Page 42 of Remember Me

Alyssa

“No, Cole, we don't throw food at our sisters,” I said, snatching a chicken nugget from the little boy's hand before it became an airborne missile.

Cole looked up at me, his green eyes, identical to his father's, widening with mock innocence. How did I know it was fake? I lived with Aiden and it was the same look he gave me every single day when he was trying to pretend he hadn’t just pissed someone off. “But Aunt Lyssa, they took my spot.”

I glanced over to where the twins had indeed commandeered the prime viewing seats directly against the glass, leaving messy handprints in Cole’s prime viewing spot. “That doesn't mean we throw food,” I explained, feeling oddly parental for someone who had exactly zero children of her own. “How about we ask them nicely to move over a little bit so you can join them?”

“Or,” Cole suggested, his face brightening with an alternative plan. I rolled my eyes because it was another Aiden mannerism. Bargaining. Always bargaining to get his way. Whether it be for sex or his choice of vanities, we were always in a constant battle for dominance… Just the way I liked it. “I could scream really loud until they move?”

I bit back a laugh. “Let's try the asking first.”

Wrangling Reign's children was like trying to herd caffeinated squirrels—entertaining, occasionally rewarding, but mostly exhausting. The Crossbills were up by twenty, and had been since the end of the third quarter. The collective energy in the suite had reached fever pitch. So much so that Tanner and Aster’s families had joined us in our box to celebrate.

It was close to one am and the kids were still up, feeding off the energy and bouncing couch to floor to window, leaving havoc in their wake.

None of us cared. We were all just so happy they were excited for their daddy.

“I don't know how you do this,” I said to Chloe, who was simultaneously wiping chocolate from Jace's face and preventing Kyle from climbing onto the back of an expensive leather chair.

Chloe snorted. “Bold of you to assume I'm 'doing' anything other than basic damage control. Trust me, you're as qualified as I am.”

Cole scampered off to join his brother, my negotiation attempts forgotten in the excitement of the latest play. Across the suite, Aiden was deep in conversation with Adam, both of them gesturing animatedly at the field below. My boyfriend’s Armani suit jacket had been discarded hours ago and I didn’t want to tell him, it had been touched by some very sticky hands. Not that he cared. He had at least four more of those back in his closet at home.

I took him in, admiring how good he looked with his sleeves rolled up. Aiden was always model worthy, but ever since we started working on the business, he’d bulked up a little. He might not admit to liking getting his hands dirty on the sites, but it sure had done wonders for his body… and our sex life. Not that that needed spicing up.

“He looks good in a suit,” Reign commented as she sat beside me with a knowing smirk. Yes, she and our other roommate had predicted that the eventual hate Aiden and I shared would turn into something more, but she didn’t need to keep gloating about it 7 years on.

“He looks better out of it,” I replied without thinking. It was only when Kyle and Cole ran passed that I realized how inappropriate I was being. “Sorry. Bathroom smex brain.”

Reign burst out laughing. “God, you two haven't changed a bit. I swear, the rest of us have grown up, had kids, developed back problems, and you and Aiden are still sneaking off to bathrooms at public events.”

“Not true. Sometimes it's closets.”

She laughed again, shaking her head. “So when are you going to put him out of his misery and marry him? It's been what six years now?”

“Seven,” I corrected, smiling as I took in the best thing that ever happened to me. Aiden must have felt my gaze because he looked up, his expression softening immediately. Something warm unfurled in my chest, that same feeling that had been there since the beginning. The same feeling I ignored and chose violence instead. Violence being screwing up his pool filters with dish soap.

“Wow. He must love you. Guys like Aiden don’t usually stick around for that long.”

Guys like Aiden… Of course she’d use a phrase like that. She doesn’t know him. Not really. No one does. Maybe Devin, Adam and Matty do. They seemed to be the three that were able to see through his actions. But that was exactly what they were. Actions. When he doesn’t want you getting close, he throws barbs and jabs your way. A sad existence to some, but to me, I knew what he was doing. Weeding out the weak. Only the brave would keep pushing with him.

“I know,” I sighed. “And I will marry him,” I said simply. “One day.”

“One day?” Reign raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “You've been saying that for years. What are you waiting for?”

I shrugged, leaning against the back of the couch. “I don't know. The right moment? Besides, he told me he'd wait until he's eighty to marry me if that’s what I wanted. Kind of want to test out how serious he was.”

“Pretty sure he didn't mean that literally,” Reign said dryly. “That man has been ready to put a ring on your finger since about fifteen minutes after you met.”

Fifteen minutes after we met. Is it normal to remember your entire encounter with someone the first time you meet them? I didn’t have it with anyone else except him. Fifteen minutes after we met we were sitting on my rickety old porch, the one he’s now restored, and he asked me out on a date. I said yes and had no idea I was accepting my Endgame.

“I know.” And I did know. Aiden had first proposed two years into our relationship, then again every few months with increasing creativity. The last time had involved skywriting over my latest restoration project, which had been both ridiculous and endearing—exactly like the man himself. Not that he’d let it on to most people.

“So?” Reign pressed, glancing over to make sure the twins weren't starting another sisterly wrestling match.

“So,” I echoed, “I just want to make sure we're doing it for the right reasons.”

Reign's expression softened. “And what would those be?”

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