Their words seem to impact Aidan the most. He keeps flexing his arm around me, and instinctively, I get closer each time he does. Like somehow, I could be his shield.
Besides the public, the conversation at the table starts and ends with football, too. I’m glad I know enough to keep up with what’s being said, but I need to brush up on some of the terms being thrown around.
“They’re always like this,” Kenna says. “If you’re wondering.”
I smile into my glass of water. She must have caught the look on my face while I was trying to puzzle out some acronym the wide receiver named Cade used. “Single-minded, you mean?”
“You have no idea.” Leaning toward me, she lowers her voice. “If you tell West this, I’ll deny it with everything in me, but I’m looking forward to it not being football season. Just for, like, a week,” she adds quickly. “Then I’ll probably miss how excited he gets about it.”
I follow her gaze to her boyfriend. He’s massive, but the way he smiles down at her and holds her to his side gives me all the good vibes for her. It’s obvious he adores her. To have that one day would be amazing. Something real. Something separate from the little glass box I’ve been put in.
Next to me, Aidan laughs, his chest moving against my body, and I can’t help but smile. He has the best laugh. He’s always been easy-going and happy. People are drawn to him like bees to honey. The way his teammates hang on every word he says makes it apparent that he’s well-liked. It was the same when he used to come visit us. I was stuck in his orbit, floating, waiting for him to acknowledge me, but it never came. Not in the way I wanted anyway.
“I hope you like football,” Kenna states, bringing me back to our conversation.
“I like watching it,” I offer. I can’t say that I’ve ever played. Not even as kids. While Darrin played in the yard, Mom and I were having tea parties and hosting luncheons where I had to wear frilly, itchy dresses. “I can’t wait to go to the next game.”
My gaze keeps getting drawn to Aidan. To be his girlfriend, even if it is just for show, and watch him from the stands? My stomach flips just thinking about it.
Kenna’s stare moves to Aidan, too. A troubled frown crosses her face, but when she catches me looking, she smiles again. “I’m sure Aidan will love having you there.”
I pat his leg. “I’m sure.”
He moves his arm from around me and then grabs my hand under the table, squeezing it. I have to hold my breath for a second, reminding myself that he’s just really good at this pretending stuff. I’m the one getting drawn in closer and closer. I even tell myself that Aidan doesn’t want a girlfriend right now. Not a real one. He explicitly stated he needs to focus back on football and his team.
In order to keep my mind off him, I ask Kenna about herself. I learn she’s a collegiate diver, and that she’s been diving since she was little. When she asks me what I’m interested in, I nearly fake an answer. How embarrassing to have to tell her that I don’t play sports, and that I don’t really have any hobbies. My hobbies were my mom’s, and the only real thing I enjoyed that she did was reading. Pruning the flowers was hot and annoying. Hosting parties felt more forced than anything else. There was always something so fake about dressing to the nines and sitting around a fancy table.
I can’t even think of one lady who would attend that was a good friend to my mom. A real confidant. The conversation always steered to boasting about their children or husbands or what their prized horses did at shows.
That’s not my thing. I just have to figure out what is, though.
I should make a list of all the things I’ve been wanting to do.
My heart stammers in anticipation, and I hide my excitement by sipping the glass of water in front of me. “To be determined,” I finally answer. If I find something I’m interested in, I can actually participate in conversations like this and not sound so damn dull.
I give Kenna a small smile as an apology for being so boring, but at the same time tingles run up and down my arms. Coming to Warner was the best decision I’ve ever made. I’m going to enjoy the hell out of all this freedom. I can tick things off a list one by one, and no one will be there to tell me I shouldn’t do it.
Aidan’s friend Cade starts telling a story that draws everyone in. Aidan shifts beside me, and I peer down to find him massaging his hand. Without thinking, I reach over, shoo his hand out of the way, and take its place, kneading his palm and fingers.
He stiffens briefly, but then he moves his hand over to give me better access. I start with his palm, massaging it with the pad of my thumb, then I work my way down each of his fingers. It’s his passing arm, so that’s probably why he has some aches and pains.
“You’re good at that,” he nearly grinds out, staring underneath the table at what I’m doing.
“What are girlfriends for?” I peer up, giving him a teasing smile, and he returns it.
Leaning closer, he whispers, “If this is what you do for fake boyfriends, I’m wondering what you do for real ones.”
The innuendo, whether intended or not, makes my thighs ache. The truth is, I don’t know. I’ve had boyfriends, but they were all my mother’s “friends’” sons. The kisses I’ve shared with Aidan are nothing like anything else I’d ever felt, and considering it was supposed to be fake, how sad is that?
Maybe I’m broken. I’ve often wondered that. Why am I the type to go along with whatever my mom says? I date guys I don’t want. I don’t even find them attractive. Yet, when my mom smiles approvingly at me, it makes it all worth it. At least for a little while.
My hold on Aidan stumbles, and he closes his fingers around mine. “I’m sorry. Don’t stop. I like it.”
His admission makes my heart race, heat pouring out of me like I’m on fire and he’s doing nothing but stoking it. Our gazes connect, and the attraction between us tightens. At least on my side it does.
He gives me a grin. “My hand sometimes aches after practice, so this feels amazing.”
Instead of fueling my desire, his words yank me out of the moment. Of course this would feel good to him. It would feel good no matter who was doing it. It’s not just because I’m doing it.