Page 24 of Crossed Up

Crew’s toothy grin is adorable as he grabs my hand, dragging me back to the bed. “I sneakeded in and turned it off so you could sleep in!

I huff and ruffle his wavy hair. “You snuck in, Crew-bug. And I’ll let it slide this one time because you were doing something so sweet, but remember, we need to respect people’s private spaces, alright?

He nods emphatically. “Right. Sorry, Lyly.”

“Raptor, why don’t we let Miss Lyla eat her breakfast and get ready for the day while you go get your shoes on.”

Aidan glances at me with a shy quirk of his lips as his son sprints out of the room. “If you don’t have any plans, Crew and I would like nothing more than for you to join us on a birthday trip to the aquarium.”

Spending the day with Aidan and Crew would make for the best birthday I’ve ever had, so I readily agree. “Give me thirty?”

“‘Course. Take as long as you need.” Without a word, he stalks toward me and drops a gentle kiss on my cheek before ambling back out. Aidan moves to shut the door, but just before it clicks, he glances back at me under enviously thick lashes with a small but genuine smile. “Oh, and happy birthday, angel.”

“Did you see how big that shark was, Lyly? It was bigger than our car!” Crew’s enthusiasm makes me giggle, and I see Aidan glance at me with affection from where he sits in the driver’s seat.

He’s been glancing at me with these soft looks all day, and my resolve against dating is crumbling faster than a stale petit four.

“I did see it, Crew-bug! Were the sharks your favorite part?”

“Yes! The sharks and the stingrays. Did you see the baby stingray’s legs? I don’t really know why they have legs when they live in the water. And they’re kinda funny lookin’.”

I choke out a laugh as the wild six-year-old continues to recount every second of the last three hours from his booster seat, regaling his dad and me with exaggerated tales of his imagined underwater adventures.

Turning my focus to Aidan, I lower my voice so only he can hear me. “Thanks for inviting me today, Aidan. It means a lot that you wanted to include me in your last free day with Crew before the season starts.”

He scoffs, keeping his eyes trained on the highway. “Are you kidding right now? Even if I hated being around you for some unthinkable reason, it would be a cold day in Arizona before Crew let me leave you out of a birthday activity. Or any activity for that matter. Like it or not, angel, you’re stuck with us.”

My cheeks flush crimson, but I’m saved from answering when we turn down our quiet street to see cars taking up nearly every available inch of curb space. Turning wide eyes to the man next to me, I see him grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Ever since meeting Sebastian, I haven’t done well with surprises, so I’m worried Aidan has something planned and hasn’t told me.

“Why are there so many cars lining the street?”

Aidan’s grin turns mischievous, and he shrugs. “Oh, we have a little party for Crew’s birthday every year. It must have slipped my mind with how busy we’ve been the last few weeks.”

Something about his words ring false, but I can’t imagine him doing something malicious, so rather than ask more questions, I do what I can to brace myself for whatever we’re about to walk into.

It’s midday, so at least everything is brightly lit and pleasantly warm for only being mid-March. Summer in the South can be brutal, so I like to enjoy the 75-and-sunny spring days while I can.

It takes less than five minutes for us to unload Crew and his new stuffed shark that’s almost as big as he is, and instead of leading us through the garage as usual, Aidan hovers his palm just above my lower back and guides me around to the front door.

I raise an eyebrow at him, but he’s got that damn grin back on his face that makes me more anxious than I’m willing to admit.

“SURPRISE!”

My throat clamps down in abject horror when I see no less than thirty people milling around the living space, my oxygen momentarily being held hostage by my traitorous lungs. Crew knocks into me, squealing on his way to Wren’s open arms. It’s enough to open my lungs back up, and I quietly gasp for air.

Balloons and streamers are everywhere, along with an overly large banner that reads, ‘Happy Birthday Crew & Lyla!’ I try to use a calming technique my therapist taught me: naming five things I can see, four I can hear, three I can feel, two I can smell, and one I can taste, but the sheer amount of men in this room, along with all the eyes on me, is enough to allow the panic attack to fully take hold.

I choke out a strangled ‘excuse me’ and rush from the room, beelining for the furthest guest bath on this floor. It’s tucked into a far corner of the house and doesn’t have any windows, so the second I close the door behind me, dark silence engulfs me, settling the worst of my panic and hopefully stopping the bile that coats the back of my throat from coming up.

Turning the tap as cold as it will go and holding my hands under it usually helps when I’m having a panic attack. But this one was too bad, too unexpected, so I quickly splash the freezing water up onto my face and neck in an attempt to shock my body into remission.

I’ve got one cold hand cupped over the back of my neck and one laid flat over my sternum when the door swings open, sending renewed adrenaline skittering through my body as the ringing in my ears intensifies.

I don’t even realize I’ve closed my eyes and braced myself against the wall with my hands up until strong arms circle my upper body and squeeze. My hands are trapped against a masculine abdomen, and then he tucks my head into his chest, and all I can smell is Aidan. I’ve been picking up on it more the last week, but he smells like a summer day at the beach. Salty ocean air and just a little bit of citrus.

It takes a few seconds, but the panic ebbs enough that my hearing comes back online just in time to catch his murmured words. “Shh, angel, you’re safe now. I’ve got you. I’m right here, and I’m not letting you go.”

Aidan’s warm, steady hand is a comforting weight on my head. Before I can even consciously process the action, my arms are encircling his trim waist, and I’ve buried my nose even further into his chest.

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