“I could whip you up a nice clown. All you’d have to do it ask,” I joked, sliding the design toward me.

Yeah, that big, beautiful grin crawled up with full force over his mouth, cracking my soul open in half. “The five of us are going out for dinner. Take a break and come.”

I didn’t need to eye the sketch to know that I’d worked on it almost as long as I could. When I drew, I’d learned the hard way that I needed to pay attention to my limit, otherwise things started to go downhill. And I’d probably gotten there about fifteen minutes ago when my fingers began cramping.

“All right.” I reached across the desk to grab the case where I usually put my box of pencils. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed.”

Aiden nodded.

Fully aware that Aiden wasn’t dressed up and he wouldn’t go anywhere that would require him to put on anything dressier than jeans, I settled for a pair of skintight jeans that I’d resorted to sticking in the drier on high heat so they would still fit me, a V-neck red elbow-length shirt, and black heels I hadn’t worn since the last time I’d gone out, months and months ago.

Not surprisingly, all of the guys were downstairs waiting. I knew they were planning on leaving the next day. I had to take one stair at a time, and I winced every single step, muscles I didn’t even know I had responded to the achiness from my run yesterday. I’d briefly thought I was coming down with something but shoved the possibility aside.

It was Zac who spotted me first, a big, dumb smile coming over his face.

“Don’t say anything,” I muttered to him before he could make a crack.

That only made him laugh.

I should have thought about putting on tennis shoes instead.

“I’d give you a piggyback ride, but I can barely walk myself,” he apologized as I groaned at the bottom of the staircase.

Jokingly, I smiled at Aiden, who was standing next to Zac, and batted my eyelashes.

The Wall of Winnipeg did what The Wall of Winnipeg would do and simply shook his head. “You can’t baby it. You’ll only feel worse tomorrow.”

This son of a bitch. I snickered, and then I snorted, watching as his features took on an uncertain expression before I lost it, slapping a hand on Zac’s shoulder so I’d have something to lean on.

Did I know he was telling the truth? Of course I did. I’d stretched earlier and cried. No shame in my game.

But… Wasn’t he supposed to be my cream-colored knight? My knight in shining armor who would carry me around to prevent me from being in pain?

Of course not. Aiden was going to tell me to do whatever the best thing for me was, even if it hurt like hell.

And I seriously couldn’t love him any more. Not a single bit more. And I couldn’t tell him.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked.

I had to take my glasses off to palm one eyeball at a time, wiping my tears away, not caring that the little makeup I’d put on earlier in the day was more than likely coming off.

“Man, you’re supposed to take care of your woman.” That was Drew who said it. “Help her out.”

That only made me laugh even more.

“Oh, Aiden.” I looked up at the man in question and grinned. “I’m fine. I can walk. I promise. You’re right.”

“I know I am.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

I woke up with my hand in Aiden’s pants.

In his boxer briefs to be specific.

The back of my hand was pressed against a warm butt cheek. I had one knee against his hamstring. His back was about three inches from my mouth. My other hand was numb under my face.

But it was the hand I had in his underwear that alarmed me the most.

The sheets and comforter thrown over us didn’t let me see much, but what did you really need to see when you knew exactly what you were touching? Nothing.

Slowly, I tried pulling my hand out. I got most of my thumb out and was in the process of getting the rest of my fingers to safety too when Aiden tipped his head over his shoulder and gave me a sleepy look.

“Are you done groping me?” he asked, his voice sand-scratched.

With a sound I didn’t necessarily want to consider a hiss, I pulled my hand out of its warm cocoon of male flesh and underwear and held it to my chest.

“I wasn’t groping you,” I whispered. “I was just… making sure none of the guys sneaked in and tried to get you.”

His sleepy gaze widened. “That’s why you grabbed it all night?”

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did,” the man who never lied claimed.

And that had me shutting my mouth. “Really?”

He nodded, rolling onto his back and stretching those brawny arms over his head, a siren’s song for my eyes.

“In that case, I’m sorry.” I eyed at the tuft of black hair in his underarm, which for some reason I found so attractive. “Not.”

Aiden drew his arms back down, that handsome bearded face clearly amused.

That old, familiar, painful knot filled my throat as I took in those features I enjoyed looking at so much—that scar along his hairline that defined him and that gold chain peeking out from beneath his T-shirt and what it meant.

I really did love him, and he was leaving for two months. I wasn’t sure if it was everything that had happened to me with my family in the past, or if I was secretly just a possessive person with the right—or in this case wrong—person, but I didn’t want him to leave. And there was no way I could ask him to stay.