my hand falls from his head. “That was the name on the ID of the first person I ever pickpocketed. I did a horrible job of it, but I managed to not get caught.”

I hum a laugh. “And Zander?”

Aiden hesitates. “That was a name he picked out for himself. His old name isn’t one he usually shares. You’d have to ask him for it.”

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