A tear slips out as my reply comes out in a rush. “I’m sorry. I kept those secrets because I had to. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t.”
“I’m not mad at you, and I mean it,” he assures me. “But the more I think about it, the more pissed I get. Not at you, never at you, but at the circumstances. You shouldn’t have to go through all of this, not alone. What can I do to help? There has to be something we can do. Please.”
I feel like laughing and crying all at once. “You can’t help.”
“I can help. I’m Aiden Parker.”
“Not this time, Aiden.” I’m staring straight ahead because if I look at him, my heart will surely break. He can’t change what’s happened, what I’ve been through. The suburban houses all blend into one another, looking like one generic, mediocre house; every town I’ve been in the last year just like the others, none of them feeling like home until now, and only because I have Aiden and my friends. We’re almost at my house and I need to get out and breathe the fresh air before I burst out in tears.
“I can. If you would just tell me—”
“You can’t help!” I snap, instantly regretting my tone. “I’m sorry—it’s just—there are some things that even you can’t fix.”
“Why don’t you tell me and we’ll take it from there?” he says softly, placing his large hand on my forearm.
I pull into my driveway and shut off the car, then turn to look at him in the dark, his face illuminated by the glow of the headlights that have yet to turn off.
“It’s late. You’re exhausted. Why don’t we get some rest and I’ll tell you the entire story tomorrow, okay?”
“That’s fair.” He nods.
I quietly unlock the front door and we make our way up the stairs without making much noise. I’m not sneaking him in, per se, but I’d rather not wake my mother. I’m sure she’ll be suspicious when she sees Aiden’s car in the driveway when she leaves for work in the morning, but what’s she going to do? Move me to a new state? Oh wait, she’s already doing that.
Once Aiden’s set up in the guest bedroom, which has its own bathroom attached, I leave him so he can have a few moments of privacy, and find him something to change into. When I get back, I give a courtesy knock on the door and he opens it for me.
“I brought you an extra toothbrush and some toothpas—” I stop talking and openly stare at Aiden, who is standing in the doorway in nothing but his boxer briefs.
This is not a drill. Aiden Parker is in my house at night in nothing but his underwear.
My God, please tell me I am not salivating.
I force my head up so fast I probably give myself whiplash, and awkwardly thrust out my hand to give him the toothbrush and toothpaste. Geez, Amelia, can you be any more embarrassing?
“Thanks,” he says, an amused look on his face. Dammit, he knows how hot he is and enjoys torturing me.
“I … couldn’t find anything for you to change into … unless you think you can squeeze into my pj’s.”
“I’ll just sleep in my boxers, it’s fine.”
“I have a sweater of yours, though. I never gave it back to you after that night we got locked out of the school,” I admit sheepishly.
I’ve been wearing it around the house (in a noncreepy way) mostly because it’s nice and big and comfy and warm. But also because it reminds me of him (again, totally not creepy).
He looks at the sweater in my hand but doesn’t make any motion to take it. “Keep it. I’m hot anyway.”
Hell yeah, he is.
“If you’re sure.” I am not going to fight that hard to give it back to him. It’s a really comfy sweater.
“I’m sure. Good night, Am—Thea.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “Good night, Aiden.”
3
In the morning, I sit at the kitchen island, not really eating the cereal in front of me. I’m alternately staring at the bowl then using the spoon to lift up the cereal and drop it back into the milk unenthusiastically. My mind isn’t on food but on telling Aiden about my past. What if he thinks I’m a coward for running and letting other people get hurt? What if he thinks I have too much baggage for him and decides he wants nothing to do with me? I have no idea how to tell him my mother’s forcing us to leave in the new year, and that means he’ll probably never see or hear from me again—because whatever my new name will be, I will have to leave Amelia in the past. She’ll cease to exist like Hailey Johnson and Isabella Smith before her. When Amelia Collins disappears, she can’t bring anything or anyone with her. I can’t bring anyone with me, and I can’t stay here. The court case and everything with Aiden’s stepfather is going to be in the news, which will make my mother even more nervous about staying here. She said as much in a few quick words before she left for her flight very early this morning.
Footsteps come down the stairs and I look up to see Aiden, unfortunately fully clothed.
“Hey.”
“Morning,” I reply as I slide the box of Froot Loops toward the bowl I set out for him earlier.
He bites back a smile at our little inside joke about Froot Loops, but doesn’t make a move to pour his own, instead taking a seat beside me at the counter. He’s sitting right beside me but he still feels so far away. I pretend to be superinterested in my now-soggy cereal.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, trying not to shift nervously in my seat.
“Better with some rest now. I talked to the twins. They wanted to know why they had to stay at Julian’s last night instead of at their friend’s like they usually do on Fridays.”
It takes me a second but I connect the dots pretty easily. Friday is when Aiden goes to the Tracks and races, which is how he makes most of his money. The twins probably spend that night at their friends … free babysitting for Aiden, I guess.
“What did you tell them?” I ask.
“I said I had to go out of town last minute and wanted Julian’s parents to watch them. They don’t seem to mind, though. They said Julian’s mom is making homemade waffles for breakfast and I’d better come quick to get some before they’re all gone. I’m so glad they weren’t home when Greg showed up, or when whoever killed him was there.”
His shoulders tense and there’s a tick in his jaw that appears whenever he mentions something that could harm the twins. It’s hard, thinking of something terrible happening to someone you love more than anything in the world. He’s practically the only father those boys will ever know, and them getting hurt must be Aiden’s biggest fear.
“They’re okay, Aiden,” I say, not knowing how to comfort him. “They’re safe.”
“There are so many unanswered questions. Why was Greg in front of my house? What did he want? Why did he have my old cell phone? Who killed him?” Aiden rubs his hands through his hair and I refrain from reaching out and soothing the tension from his brow.
“I’m sure the cops are working on it. This isn’t really the right way to say this, but at least you don’t have to worry about Greg ever again.”