Page 14 of Thanking Her Brother's Best Friends

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AIDEN

"Don't worry about the shop," the pretty brown-haired girl called out as I half-pulled Selene out and toward my car. "I'll close up once I'm done."

I'd taken advantage of the second of dumbfounded silence that resulted from my last reply to get her out of herPâtisserie du Ciel.

She got into the car with little resistance, but I could see she was trying to come up with some kind of reply. I wanted to tell her a lot of things too.

For one, I really wanted her to know that I'd spent a pretty fucked up couple of days dreaming about her. This never happened to me. Usually, with women, I got what I wanted, and that was it.

I didn't do serious relationships. I had nothing against women. In fact, Dominic liked to say that I just went from one to the next because I "loved all of them a little too much."

But honestly, my apartment had a single bed, one toothbrush, and one towel. It had every other imaginable comfort, but all of this was designed for one human being. No one got to stay over.

"I have to get back here to take my car," Selene finally grumbled. She was sitting close by, and I could get a whiff of everything she'd been working with this morning—citrus, chocolate, salted butter.

Perhaps something minty and some kind of a berry emulsion. She smelled fucking delicious.

My reason for being here was pretty basic. When I set my eyes on someone, I needed to have them.

You could mistake this as my ego or my penis talking on behalf of my brain, but I saw it more as a philosophy.

At least, if I didn't win this round, I'd go down trying. That was worth more than sitting back and watching her slip by. Somehow, I didn't want that.

"Don't worry about your car, Selene," I replied. "I can have one of the boys pick it up for you. And thanks for saying yes to this."

"But I didn't," she sputtered. "You pretty much kidnapped me back there."

I let out a wry chuckle. "Consider it a social service, Miss. You work way too hard."

From the corner of my eyes, I saw her full mouth open and close. Did she even know how beautiful she was? She had all the curves, hair like red sunset, and the most impossibly blue eyes.

I remembered her being cute enough in school, but back then, my defense mechanism relied on my being an absolute asshole to girls.

It was what I'd unconsciously learned from my father and brothers. They taught me that being vulnerable meant being exploited.

And I ingrained that into my system right until the time I started working and made thestupid, stupidmistake of falling in love.

We were supposed to achieve great things together. Somewhere down the line, she decided her version of greatness didn't align with mine, which meant she deserved better. It was fair enough. Many would ask why I didn't stay and fight.

You can't fight for something that's already dead.

Sure, you could cherish the memories and hold on to the good times—and we did have those. But in the grand scheme of things, you couldn't stop a progression just by saying, "We can still make this work."

And once I re-learned this, life became better for me too. I didn't need that kind of love any longer. I was fine on my own.

Selenereminded me of the things I'd felt in the first few weeks of being in love, though. Those same butterflies, that same sense of wonder that painted everything a stupid shade of pink.

Even in the damned car, I wondered what her lip gloss tasted like, how her hair would feel under my fingers, if she remembered that one time I saw her crying in school and got her chocolate.

"So, what made you who you are, Selene Baker?"

"Hmm?" she asked, her tone softer. "Are you seriously asking about my history? When did you become so interested in the lives of women, Aiden Brown? Last I heard, you were simply content with sleeping around."

I smiled, not in the least bit offended. She was a refreshing change from the women who understood I didn't do relationships and still went along thinking they could get me to change.

"Let's just say I'm interested in you," I replied, casting a sideways look at her. She'd left the window open, and the wind was doing magical shit with her hair, making it fall over her eyes and freckles.

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