The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,106
of my bed. His eyebrows scrunched together as he witnessed what I wasn’t trying to hide. His mouth depressed into a frown. One of his hands went up to reach behind his head, and I tried to ignore the bunched biceps that seemed to triple in size at the action. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his gaze swept over my face once more. “We need to talk.”
Once upon a time, all I’d wanted was for him to talk to me. Now, that wasn’t the case. “You should really be spending time with Leslie while he’s here.”
Those big biceps flexed. “He agreed I should come up here and talk to you.”
I narrowed my eyes, ignoring the tightness in them. “You told him we got into a fight?”
“No. He could tell something was off without me saying anything.” Those massive hands dropped to his sides. “I wanted to talk to you last night.”
But I’d ignored his knock. I made a vague noise. What was the point in lying when I’m pretty sure he was well aware of the fact I’d been awake then?
Aiden fisted his hands for a moment before bringing them back to cross his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday.”
I wasn’t remotely impressed by his directness and I was sure my face said that.
In true Aiden fashion, he didn’t let my expression deter him from what he’d come to say. “I don’t like things hanging over my head, and if you and I are going to have a problem, we’re going to talk about it. I meant what I told you in your apartment. I do like you as much as I like anyone. I wouldn’t have come to you for all of this if I didn’t. You always treated me as more than just the person who paid your check and I see that now. I’ve seen it for a while, Van. I’m not very good at this crap.” Did he look uncomfortable or was I imagining it? I wondered. “I’m selfish and self-centered. I know that. You know that. I bail on people all the time.” He had a point there. He did. I’d witnessed it firsthand. “I get it, you’re not that kind of person. You don’t go back on your word. I… I didn’t think you’d care if I didn’t go,” he said carefully.
I opened my mouth to tell him that no one liked being bailed on, but he trudged on before I could.
“But I understand, Van. Just because people don’t complain to my face when I do it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss them off, all right? I didn’t mean to be an asshole downstairs. I only wanted to make sure you made it back fine and you weren’t going to kill me in my sleep for flaking out on you. Then I got mad.”
I had thought about killing him, but it surprised me just a little bit that he assumed I would think that.
Before I could linger on that thought too long, Aiden leveled that dark gaze on me. “If you had done that to me…” He looked a little uncomfortable at whatever he was thinking and let out a shaky exhale. “I wouldn’t have handled it as well as you did.”
That was a freaking fact.
“I wasn’t nagging,” I stated. Then thought about it and, in my head, amended the statement to add ‘mostly’ to it.
He tilted his head to the side like he wanted to argue otherwise. “You were nagging, but you had a right to. I have a lot going on right now.”
My first thought was: The end has come. He’s opening up to me.
My second thought was: It’s so obvious he’s stressed as hell.
I hadn’t caught onto his body language, or the tightness he carried both in his shoulders and his voice as he spoke, but now up close, it was obvious. He’d been through a lot in just the first month of the regular season. He’d already sprained his ankle. Zac had gotten kicked off the team. On top of that, he was worried about his visa and his future with not just the Three Hundreds but in the NFO, period. His injury would be a factor in his career for the rest of his life. Any time he made a mistake, people would wonder if he hadn’t come back as strongly as he’d been before, even if it had nothing to do with his Achilles tendon.