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His mouth curves in a crooked smile. “Which do you want?”

“Aden,” I murmur his name and kiss him, needing to stand on my tiptoes. His hands wrap around mine. The gentle side of him. The side who doesn’t know all of what Dean went through. The side that doesn’t remember.

I smile back at him, although my heart pounds. “Is it done?”

The smile dims a little as I wait for his response, but it doesn’t fade completely. “Is what done?” he asks. Aden doesn’t always know. He doesn’t want to and he doesn’t need to. I love them both. I need them both. Even if all of me is irreparably broken and half of him is.

“The list I gave you. The one for him. For Dean?”

“All the names are gone. Or did he add more?”

I hesitate. I always choose my words carefully with all the patients I work with, but I’m the most careful with him. He means too much to me.

I shake my head no. “If they’re all crossed off, there’s no reason to worry.”

“Are you worried, baby?” he asks me with a sad smile.

“The news makes me worry,” I admit to him and he kisses me softly before whispering at my lips, “There’s no reason to worry. He’s been careful. I know he has.”

His eyes go soft. Part of that might be because of the light, but I know it’s also because of how he feels.

He takes a breath. “You stay with me, don’t you? When I’m him.” Aden doesn’t understand everything. But he knows how much I love Dean. I don’t compare the two of them. I love them both more than anything. I need them both too.

“Always,” I promise, looking him in the eye. The eyes really are the windows to the soul. That doesn’t mean it’s always easy to accept what you see when you look. I’ve seen lots of broken souls, hurting from years of abuse and losing hope that they’ll ever feel normal again. “I always stay with you, both sides of you. You know I love all of you.”

He squeezes my hand, a smile returning to his face. This one’s brighter. “Always,” he whispers.

“I love you both always.” I take his other hand in mine and let out a sigh. “But I’d love to confide in Dean now if that’s alright.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “Do you need to compartmentalize, Doctor?” He smirks a handsome look, but I know he wishes I didn’t need Dean. I know he gets jealous. A part of me loves that. I’m selfish though. In more than one way.

He lets his eyes flutter closed for a few beats, then opens them.

“Dean?”

He doesn’t smile back. “Haley,” he says my name like an apology. I’m quick to kiss him. To hold him the way Aden holds me.

“You okay?” he asks me. It’s the first thing he asked when he saw me. Back when I found him years ago. As if he’d been waiting years to ask me that question.

“It’s been hard on me,” I admit, feeling the tension in my shoulders and back. It tends to sneak up on me. “All of this. You’re doing a better job than I am.”

“No, I’m not.” He kisses my forehead, his lips still slightly cool from the breeze outside. He smells like fresh air and cologne with a very faint undertone of oil from the shop. I also get a whiff of lemon from the soap he likes to scrub his hands with the best. “You’re doing perfectly, my angel.”

His mouth meets mine. I keep trying to decide which kisses I like best. Some days, all I want is something rough and biting so I can have enough sensation to forget. I want him to hurt me just a little to prove that I can handle pain—even enjoy it, if it’s at the right level. Other days, all I want is soft, tender kisses.

He explores my mouth, his hands moving to cup my cheeks, thumbs running gently over my cheekbones. It feels so good to be touched like this. To be treasured above everybody else in the world. A tiny moan escapes me, and he hums back as if he could taste it, and he liked it. His teeth graze my bottom lip, not enough to hurt, and the spark of pleasure shoots down to my core.

The way I feel when I’m with him is like nothing else in the world. I could forget all my plans. Leave those in the past, too. That’s what’s dangerous about him. He makes me want to lock the door behind us and never come out again. I could just let him have his way with me forever.

I get lost in that fantasy for a few minutes. His touch does that to me. It makes me feel like the world could be this gentle, and my life could be this gentle, if I’d only let him take me away.

I kiss him until I have to pull back for breath. His eyes are dark with his blown pupils, and when I run my fingers through his hair he shivers in a way that’s unique to him.

“It’s over now,” he reassures me. “It’ll blow over. They’ll never find out it’s us.”

“Not yet…” I murmur, feeling guilty. I’m the one who made the list. The one who planned it all.

“We aren’t done?” he asks softly, his brow arched.