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“Soren doesn’t care,” I argue. “He’s made a show of telling me how much he wants to punish me.” I shiver. “You weren’t with us today.”

“No, but we’ve been in each other’s lives for a very long time,” Aiden replies. His eyes sharpen “I know him better than you do. And I know neither of you is going to apologize to the other. We’ve just gotta move past it.”

“I don’t have a phone, it’s true. But I wasn’t in danger today. I went to town and I ended up helping Tase at the clinic.”

Do I owe Aiden an explanation? My shivering intensifies, the chill spiraling lower. I don’t know anymore. I?—

I stop breathing when he wraps his arms around me and squeezes.

“You’re trembling.” His breath is warm and tickles the hair around my ear.

“And you’re holding me.”

He chuckles and asks, “Is it a problem?”

When he hugs me, there’s none of the crush and electricity of Soren. Maybe because Aiden doesn’t wear his anger as openly.

“No. It’s not a problem.”

His embrace has a different feel to it. There’s comfort and a strange sense of familiarity, and I lean into him. The night has gotten colder, and his body is putting off heat like a furnace.

So he holds me against his chest, leaving no room between us, and I let him.

“I’m trying to be careful,” I admit.Alsotrying not to read too much into the hard lines of his body and how they fit oh so deliciously against mine. “I’ve always done my best to survive. Now it seems a little tougher.”

“Are you not used to people caring about you?” he ventures.

I stop, an outburst on the tip of my tongue. I swallow it down and it tastes like burned toast and old jelly. “My sisters have always cared. Suz did her best. And my coworkers at the old clinic, they were great. I chose to isolate myself. It felt safer.”

“Safer from what?”

He presses but it doesn’t feel like he’s trying to peel away my layers when I’m not ready.

“Take your pick. I’m a walking bag of trauma and bullshit.” I try to laugh but the sound never comes. “I’ve got debt, nightmares, and a boogeyman waiting for me to make a wrong move.”

“Sooner or later, you’re going to realize that isolating yourself isn’t going to get you the life you want. Take it from me. Maybe you don’t trust me, but I’ve lived it, too, Gilli.”

Aiden slowly turns me around, keeping hold of my arms.

His hold is light and his touch barely a graze as he stares down into my eyes. “It’s exhausting to keep running. Eventually, you have to face yourself.”

He brushes a lock of hair away from my neck, staring at the strands. I’m not sure where to look.

“That’s hard to imagine.”

“Really? You have so much imagination.” He trails his hands from my biceps to my elbows before moving higher again and skimming his hands to my shoulders.

I catch my breath.

Aiden’s face is close enough to touch and his gaze hooded. “Everyone has their bullshit. It all boils down to what you’re willing to do about it. Do you want to stay stuck? Or do you want to fight?”

My legs press together. He’s standing there, looking at me expectantly. Waiting for me to—what?

He suddenly grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth, and presses a kiss to my thundering pulse.

“Well?” he pushes. “Are you going to fight, Gilli?”

All I do is fight.