Vipers and Virtuosos (Monsters & Muses, #2)(13)

6





Aiden shoves a pair of NYU sweatpants into my arms, while the shop owner moves to the back to grab our bagels.

I glance at the gray sweats, then up at him, disbelief narrowing my gaze.

Removing his cap, he swipes a hand through his messy brown hair and the smile from before slips off his face.

“Problem?”

“How did you…” I trail off, realizing that the end of the sentence is stupid.

It’s not possible for him to know I used to dream about going to school there, or that I feel most at home in baggy clothes.

Questioning coincidence only leads to trouble.

Shaking the thoughts away, I blow out a breath and look around the tiny store. Checkered linoleum tile covers the floor, and there are racks of bagged clothes hanging against each wall. A conveyor carousel sits behind the checkout counter, occasionally moving forward when the brunette manning the register hits the button.

She’s flipping through an old issue of Vogue, one I recognize from the stash I kept in my nightstand when my mother was still alive.

Aiden graces the cover, along with headlines about his favorite vacation spots and the best sex positions. My mouth grows dry as I slide my gaze from the print version to the human in front of me, trying my best to reconcile the two.

“This is weird,” I say when his hand finds my elbow, and he guides me to a back corner near the family restroom.

“You’re weird.”

The brunette jumps to her feet, shoving the magazine in our direction. “You’re Aiden James! Oh, my god, can you sign this magazine for me?”

He winces, stepping up to the counter. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Think you can keep my being here a secret?”

She nods wildly, practically drooling as he takes the pen she holds out. With a flourish, he signs, and then she scurries off to the back of the store without a single glance at me.

“Sorry about that,” he says, once again pushing us to the back.

I make a face, jerking my arm out of his grasp. He brings his fingers together, popping each knuckle individually, and studies a spot above my head.

“Do you realize how many girls would kill to be in your position right now?”

Shifting my weight from side to side, I purse my lips. “Why don’t you go hang out with one of them?”

“No refunds or exchanges when you leave the premises.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a red cardboard ticket, holding it up in the light. “So sayeth the fine print. That’s where they get you.”

And of course, not reading the fine print of the guest book I signed is why I’m in this mess in the first place.

I stare at the ticket, then him. Waiting.

One of my eyebrows cocks, and his left one mirrors the movement.

He moves forward an inch. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “You feel that?”

“What?”

“Fate.” He gestures between us. “It’s working right here, right now.”

Oh, good. My childhood crush is a crazy person.

“All I feel is annoyed.” My arm lashes out, shoving him back a step. “Would you mind… not watching me undress?”

Once again, he drags his gaze over my form slowly, the heat emanating from those gravestone-colored eyes warming me all over. “I’ll go check on the bagels.”

Pulling my phone from my purse, I clear the texts from Boyd and triple check for any from Mellie or Aurora. My heart sinks at their lack of communication, even though I know better.

Doesn’t make it hurt less.

As soon as Aiden’s disappeared through the curtain separating the kitchen from the storefront, I duck behind a rack of clothes and change quickly, praying to whatever omniscient being lives in the sky that no one else comes in.

Pushing the uncomfortable dress off my shoulders, I let the silky material pool at my feet, then step out of it and pull the pants up to my waist. Heaving a sigh of relief, I secure the drawstrings and fumble around for the top, my forearm tight against my breasts as I search.

And search some more.

My throat burns as the realization sets in that I don’t have a top to put on. Pushing into a standing position, I start sifting through the rack in front of me, trying to find something that isn’t a suit jacket.

“Jesus, what—”

I don’t hear the footsteps until they’re right at my side, and the sudden warmth seeping into my exposed skin startles me; I jump back, my foot hooking on a mop bucket, and then I’m falling.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I brace for impact against the floor, my hands flailing as I try to catch myself.

Instead of tasting tile, I’m jerked backward, my spine connecting with a bulky, stonelike surface.

One of Aiden’s arms wraps around my waist, pinning my hips so my ass is in line with his pelvis. The other brackets my ribs, almost crushing them as he hauls me up.

Panic tears through my chest, shredding my resolve like it’s nothing more than cheap ribbon. My breasts rest on top of his forearm, and it takes me a second longer than it should to realize.

A calloused hand grazes the sliver of puckered flesh that mars my abdomen; a fat, jagged mass stretching from the outside of my left hip to my belly button. Unmistakable evidence of the one night of my life I can’t remember, but when he touches it, I’m flooded with sensations.