Page 44 of Done with You

And holy fucking shit, did Oona ever make him feel alive.

The way he fit inside her so perfectly—like her cunt was made for him. The noises she made, the way she moaned when he pulled her hair, pushed her ass in the air and welcomed his thumb ... He could tell she wasn’t an anal sex virgin. And based on her personality and the way she gasped and crooned from any kind of pain, told him she probably liked to be spanked. Maybe even choked.

As he stalked down the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, he reflected on everything that had transpired between them in the house.

What she’d said to him. Calling him out the way she did.

She was right.

Completely and utterly right. And being called self-absorbed stung like a basketball to the face.

The reason he got in to see Astrid Kramer had to be because Oona had made a phone call. Pulled some strings or called in a favor. And yet, the idea of thanking her sat jagged and awkward in his craw. Like a popcorn kernel stuck between your teeth.

He had no idea what was in his file. How much the HR person at the station sent to his therapist ahead of time. Did Oona know about Dallas? Did she know about his and Jordan’s dad and mom?

Did Rayma know?

When Jordan brought up Dallas last night, the hot pokers of dread began to burn in his gut. He thought about Dallas all the time, but hadn’t spoken about him in years.

And the fact that Jordan still saw him, still heard him, too, it was both comforting to know that Aiden wasn’t alone seeing a ghost, but it also made him feel like total shit that his brother was still dealing with the consequences of their actions over a decade later, too.

Aiden was the older brother, it was his job to protect Jordan. It was his job to keep Jordan safe.

And he’d failed.

He’d failed his brother, he’d failed his family and he failed Dallas.

The small shopping complex where they grabbed the pizza last night was only a short fifteen-minute walk and it boasted a bunch of different retailers. A drug store, a grocery store, an optometrist and even a Starbucks.

His brain hurt from lack of caffeine, so he headed into the Starbucks and ordered himself a venti black with two shots of espresso. He liked his coffee like he liked himself—tall and bitter.

Not that he liked himself bitter, he just was, so he accepted it.

A seat became available at the window bar and he took it, bringing up his phone and scrolling through the news while his brain righted itself on its axis now that the coffee beans were doing their job.

His belly grumbled after about twenty minutes, so he ordered a sandwich using the Starbucks app on his phone, so that he didn’t lose his seat.

Jordan mentioned that he needed to work today, but Aiden hadn’t really thought about what that would mean. What it meant, though, was that Aiden was trapped at Jordan’s house with Oona.

A woman he wanted.

A woman who grated on every one of his last nerves and pushed him to push all her buttons.

Fuck, this was all so fucked up.

He closed his eyes, but that only made him picture her naked, bent over the arm of the couch, ass in the air, the hummingbird tattoo on her shoulder blade mocking him.

He opened his eyes, blinking them several times to dislodge the images of her from his brain. To scrape his mind clean of the vexing, irritating, split-personality Oona.

Fucking her this morning had been a huge mistake, but when she called him self-absorbed, when she taunted him with her head shakes and laughs, his brain became one-track. The way she looked at him like he was an idiot for only thinking of himself burned sharp, like a lance to the sternum.

But what hurt more than anything, was that she was right.

He was behaving and thinking selfishly. He thought only of himself and his own needs. His own career, his own problems.

The guilt weighed him down until he had a hard time putting weight on his feet to put his trash in the bin. He was a little wobbly, but tried not to let it show.

He’d been gone from the house for nearly two hours, and it still wasn’t even lunchtime yet. What the hell was he going to do?

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