Shaylee
He is still so damn sexy. I keep my eyes on my mother, looking at her expectantly, ignoring the mixture of obnoxious fluttering in my stomach and the need to stomp on his foot. Yes, like a child throwing a tantrum.
Say hello to Buttercup, jackass.
My mother begins to chatter about the plans for the party, but my attention is fixed on the overwhelming presence beside me. Aden shifts, standing slightly behind me, and the warmth of his body seeps into my back. A shiver of desire runs through me before I can stifle it; my body heating up between my legs. Damn it! There went my hope that I’d gotten over my attraction to him.
I scoot a little forward on my seat and sit up straight, trying to distance myself. I hear a low chuckle behind me and then the heat moves closer. What the hell? After a moment, I feel a minuscule tug on my head and realize that Aden is playing with the ends of my long hair. Another maddening shiver courses though my body and when I hear another soft snicker, I realize that he’s not oblivious to the reactions he’s eliciting from me. The jerk is doing it on purpose!
My blood starts to boil, and not because I’m turned on. Well . . . that too. What is he doing? I’m so confused that my head is spinning. When I feel his finger trace down my spine, I jump up from my seat, desperate to get away. My mother looks at me in surprise, and but her attention is diverted when the doorbell rings.
I stifle a sigh of relief. Saved by the bell. Don’t think I don’t know what a cliché that is. Doesn’t make it less true.
I practically run from the kitchen, down the hall, to get to the door, avoiding any and all contact with Aden. I reach the door and open it to see my aunt Rhoslyn, standing on the porch. Her back is to me, and she seems to be scanning the street but at the sound of the door, she turns to me and pulls me in for a tight hug.
“Happy Birthday, beautiful!” I sink into my aunt’s embrace and inhale the scent of peppermint. Aunt Rhoslyn is my father’s sister and we have always had a special bond. She moved in for a while after my father died and we grew incredibly close. I missed her terribly when she met her husband and moved out. However, they are only a few blocks away and their house was my “home away from home” growing up.
It’s easy to see that we are related. Like me, she is tall and willowy, with straight blond hair, hanging to just below her shoulders. She always wears her hair pulled back away from her face, accentuating the one big difference in our looks—her gorgeous green eyes. If not for the eye color, she and my father could have been twins. From what I’d been told, their mother had green eyes, and their father blue. I couldn’t verify that, one way or the other, since I’d never met my grandparents. Apparently, they live in a very remote area of Scotland that is hard to travel to and from. My father always promised that we would visit when I was older, but once he was gone, we never spoke about it again.
I give her a quick peck on the cheek, then usher her inside as we chat about my job and school. I take her coat and hang it on the stand before leading her into the front room. Aden is standing at the large bay window, staring at the street, his face pensive. As we enter the room, he turns and makes his way over to greet my aunt with a soft kiss on her cheek.
To my surprise, she grasps onto his hands and looks at him intently. “It should be you.” Aden inclines his head in acknowledgement of her words, but does not reply. My eyes bounces between the two, wondering what the heck I missed.
“What should be him?” I ask, my voice full of confusion.
Aden winks at me, but ignores my question and returns to his station at the window. I look to my aunt with a raised brow, expecting answers, but she just shakes her head and whispers, “In time. Beautiful. In time.” At this point, I’m getting a little annoyed at all the cryptic conversation. I can’t keep the irritation from coming out in a huff as I turn on my heel and return to the kitchen.
My mother sends me back out with a tray laden with tea cups and a steaming pot of English Breakfast—my favorite. My three best friends arrive and we sit down to chat for a while. Throughout the conversation, their eyes keep straying to Aden. Not that I blame them. Cassidy and Julie’s expressions are of awe because, lets be honest, Aden is gorgeous. We met in college, so they have no clue as to who he is. Brenna, however, has been my best friend since we were five years old. She was the one I went to with my broken heart, crying over Aden for weeks. I built a wall around my heart, numbing myself in an attempt to assuage the pain from the hole he left in my life. She remembers what that did to me, and I can see the questions and worry in her eyes.
All I can do is shrug. I have no idea why he has shown up here. Aden doesn’t lie—ever. So, there is some truth to wanting to see me on my birthday. I can feel the stirrings of of hope inside me. Really, Shaylee? Because hoping worked out so well for you the last time? And the time before that? And…do you see where I’m going here? I mentally give myself a good, hard slap back to reality and immediately squash those feelings down.
Mom comes out front the kitchen and announces that dinner is ready so we all shuffle into the dining room. She points out our seating arrangements and I inwardly cringe when I see that she put me next to Aden. Being in close proximity to his sexy body is so not what I need right now. I start for the kitchen, to help bring out the food, and give Brenna a meaningful glance. “Brenna, you want to give me a hand?” I ask. She scurries over, and we make our way to the pantry to avoid my mom walking in on our conversation. At the last minute, I realize how stupid it was to choose this room. The memories wash over me and suddenly, I grow wet and I can feel my pulse between my legs as desire swirls in my bloodstream. Ugh! Get a grip on your raging hormones, you hussy!
Brenna eyes my suddenly heated cheeks and gives me a knowing look before she rolls her eyes. “What’s he doing here, Shaylee?” her voice is laced with irritation. I’m not surprised. She’s still pretty pissed at the way Aden left me.
“I have no freaking clue. He said he wanted to see me on my birthday.”
Brenna looks skeptical. “That’s it? That can’t be all.”
I shake my head. “Aden doesn’t lie, Brenna,” I state emphatically. “That is clearly part of his reason for being here.” I run my fingers through my hair and blow out a frustrated breath. “Although, I can’t imagine why he has suddenly decided that I am worth his time. There’s obviously another reason”—my eyes narrow—“and I think my mother and aunt know what it is.”
Brenna sighs deeply. “Well, if your mom invited him, there isn’t much you can do about it.” She grabs my hand and squeezed it. “Just please promise me that you won’t let him back into your heart. I can’t stand to see you broken like that again. Promise me, Shaylee.”
As much as I hate to admit it, I know I can’t make that promise. The truth is, Aden has never left my heart, but I am determined not to let him break the shell I’ve built around it. “I don’t think he’s here to woo me, Brenna.” I let sarcasm ooze from my words. “He clearly didn’t want to be with me two years ago; I don’t see why anything would have changed. He’s not one to make the same mistake twice.” I inwardly wince at the vocal acknowledgment that he views what happened between us as a mistake.
Brenna nods, seeming to accept my words, and we return to the kitchen, grabbing some random things to make it appear as though we’d stepped out for a reason other than our little powwow. When I reach my seat, Aden stands and pulls out my chair. I give him a small smile of thanks, and once I’m seated, I tell the girl smitten girl sighing inside of me, to shut the fuck up.
The conversation during dinner revolves around our plans for Christmas break. A lot of the girls in our circle have decided to go in together on a house in upstate New York, and ski the holidays away. I would never desert my family for Christmas, but I intend to join them a few days later for New Year’s. I studiously avoid sending any looks Aden’s way. But, for most of the meal, I can feel his burning gaze burning on me. My mom stands up to get my cake, and I jump up to help, grateful for an excuse to get away from Aden for few moments and regroup. Unfortunately, Mom is adamant that the birthday girl have her cake brought to her, and she scolds me back into my seat.
Aden leans back in his seat and casually drapes his arm across the back of my chair. He is deep in conversation with my aunt, who is sitting at the end of the table to his right. I begin to scoot forward in my seat, to avoid any accidental contact with him, when I’m stopped short. Aden’s hand is lightly gripping my hair and he tugs softly to keep me from moving. I turn to glare at him, but the effect is ruined because it’s directed at the back of his head since he is still talking to my Aunt Rhoslyn. Mashing my lips together with displeasure, I face forward again, my body tight with frustration. Then, his hand wanders down to my neck and starts kneading the tight muscles there. I can feel myself melting into his touch; the warmth from his fingers starting to spread. It sizzles under my skin and when it reaches, my now damp, underwear, I squirm uncomfortably in my seat. The whole situation is incredibly bizarre and I’m suddenly exhausted from the effort to keep my distance and protect myself, while attempting to figure out what the hell is going on!
We finish dessert, open gifts, and finally, the night comes to a close. I hug each of my friends and send them on their way, before turning to say goodbye to Aunt Rhoslyn. I expect her to be in the entry, putting on her coat, but instead, I find her sitting in the den with Mom and Aden. Aunt Rhoslyn and my mom are seated next to each other on the couch below a big picture window that overlooks one of the few big backyards in the city. Aden is sprawled on the love seat across from them. As I enter the room, all three look up at me and their conversation comes to a sudden halt. They are staring at me like they are expecting me to sprout wings or something.
When did I enter the damn Twilight zone?
“Have a seat, sweetie,” Mom speaks up first and as I glance around at each of their faces, their solemn expressions make me wary. I walk toward a recliner but stop when I notice it’s piled with presents. The other is in the same condition and realize I have no other choice but to sit next to Aden. Just peachy. I make my way over there and perch on the edge, leaning away from him, with my elbow on the arm rest.
I look at my mother expectantly, but she just nods toward Aden and gives him her full attention. I switch my focus to him an eyebrow raised in question. He smirks at me for a moment before his face smooths and turns serious.
“Shaylee, I haven’t had time to prepare for this, so I’m sorry if I don’t handle it in the best way. I wasn’t given this assignment, until the last minute.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Normally, we’d have more time to ease you into this information, but for some reason, you’ve attracted attention to yourself and we need to get you somewhere safe.”
Attention? What the hell? “I don’t understand.”
“The thing is…” He looks toward my mother for a moment and when she doesn’t jump in, he sighs and turns back to me. “There are things that you don’t know and…” he trails off once again.
“Aden, just spit it out, would you?” I snap. “You’re giving me a freaking headache.” This time, he’s the one who raises a brow.
“Alright, I’ll just say it.” He takes a deep breath and blows it out with a whoosh. “You’re only half human, Shaylee.”
Say what??
My mind is spinning at his words—they make absolutely no sense.
“You’re also half faery.”
I stare at him for a moment as rage begins to fill me. Before I can think better of it, I pull my hand back and send it flying.