Page 10 of Unmasking Love (D.C. Renegades #1)

Aiden

I'm in this now

Harper's big eyes blink back at me and I know I’ve gone too far. But it’s the only thing I could think of. That, and how her insults were just as fucking charming as she is. If I were her I definitely wouldn’t have wished a crumb filled car on him.

Well, I would have, but I also would have punched him in his stupid face.

And called him fucking scum.

A dick rash.

A dingleberry.

Maybe I’m no more ruthless than Harper.

By the time I figured out what was going on all I could think about was removing her from the situation. I was surprised by her reaction and kept waiting for her to explode. I still am, if I’m being honest. But that moment at the door when I gave her another annoying hex to cast on them?

Terrifyingly magical.

Her eyes had locked on mine and I felt my heart trip over its own feet. My breath caught. But instead of the cold, bitter grip of panic, I felt warmth spread through my veins. It almost tickled and I suppressed the urge to shiver.

Even now, in the car with her, I’m all too aware of her presence. I’m as attuned to her movements as I am to the puck on the ice.

I p ress the ignition and as I pull out of the driveway her phone connects to the bluetooth. The screen says Wes, who I think is her friend. The guy who helped give us the tour last week.

“Hey Wes, you’re on speaker,” she answers.

“With the hot hockey player?” Wes asks.

I grin and turn to face her a bit at the stop sign. I’m in no position to be proud of the fact that she and Wes refer to me as the hot hockey player but I puff my chest a bit. She pulls her plush pink lip under her top teeth and I watch her face bloom in a blush.

“So, that’s a yes. Hi Aiden.” Wes coos when she doesn’t answer.

“Hello,” I reply.

“That’s Wes, my friend, and he’s got a sixth sense apparently.”

“I knew I needed to call you, you break up?” He asks like this happens all the time.

“That’s uncanny,” I mutter as I make a turn. I’m not sure where we’re going, I’m just trying my best to retrace the route we took here.

“I did break up, I was showing Aiden the perfect home for him when we walked in on Crispin getting head from Raquel.”

“Well, that’s a new one.”

“Yep,” She pops the P. She sounds so unaffected. Unphased by seeing her boyfriend cheat on her.

“So, are you bringing Aiden this time?”

“Bringing me where?” I ask.

“Well, Harp has a little tradition every time this happens,” Wes pauses for effect, “she gets plastered.”

“It’s a lot more boring than it sounds, I can drop you off and then meet Wes.”

“Can I come?” I ask. It’s out before I can catch it. But I feel invested in this. In her.

“Sure,” she whispers.

“ Fab, see you two in a few! Ha! I rhymed.” Wes laughs to himself before the call ends.

“So, where to?” I ask as Harper pulls out her phone.

“Well, usually it’s to a place called Senior Guppies. The margaritas border on toxic and they keep the chips coming. Seriously, you don’t have to though. If you turn right up here we can get back to your place and then I’ll turn around and meet Wes.”

I don’t know where I’m going but instead of pulling to the right, I get into the left turn lane.

“Aiden, what are you doing?”

“Harper, I’m not going to leave you alone right now. So you can either tell me where to go or pop the address into the map.”

“O-kay.” She says quietly and she navigates to the directions.

We drive quietly and I try not to be obvious about looking her way. Every time I do she is leaning against the window with her chin resting on her hand that’s balled into a fist. She doesn’t look sad, or angry, she looks resigned.

I don’t have a ton of experience with friendships and even less with romantic relationships.

As a kid, my life revolved around learning the game.

As a teen it was all about becoming the best goalie I could be.

Then getting as strong as I could. And now for the past seven years, my life has been about being the guy the team can rely on in a pinch.

It hits me as I follow the directions on Harper’s navigation that I see myself as separate from the team.

Not a team member who gets called up. I’m the lone wolf, the last line in the sand when the team is already down in the count.

Not a man sitting with his team, among his friends, waiting patiently for his chance to contribute.

And now, this loner is driving a girl to meet a friend for post breakup drinks because I want to be at her side. I want to be with her as she works through this

Yes , anyone would have stepped up and helped her get out of there.

Anyone would have driven her back to her office so she didn’t drive under duress.

But, would they feel this intense pull I’m feeling towards her?

Would they feel compelled to keep her close?

To protect her?

These questions swarm in my chest along with feelings I’m not sure how to name. Sensations of longing maybe, or is it possession? It could be fascination, or is this anticipation? Both? None?

Never before has my heart beat so wildly without a clear reason.

Each glance towards Harper causes everything inside me to churn. I make the final turn towards the destination while my stomach can’t decide if it’s going to jump up my throat or bottom out through my ass.

Maybe a drink will help.

We walk into the restaurant and I immediately understand what Harper meant by “borderline toxic”.

Paint is chipping, part of the ceiling is sagging down, and one of the lights in the back is flickering.

I can’t tell if the mariachi music playing over the sound system is comforting or taunting.

The walls on this restaurant look lethal, I can’t imagine the food.

I think I’ll stay sober because nothing about this looks good.

“?Hola Carlos!” Harper sings out. “Muchas margaritas por favor.”

“?Si, si, senora!” Carlos replies and he goes to busy himself with her order.

“How did you find this place?” I ask, trying to hide my judgment but not really succeeding.

“I used to live right across the street.” I look out of the dirty window at an equally decrepit looking building.

It is a far cry from where I’d expect the polished woman across from me to live.

“Back before I found this job. I worked at a country club. Most of my money came from tips and so on particularly good days I’d take a break from the shift meal or ramen at home a nd treat myself to a plate of chicken fajitas.

I didn’t have the margaritas until I was fired from that job and I came in here crying. Carlos felt bad for me.”

She shrugs but I wait for the answer to the many unanswered questions. I want to know why she was fired. I want to know why she was working at a country club. I want to know which country club so I can make sure I never join it.

Not that I’m the type.

Carlos arrives with a pitcher and two glasses. I shake my head but he sets it down in front of me anyways. Harper starts to pour for herself when the door swings open and the late afternoon sunshine floods the room.

“Never fear, Wes is here!” Her friend calls as he crosses to our table. “Hi Aiden, good to see you again.” He turns to Harper. “So wait, you caught Crispin getting head from his secretary?”

“Personal assistant.” Harper corrects with a finger wag.

“I’ll say,” Wes concedes as he pulls up a chair to our tiny, and sticky, table. “Where were you when you caught him?” Wes turns to me. “Did you see everything?”

I nod.

He leans in closer, “ everything ?”

I nod again.

“Was he impressive?”

I shake my head. That lanky fucker was average at best. The type of average I’m sure he felt was exceptional. I honestly take more than a little joy in knowing how completely un-impressive douche-bag Crispin’s junk is.

Wes turns to Harper. “You never confirmed he had a pencil dick but I just got it from Aiden. And considering he has the privilege of working in a professional locker room with what I can only imagine is a collection of very impressive specimens, I will trust his judgment completely. And I’m mad at you for holding out on me. ”

“Hey! I’m the victim here.” Harper cries.

“Are you though? You pawned off skinny peen Crispin on his secretary. This is perfect for you.”

“I’m failing to see how getting cheated on is perfect for me.” Harper says and I watch the two of them exchange these rapid eye flicks and nods.

Harper finally breaks eye contact first and chugs her margarita.

When it’s empty, I follow her tongue as she licks the salt off the rim of her glass.

Wes takes a sip and glares at her. I’m in awe of the conversation they’ve been able to have without exchanging words.

I’ve never been that close to someone. The best I can do is get to know the way my defensemen skate so I can track the puck more efficiently.

“You know what makes me the most mad about this?” Harper says.

Okay, here comes the emotional breakdown I’ve been expecting.

She’s just a little delayed. That’s fine, it can take time for people to process traumatic events.

“That house was freaking perfect for you!” She exclaims and throws both arms in my direction.

“Me?” I ask to clarify because, how is she thinking about me, right now?

“Yes! It had everything. The eco optimized appliances. The solar panels. It even had a tankless water heater for each bathroom so if it isn’t used everyday then you don’t have to run it. I spent hours reading up on this and it’s fascinating.”

“You spent hours researching tankless water heaters?” Wes asks.

“Yep, once I saw the property had seven water heaters I was confused and looked into it. They installed them at key points, laundry, kitchen, and each full bathroom. It must have been a huge investment at the time but they’re only 5 years old so there is still plenty of life left in them.”

“There were four full bathrooms in the house?” I ask.

“ Yes, the primary and then the remaining six bedrooms all shared one jack-and-jill style.”