The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,146

mine. I tucked my elbows in to give him more room just as he handed over a souvenir cup filled with what I had a feeling was going to be Dr. Pepper. He had a bottle of water in his other hand.

I leaned over and patted the top of his hand. “Thank you, big guy.”

He made sure to meet my eyes before leaning into me in return; his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “You don’t have to thank me all the time.”

“Shut up.” I used his line on him, earning me a head shake and a flash of a tiny grin in return from the man whose face was about four inches away from mine. Just as he started to pull away, I tugged on his hoodie sleeve so he could come closer.

He did. Aiden was so close the side of his bristly jaw brushed the tip of my nose. I didn’t jerk back, but I stayed in place, letting that wonderful clean scent coming off his skin fill my nostrils. “Those guys sitting behind us recognized you,” I whispered.

Aiden shifted his face just enough so that his mouth brushed my earlobe. “Did they say anything to you?” That gritty, deep voice seemed to go straight to the center of my chest.

It took everything in me not to shiver as his breath hit the sensitive spot on my neck. “They asked if you were you and I said yes.” I had to swallow as another soft puff of breath hit my neck. “And they know we’re… you know… together.”

He didn’t react.

“I didn’t know what to say. Sorry,” I whispered.

That had him pulling back just enough to give me a dry look. “Vanessa—”

I beat him to it. “Shut up.”

“I was going to tell you to stop saying sorry, but that works too.”

Did he just smile at me? Did he just smile smugly at me? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure, but I was going to take it as a yes. Yes, he had just smiled at me playfully.

And that had me blinking once. My heart beating twice. “In that case…”

“Shut up,” he finished for me.

I burst out laughing as I reached into my purse and pulled out a red apple I had hidden under my scarf to get it through security, and handed it over. “What a good boy. If you behave, I might have a smashed up Vega bar in my pocket for you.”

I didn’t know what it said about me that I carried snacks around for him, but whatever. He was like my puppy I had to make sure ate enough. You know, a massive puppy that made my insides feel discombobulated from time to time. Yeah, discombobulated. It was that bad.

He took the apple from me and reclined into his seat just as the teams’ centers approached the middle of the court for tip-off. How the hell had I missed the players getting on the court? I took off my jacket, rolled back my shoulders, and prepared to cheer on my brother.

“Which one is he?”

I pointed at the six-foot-three, pale-skinned idiot who I used to put on dresses for fun when we were younger. “Number thirty.”

“He’s taller than I thought he’d be,” Aiden noted absently.

“I think his dad was tall.”

Aiden glanced at me briefly. “You don’t have the same one?”

“No. At least, I’m pretty sure we don’t. I’ve never met mine as far as I know.” And by that I meant, I’d never had any man pick me up and tell me I was his as a kid. My little brother’s dad hadn’t paid much attention to me when he’d been around. When I saw Aiden out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his face was tight. His jaw jutting. “What is it?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’ve never met your father?”

My neck went a little hot and for some reason I got embarrassed. “No.”

“Do you look like your mom?”

I reached up to mess with the leg of my glasses. “No.” My mom was a blonde, somewhat pale and she was only five-five. I was more peach-skinned, my hair a natural brown with a little red, and taller than the rest of the women in my family. “My friend Diana’s mom used to tell me she thought my dad must have been Hispanic or maybe Mediterranean or something, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Have you always been tall?”

If I really strained and stood up straight, I was almost, almost five eight. “My sisters used