The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,183

my lips to keep from grinning like a total lovesick idiot, which was exactly what I was.

In that moment, I don’t think I had ever loved anything half as much as I loved Aiden.

Sliding my hands from his neck over to his shoulders and finally down to those biceps I knew were perfectly sculpted from gawking at them so often, I patted him. Then I grabbed him and tried to shake him.

And then I started grinning all over again. So what if I looked like an airhead who was in love with a man she had married as part of a business relationship? I was, and I’d never been totally good at being anything other than me.

Of all the people I would ever want in my corner for moral support, here was the most unexpected one… and the biggest one. My friend. The keeper of my secrets. My moral support. My paperwork.

Plus, with reflexes like his, if anyone threw something at me, he could deflect it. Not that that would happen since hardly anyone even noticed I was there.

Thinking about having him in my corner didn’t help anything. It just made me want to cry, and now wasn’t the time. Hell, the next decade wasn’t the right time. I had to remember that even as my heart gave a little beat at the acknowledgment Aiden had shown up.

I slid my hands down his biceps to his elbows and finally to his wrists. “Are you going to stay for a little while?” I asked, trying not to build up too much hope. Maybe he had some kind of… something he’d come for besides me.

Turning his wrists, he slid his hands down until we were palm to palm. “I just flew four hours to get here. Who else would I be here for?”

I loved this man.

That was what I thought. What I said though was a completely different thing. “Okay, smart-ass. Let me grab a chair for you then,” I said, taking a step away before blinking at him. He really was standing there in the middle of a convention in his hoodie with a backpack on. He was here. Here.

With a squeak I hadn’t made since I was probably twelve, I threw my arms around Aiden’s arm and hugged him once more for a split second.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” I said, loosening my hold and taking a step back to find him looking down at me with the strangest expression on his face.

“I’ll get one,” he muttered, tipping his head toward mine. A small smile creased the corners of that ultra-serious mouth. He dropped his chin. “Has anybody thrown anything at you?”

I crossed my eyes. “Not yet.”

Aiden blew out a breath and gave me that look that got on my nerves. “Told you.” He reached forward and tapped my elbow with his fingertips. “I’ll be right back.”

I wasn’t sure where he planned on getting a chair from, but if anyone got what he wanted, it was Aiden. He’d figure it out. With that thought, I crawled back under the table and took my seat again, suddenly feeling way more optimistic—and about eight hundred times happier—than I had minutes ago.

I’d barely plopped down and shuffled my seat forward when I realized that both of the authors on either side of me were staring. Literally staring. One of them even had her mouth open.

“Please tell me that’s not your brother,” the one whose mouth was actually closed, stammered out, her gaze zoomed in on the direction Aiden had disappeared to.

“That’s not my brother,” I said a little more smugly than what was necessary, my thumb rubbing over the top of my ring.

“Is that a model?” The one who was gaping practically panted. “Because he’s never hugged me like that before.” She hooked her thumb at the man sitting next to her, who was frowning while also facing where Aiden had gone.

I bit my cheek and tried to hold back my smile even as my soul rejoiced with Aiden! He’s here! “No.”

Both women just looked at me a blankly for so long I reached up to fiddle with the leg of my glasses, feeling a little awkward.

The male model finally leaned around the author he was sitting with. “That’s Aiden Graves, isn’t it?”

And, of course, someone was going to immediately recognize him. I’d seen an ad of him at the airport the night before.

“Who’s that?” the author on my left asked.

“The Wall of Winnipeg. The best defensive player in the NFO,” the guy