Chapter Eleven

“Morning. Did I wake you?”

Finn did, in fact, wake Aiden. But he wasn’t about to admit it. Lying in the mess of blankets and sheets that only a restless night’s sleep could cause, Aiden had answered the phone with a lethargic groan.

“What?” Aiden sat up, smacking his cheek lightly to wake himself up. He could have ignored the call, conked back out for a few hours. But after his chat last night with Mam, he didn’t dare to, just in case she called back for round two. “Nah, nah. I’ve been awake for ages.”

Lies. But as far as Finn was aware, he could have been doing yoga during sunrise. Definitely not mentally recovering from that conversation last night that went on for far too long and with way too much passive aggressiveness.

“Have you? Fair play.” There was a rustle at the other end of the line, and briefly Aiden let himself imagine Finn shifting around to get comfortable in his own bed. “Listen, I meant to call you after I picked up Millie. But then her mum came over to check up on her and…” Finn let out a puff of air. “Anyway. I’m calling to see if you want to come with us to the city today?”

“The city?” Aiden parroted, drawing his knees up to his chest. “What for?”

“For some sightseeing, shopping. I dunno, day’s your own,” replied Finn. “Ryan called asking me how you’re getting on, and I figured I’d chase after that five-star review.”

He snorted. “That’s big of you.”

“Right? Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity here. Saves you getting the bus.”

It took a moment for Aiden to weigh up the pros and cons of Finn’s offer. On the one hand, he could kick back and make the most of the house.

(Note: avoid Finn.)

On the other, it was a good opportunity to be a tourist.

(Totally not to see Finn again.)

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “I’d like that.”

“Great. I’ll swing by around noon, pick you up.”

Finn hung up before Aiden could question exactly when “noon” was. Was Finn a stickler for the 12 p.m. on the dot sort of timing, or was it in or around the afternoon? There were too many variables to consider, so Aiden hauled himself out of bed to get ready. And after a coffee and a hot shower proved not to be enough to bring him back to the land of the living, he donned a pair of trainers and set out for a run.

Something to clear his head, get the blood pumping, brace himself for—

“Dad, it’s that strange man again.”

The voice was muffled, but it broke through the hypnotic beat of NSYNC pulsating through Aiden’s headphones. Skidding to a halt, he didn’t have to look far to see the source of the call.

Slowing down to a stop beside him was Finn’s all-too-familiar scuba-diving jeep. Millie sat in the passenger side with a dubious scowl on her face. Aiden raised a hesitant hand to wave.

“I didn’t know you ran,” said Finn, resting his forearm against the steering wheel. A pair of sunglasses was tucked into the neck of his shirt, drawing Aiden’s attention to those collarbones for a moment longer than necessary. However, the rest of Finn wasn’t any less distracting—from that smattering of stubble to the slight crook to his nose to that perpetual smolder in striking brown eyes.

Aiden (internally) shook any and all of those appraising thoughts off. “Trying to get back into the habit.”

“How’s that going for you?” replied Finn, clearly making no effort to disguise his amusement at Aiden’s current getup. He froze under that studying gaze, the languid way that Finn ran his eyes up and down his (sweaty) form.

When he’d left the house that morning, Aiden hadn’t paid much mind to the running shorts and vest that he’d selected. Breathable and ideal for mobility. But right now, under the weight of Finn’s gaze and the knowledge of what they’d gotten up to not two nights ago, Aiden felt more than a little self-conscious. He was pretty sure the lavender shorts were Daire’s, and they were decidedly more fashion forward than Aiden could ever be.

“It’s going.” Aiden crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you early, or am I late?”

Millie surged forward from beside Finn, head half stuck out of the window. “You’re late.”

“We’re early,” Finn corrected with a shake of his head and a pointed look thrown toward his daughter. “Millie’s afraid that we won’t be able to get her bike if we’re not there ASAP.”

“We won’t be,” Millie pushed. “It’s always busy on Saturdays.”

“Mils, I really don’t think that anyone else is going to be going after that particular bike,” he said patiently.

“You don’t know that.” She wasn’t backing down, and Aiden had to respect that.

“I can go now,” Aiden interrupted, a fleeting smile thrown Millie’s way. Okay, sue him. Maybe he was trying to win brownie points with this kid. “Really, it’s not a problem. I’d hate for Millie to miss out.”

Even if Aiden had taken her side, Millie’s expression didn’t soften toward him. Finn pursed his lips and got out of the car.

“All right then. I’ve been outvoted.” Without encouragement or even an indication that Aiden might have needed it, Finn opened the back door. Aiden stepped inside with a brief thank-you, thrown off. Either Finn was exercising his gentlemanliness, or Aiden looked so exhausted from his run that yanking a car door open would take him out.

He pulled on his seat belt, feeling a pair of intense brown eyes on him all the while. Except this time they decidedly didn’t belong to the man in the front of the car, but his far more intimidating daughter.

Clearing his throat and fixing the collar of his shirt that had fallen over his shoulder, he directed his question to Millie. “How’re you feeling?”

Steamrolling right past that question with one of her own, Millie firmly asked, “How did you know I like koalas? Did you see it on Facebook?”

Aiden recovered quickly from the rapid questioning. In a situation like this, it was better not to show fear. He wasn’t entirely sure if that rule applied to eight-year-olds wearing dungarees with butterflies on them, but he was going to follow it anyway. “I don’t have a Facebook.”

“I know. Dad was complaining about that.”

“Millie,” Finn scolded.

For what seemed to be the tenth time since spotting them, Aiden was thrown off again. He clutched the seat belt, bug-eyed and looking everywhere but the back of Finn’s head.

Finn was trying to find him on Facebook? Aiden was torn between Finn caring enough to look him up in the first place and the fact that his first port of call was Facebook. Aiden was relieved that Finn didn’t try Instagram. His account, long since abandoned, was filled with photographs from college and those semi-embarrassing new-couple pictures that made him roll his eyes now.

Finn’s voice was tight. “What do we say to Aiden about the gift?”

“Dad drank the lemonade.”

Aiden frowned. “That wasn’t for him.”

“Sugar overload,” Finn argued, a touch defensively. “I don’t think flat lemonade would have helped.”

“It helps everything,” Aiden said, matching his tone.

Lips curling at the corners, Finn caught Aiden’s gaze in the rearview mirror, holding him there for the briefest of moments before rubbing his hand across his mouth.

“I think what Millie means to say is thank you. Right, honey?”

Millie turned toward the window to stare outside.

“Need to get you a new key while we’re out today,” Finn said, likely to sidestep Millie’s lack of engagement. He reached out, absently plucking a leaf from the back of Millie’s dungarees—like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Don’t think I’d forgotten.”

Think? No. Hope? Absolutely.

“It’s really not that big of an issue,” Aiden brushed off. “It’s good cardio. Climbing in and out of the window.”

“Dad.” Millie gasped. Her voice was hushed but delighted. “Can we do that?”

“Don’t even think about it…”

Eyes narrowed, not at all pleased with the foot-down approach her father was taking, Millie changed tactics.

Was Aiden really that cynical? Thinking that a kid had tactics?

“So Aiden,” Millie began, turning around fully in her seat, arms cradling the headrest and eyes steely. “What do you do?”

“Christ.” Finn laughed. “It’s not an interrogation, Millie.”

Millie’s frown deepened. “Why not?”

Shaking his head, trying his best to marshal his expression to take Millie’s inquiry very seriously, Aiden replied, “Nothing, right now.”

“How can you do nothing?”

“It takes a lot of effort,” Aiden said gravely. “What do you do?”

Pondering for the briefest of moments, Millie was ready with an answer. “None of your business.”

“Millie gardens,” Finn divulged, earning what Aiden could only describe as a glare of utter betrayal.

“Dad.”

“All right, all right. My mistake. You don’t like gardening.”

Once again, Aiden caught Finn’s eye in the rearview mirror—and he let himself smile.

Aiden wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting once they got into the heart of Brisbane. Certainly not seeing the gigantic skyscrapers soaring into the sky up close, the mounds of pedestrians darting in and around cars when the lights wouldn’t turn green fast enough. Dublin had its own fair share of chaos, enough that Aiden’s mam avoided it if she could help it. But not to this level. This was a whole other beast—one that Aiden felt himself swept up in the moment that he got out of the car.

Enough that when a blur of blue ran straight past him, he didn’t immediately react.

Not until he heard Finn’s abrupt call of, “Millie, wait up!”

But that flurry of dungarees didn’t stop, and Millie rounded the next corner—out of sight.

“Shit.” Finn leaped into action, car door slamming behind him as he took off running.

Fuck. She could have gone anywhere.

Aiden chased after him. Finn was up ahead, calling out his daughter’s name with a tone that steadily grew more concerned with each iteration. Turning the corner, they were faced with a bustling shopping street that spread out in both directions.

“I’ll take the right!” Aiden told Finn, nearly colliding in his haste with a man carrying armfuls of freshly cut flowers. It was very much a “split up and look for clues” decision, where the stakes were higher and the masked villain was Aiden all along.

Is that why Millie ran off? Because of Aiden?

It was possible. Probably. Fuck, it was definitely because of Aiden.

Millie shut off after his attempts at conversation, and there was only so long that Aiden could bear sitting in an enclosed space without some form of chitchat. It made him on edge, ill at ease. So sure, he’d talked to Finn—about everything and nothing. Finn tried his best to engage Millie in the conversation, but the more he tried, the more she stared out the window.

Aiden wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that she was doing that for the (admittedly stunning) view.

He knew that feeling. Being in a situation you didn’t want to be in, feeling left out. He knew it, and he’d just sat there and—

“My bad.” Aiden narrowly avoided another collision, this time with a scooter.

As he pummeled down the street, it was a constant battle not to send himself or someone else flying. Ducking and dodging to the best of his ability, he called out Millie’s name every few steps.

Should he try to make himself sound more like Finn? No, that wouldn’t work. Aiden didn’t have a knack for the accent. Maybe herd Millie back to the car with his voice? She might try to avoid him and do a U-turn. But that plan fell apart before he had a chance to execute it.

“Hey, sorry.” Aiden changed tactics, asking the same question to any person that actually stopped to hear him out. “Have you seen a little girl? Blue dungarees, dark hair? No? All right. Thanks.”

By the twentieth person, Aiden had almost added a “I’ll just go fuck myself then” but decided against it. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault that Millie had done a runner. It was his. It was—

“Aiden, any luck?” Finn fell into step beside him, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

“No.” Taking a moment—catching his breath, to be honest—he hedged a look at Finn. Finn, who Aiden thought was unshakeable (except for in the presence of spiders), looked in a state. Red face, eyes wild, breathing ragged.

“I hit a dead end, then I thought I saw her come this way but it wasn’t, and I figured, fuck, I should call the police—”

“Hey.” Aiden grasped his wrist, pulling Finn’s attention to him. “We’ll find her. The bike shop—is that nearby?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Finn’s brows were furrowed in thought, eyes constantly searching. “It’s…close.”

“Check there. Your phone’s on, right?”

“My phone.” Finn was caught in a daze, consumed by the task of finding his daughter in a city that could have swallowed her whole.

“Your phone,” Aiden repeated, hand still around his wrist. “I’ll call you if I find her. And we will. All right?”

Aiden half expected a biting remark about not making promises that he couldn’t keep, but Finn didn’t make it—and maybe he knew better. There was no alternative. They were going to find her. With one final squeeze to Finn’s wrist, Aiden took off running once again. Honestly, when this was all over he was going to thank Daire for their choice in activewear. Zero chafing. That or Aiden was far too preoccupied with the task at hand to notice his thighs abrading each other.

Self-injuring thighs aside, Aiden knew that he’d have to change up tactics. Kids had endless amounts of energy, but those reserves were bound to run out. Or maybe Aiden was deluding himself as he stepped inside air-conditioned stores, asking each of the sales clerks if they’d seen someone of Millie’s description.

The first shop, an upmarket pottery shop, was a bust.

The second, a tourist trap with bright beach towels and novelty mugs, equally so. But Aiden did have to make a swift escape when the owner tried to sell him a set of phallic-shaped cigarette trays.

So on and on it went, and Aiden was starting to lose hope. Go back to mindlessly darting through the streets in the hopes of seeing a flurry of blue.

“Excuse me.” A soft voice made itself known. Aiden spun around, perhaps a bit too animatedly for a glassware shop, taking in a woman cradling her own small child. “I couldn’t help but overhear, but are you looking for a little girl?”

“Yeah.” Aiden took a step forward, desperately hoping that this was a sighting and not a parent about to admonish him for losing a child. He rattled off the description that he’d uttered way too many times in the past hour. More? How long had it been?

“I think I saw her. Down by Scoop’s Ice Cream Parlor.”

Aiden could have picked her up and spun her around. But he didn’t, because self-restraint and social norms were a thing that he was acutely aware of. Even with those in mind, he wasn’t entirely sure if he said thank you before leaving the shop. He was in far too much of a hurry to get there, despite having no idea where the hell Scoop’s was. Plugging it into the map app on his phone, disregarding any roaming costs, Aiden took off to the left.

“Finn.” The phone barely had a chance to dial before Finn answered. “I have a potential sighting at Scoop’s. Heading there now.”

“Scoop’s? She— Fucking— Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

Aiden didn’t wait around to sign off the call, flicking back to the directions and dutifully following that guiding blue line that he hoped would lead him to the end of this nightmare.

Annoyingly, Scoop’s was back near where they’d parked the car. Nestled between a sign for the botanic gardens and a boutique hotel, Scoop’s had a queue outside stretching a mile long. Throwing out apologies left, right, and center as he bypassed each of the overheating patrons in search of ice cream, Aiden made his way inside the parlor. The scent of waffle cones was a sickly-sweet smack to the face, but Aiden had to stay focused and away from temptation.

Temptation that Millie herself had clearly been drawn to.

Behind the counter sat the eight-year-old in question, face full of sprinkles, happily licking away at a cone. Two people in aprons worked around her, giving the impression that Millie had been here for some time.

“Millie. There you are.” Shit, was his voice too harsh? Too admonishing? But he couldn’t help it, not with the panic still coursing through his veins. The possibility of anything happening to her would have been—

“Millie, baby, do you know this man?” asked the worker, looking back at Millie.

Everything happened both far too quick and impossibly slow. Recognition flickered across her features, but it dissolved just as quickly as she took her next lick of bubblegum ice cream. Millie shook her head, ponytail whipping back and forth with the motion. Aiden thought that he’d known the feeling of betrayal, but he was quickly rethinking that belief.

“Millie.” Was that his voice? Did he always sound so croaky? “C’mon. Your dad and I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“Danielle, I don’t know him,” Millie said quickly, perfecting the act of “I’m small, cute, and afraid right now” as she huddled in on herself.

Danielle whipped back to him, ice cream scoop poised menacingly in her hand. Aiden instinctively raised his palms in surrender. Was he going to get a handful of sprinkles to the face? Aiden had to admire Danielle’s immediate defense of Millie. It was a comfort to know that she’d at least found somewhere safe to go instead of—

Yeah. Aiden wasn’t going to think about any alternatives. Just that Millie was safe and that he was potentially about to be maimed. Aiden could take the pros and cons of this situation.

“Millie.” Another voice, this one far too familiar to Aiden to ever mistake. Finn rounded the counter, which may have been against hygiene protocols, and bundled the little girl into his arms.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Aiden bristled. She sounded so sweet, so innocent. Not the voice of a child who had single-handedly caused him early-onset graying. Aiden swore that he could feel them growing in as he stood there, arms raised and eyes never leaving Danielle and her spoon.

“Scared the shit out of me.” Finn lifted Millie straight off the counter. From over his shoulder, Millie continued to lick her ice cream. “Why’d you run off? You can’t be doing that.”

“This is your dad, honey?” Danielle asked, with one last critical regard tossed in Aiden’s direction. Millie nodded dutifully. “All right then. Let me set you up with another scoop before you head on out of here.”

“Another?” Finn pulled back, the nuclear-blue ice cream previously unnoticed, from the puzzled look on his face.

“I got lost.” Millie shrugged, unbothered—content in her dad’s arms and a promise of more ice cream. “Ice cream helped.”

“Ice cream always helps,” Danielle added, depositing another scoop to Millie’s waiting cone. “Except in the case of distracted daddies that really should keep a closer eye on their kid.”

The last part was said with such a frosted pointedness that Aiden doubted they needed functioning freezers to keep everything chilly in here. And then, to Aiden, “You can put your hands down.”

He bit the inside of his cheeks, arms flopping to his side.

“In his defense,” Aiden began, because he didn’t like the idea of Finn getting all the blame for this. Millie knew what she was doing, Aiden could have been more mindful of what he was doing, and Finn maybe should have continued on that left turn.

“No.” Finn shook his head, securing Millie in his arms. “She’s right. I was distracted. Thank you, Danielle, for taking care of her.”

Danielle hummed noncommittally, focused on the task of restocking the chocolate chips. Millie threw a subdued thank-you to her as Finn carried her out of the shop. Aiden, unable to stop himself, said, “Thanks. But he’s a good dad, really. She’s just…really, really fast.”

Had a future in athletics if she ever wanted to, clearly.

“Good dad or not, priority should always be his kid.” Danielle ran a critical eye up and down Aiden’s form, pausing briefly on the purple shorts. “Not a new fling.”

Aiden choked. On what, he wasn’t sure. Air, a fly, a stray sprinkle. The possibilities were endless.

“I’m not— We’re not— He’s not.”

“None of my business.” No, probably not. But Danielle seemed to know a lot more about Millie’s thought process than Aiden or Finn had the liberty to. “I just know that little girl’s got a good head on her shoulders. No use in bullshitting her.”

Aiden opened his mouth to dispute, but the scoop was back in Danielle’s hand, and he thought better of it.

“I’ll just…go.”

“I think that would be best, yeah.”

“Everything looks great, by the way,” Aiden continued as he backed out of the shop, throwing a few apologetic smiles toward the queue on his way. “Super great.”

Danielle didn’t respond, and Aiden didn’t expect her to. Back outside under the hot afternoon sun, Aiden feared for a moment that he was now the lost one. And surely those searching efforts exercised earlier would pale in comparison.

Or Aiden would have to find a taxi to get him back.

But the lucky thing about arriving with a person who was obscenely tall was the ability to pick him out of a crowd. Finn stood out from the people he walked among, still carrying Millie and clearly in the middle of an important conversation with her. Nothing about his body language reminded Aiden of the times he’d been chewed out by his mam, scolded for doing something wrong. Instead, he was gentle. Understanding.

Aiden trailed behind them, feeling a bit like a shitty spy but trying his best not to intrude on whatever discussion was going on. His efforts were all for naught, considering that Millie quickly spotted him trailing behind like a lost dog. After she whispered something into her father’s ear, Finn peered back over his shoulder, expression unreadable enough to make Aiden’s palms clam up. Regardless of the thoughts hidden behind striking eyes, Finn stopped in his tracks long enough for Aiden to catch up with him.

“We’re going to head back,” Finn said, a tightness to his voice that Aiden hadn’t heard before. “Do you want to come with or—”

“But Dad.” Millie jostled in his arms, shaking his shoulder. “My bike.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you ran off,” countered Finn, tone leaving no room for argument. He turned back to Aiden, exhaustion embedded into each line of his body. “You can come back with us. Or there’s a bus that…”

Aiden tuned out the rest of the question, because he only needed to look at Millie and Finn to know that his presence wasn’t needed right now. That while Millie had made her distaste for Aiden’s presence known in the car ride down, going back was time that the two needed between themselves.

“It’s okay,” Aiden replied, as chipper as he could make himself sound. “I’ll just catch the bus. There were a couple of cool shops that I’d like to take a look in.”

Lies. Complete lies. Any place that he went inside he could never return to in fear of being identified as the scruffy, out-of-breath weirdo that skidded in not long ago.

“Sorry about this.” Finn switched Millie to the other hip before rummaging around in his pocket for his wallet. “For the bus fare.”

“Not happening.” Aiden took a few steps backward in case Finn decided to toss coins in his direction. “I’ll just take one star off your rating.”

That earned a smile. Small, fleeting. Mostly hidden by a duck of Finn’s head, but Aiden saw it—that was what counted.

“Just the one?”

“I’ll be generous.” Aiden took one more step back, arms swinging by his sides. “I’ll see you both later. Maybe. If you want to. I’ll just…yeah.”

Millie turned in toward Finn’s neck, and Finn offered a brief wave before turning back toward the car.

Aiden exhaled noisily, taking in the city around him. Properly, this time. Not in a frenzied panic. Took in the wide streets, the looming skyscrapers. And yet, Aiden couldn’t find that initial sensation he’d had. Of excitement and appreciation.

Instead, only a clench in his chest and a sudden rumble in his stomach.

Ice cream wouldn’t be half bad about now.