Chapter 45
While Morgan chattered to Sam about the computer game they’d been playing earlier, I edged closer until I stood right next to Aaron. Our shoulders brushed, and he let loose a ragged sigh.
“You forget.” His voice was low, not a whisper but low enough for Morgan or Sam not to hear. “When everything is going so good, and things seem normal, and then you’re back here like you’d never left…you forget how bad the panic really is.”
I couldn’t say I know, because I couldn’t know just what Aaron was going through. “But you didn’t let that panic get to you. You kept your head. That’s more than I could have done.”
“I think you’d surprise yourself. When it’s your only kid…” His voice faded. The slight clearing of his throat wasn’t loud, but it managed to rattle through me anyway.
“You should sit down,” I urged, touching his elbow, turning my body slightly to block the contact from view. “That adrenaline rush is going to wear off soon.”
His eyes finally flickered to me. “I should be okay until we get home. He’s responding well, and Dr. Tabel’s on duty tonight. He knows I can handle it once Sam’s stable, so we’ll be out of here in an hour. Are you…you don’t mind driving us home, do you?”
“No, of course I don’t mind, but if we’re going to be here for the next hour, then I’m going to insist you sit down.”
This time, instead of giving him the chance to argue with me, I bodily nudged him to the chair. He might have tricked himself into believing he was fine, but I didn’t miss the soft sigh of relief when he finally sat. He still watched Sam intently, his attention not once leaving the bed. And I realized this was why Aaron wouldn’t let himself consider an actual relationship. I mean, I knew before, but now I really understood it. Aaron didn’t have the time or the emotional energy for something that required actual maintenance.
“I’ll tell Morgan we can reschedule the sleepover,” I added. “If that’s all right.”
His gaze slid first to Morgan, then to me. “Do you think it would scare him too much to stay at our house?”
“No, but it might be easier for you and Sam to get some rest if you didn’t have company.”
“Sam’ll feel better if he wakes up in the morning and Morgan’s there.” He paused. “And I’d do better if I wasn’t alone.”
I didn’t how much of that was actually true, or what exactly Aaron wanted from me. He’d done this alone probably more times than he cared to count, and he wasn’t inclined to spoil Sam—when it came to questions of Sam’s health, there was no greater concern than his wellbeing. This was a personal, family matter, and Aaron didn’t seem to think anything of our presence—of my presence. The already unclear boundaries were weakened further by his request, but what could I do?
“Then we’ll stay. But I won’t take it personally if you change your mind once we get back.”
A glimmer of a smile haunted his face. “I know you won’t. But I won’t either. I’d…forgotten how good it is to have somebody here to lean on.”
Every instinct I possessed urged me to put my arm around him and pull him close, let him lean on me literally as well as figuratively. And maybe I would have if we were just friends, and if I hadn’t made a promise, but we weren’t, and I had. Sam wasn’t even paying attention to us, but I couldn’t risk it.
“I’m just glad I could help. In fact, do you need anything? Water? Coffee?”
“Coffee would be good. There’s a machine around the corner to the left.” When I turned to go, he added, “Peter?” I met his eyes, so much darker than normal. “Thank you. For everything.”
In that moment, I realized two things. One, I was completely in love with Aaron Hardison, and it was stupid to try to deny it for another second. I had fallen for him like a ton of bricks and ignored all the warning signs while I rushed headlong into a very ill-advised entanglement. Two, we couldn’t continue like this. I wouldn’t be able to keep my feelings hidden forever, and Aaron had made his expectations very clear. I could still hear the concern in his voice when he stressed that Sam couldn’t find out. It was wrong to continue having sex with him under what amounted to false pretenses—namely my pretenses that this was like all my other flings.
Up until that second, I counted the argument that led to my divorce as the worst night of my life. The fighting had been terrible, both of us pretending that we were masking our insults and keeping our voices down, though Morgan had been just above our heads. Both of us suffering and trying to make the other suffer in turn, lashing out like freshly wounded animals. But that would probably be a cakewalk compared to the conversation I was going to have to have with Aaron. Hey, Aaron, remember when I seduced you into my bed by promising this would be a no-strings-attached situation? Apparently, I lied.