Page 62 of Vain

“It was my paternal grandmother’s engagement ring. She died when I was still in high school. She was mean as a snake to everyone but me.”

“You miss her?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get to see her much. My mother hated her, and the feeling was mutual. But when I did get to visit, she had this way of making me feel like I was her whole world, you know?”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and smiles softly. “Yeah, baby, I know exactly how that feels.”

I swallow as he places the ring on the counter before turning back to me. I try to keep my eyes on his face because staring at his dick steals my ability to hear or speak, but when he calls my name like he’s said it twice already, I fear I might have failed in that endeavor.

He grins. “I’m going to make sure everything is locked up and see what Marley’s left us to eat. You want a glass of wine or something?”

“God, yes, please.”

“You got it,” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves.

“And put on some pants!” I yell out. “If Marley or Greyson walk over, you’ll give them the fright of their life with that thing aiming at them.” I hear him laughing as I lie back, grinning, the bubbles covering my chest.

I take the sponge and lather it up with shower gel before dragging it up my good arm first, swapping hands, and cleaning the scarred one. As I reach my shoulder, I pause, picturing that image of us together in the mirror’s reflection. With it comes a moment of clarity that my fear of being rejected and being judged has held me back. Worse, I didn’t even need others to be mean to me. I was being mean enough to myself. But when I was staring at the two of us together, not once did I notice my scars. All this time, I’ve let them consume my thoughts, which is ridiculous.

I’m more than my scars, and yet I let them define me. They are not who I am. They’re just something I have, visual bookmarks of how far I’ve come in my story. When I look back, without the veil of fear and panic distorting my journey, I realize I’m miles away from the woman I was. I can pinpoint the moment everything changed. It was the day Aiden walked into my life and saw beauty in all the parts of myself I found ugly.

On the days I struggled, I used to hear my mother’s voice talking down to me and making me feel ugly and stupid. Now, all I hear is Aiden calling me a goddess, and I know he means it. I feel the honesty in every whispered word.

“And he thinks he’s the lucky one?”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

AIDEN

We ate risotto and drank wine in bed, watching reruns ofFriends. Neither of us had much energy for anything else. It had been a long-ass day for the both of us—hell, it had been a series of long-ass days. But I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the evening.

Once we were done eating, I pulled her to my chest and held her close, both of us out cold within minutes.

When the alarm blares at stupid o’clock the next morning, Tilly is up and in the bathroom, getting ready. I glare at the clock, thinking of throwing it through the window. Instead, I turn it off and get to my feet with a grumble just as Tilly walks into the bedroom, dressed and ready to leave.

“I don’t like waking up alone,” I grumble.

She walks into me as I open my arms, pressing her forehead against my bare chest. “Once filming is over, we’ll do a bunch of lazy mornings in a row.”

“You promise?”

She chuckles, looking up at me. I can’t say I blame her. I’m acting like an overgrown toddler.

“I promise,” she whispers, lifting onto tiptoes to kiss me.

I give in to her request and take control of the kiss, only just refraining from peeling off her clothes and tossing her on the bed.

Reluctantly, I pull back. “What time do we need to leave?”

“You’ve got about forty-five minutes. If you wanna jump in the shower, I’ll go start the coffee.”

“Deal.” I kiss the tip of her nose and let her go. As she moves to walk past me, I slap her ass just because I can. She turns and glares at me, but there’s no heat in it.

“Behave.”

“Never!” I call out as I head to the bathroom.

I take a cold shower, but when that doesn’t relieve the tension, I fuck my fist, imagining Tilly’s lips wrapped around me, her pretty eyes looking up at me as tears streak down her cheeks. I come with a groan. It’s not the same as being inside my woman, but it’s enough to take the edge off.