It Matters To Me (The Wandering Hearts Book 2) (22 page)

W
HEN
A
IDEN SUGGESTED A DAY
off at the hotel pool, it sounded a little like heaven. I never thought about the hell it would be to watch him strut around in a pair of swim trunks. It was easy to distract myself when we first arrived at the pool with a family of children playing and splashing in the water serving as something to focus on. However, within five minutes of our arrival, they disappeared back into their lives, leaving me in the treacherous waters of half naked with my super hot boss.

I tug on the left strap of my black one piece bathing suit after looking down and seeing my big gal leftie boob is starting to develop a mind of her own and wander where ever the hell she wants. Sitting on the edge of the pool, I begin to make circles with my feet in the water, staring at the trail.

“I should have known you were trouble when I first set eyes on you,” Aiden says, swimming in my direction, his hard body hidden beneath the water’s rippling surface.

“How’s that?” I ask.

“In a few weeks’ time you already have me playing hooky,” he answers, I can feel his eyes watching me. I glance down, ensuring leftie hasn’t once again strayed. Nope, she’s right where she should be.

“If I may disagree, this day at the pool was your idea,” I remind him.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you in a swimsuit,” his eyes are fixed watching for my response.

I feel my cheeks flush hot, and I can only imagine that my face currently matches my hair. Gripping the edge of the pool I twist and slide down into the water, slipping under the surface for a moment then popping back up. In my mind, I imagine I look as if I’m moving in slow motion, just like a sexy actress from a movie. But then I remember, as my head breaks the surface, and I explode in a coughing fit, in reality, these movements are usually something that gets lost in translation. In fact, it’s more likely I resemble a baby otter, struggling to the surface.

“Are you all right?” he asks, placing a hand on my back. It arches involuntarily in response.

My voice cracks as I say, “chlorine up my nose,” coughing again, my face now red for a completely different reason. My cough gives way to laughter, because really, what else can I do but laugh.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks again, closing the gap between us.

I nod, wiping the water from my eyes.

“You do know how to swim, don’t you?” he teases.

I splash him swiftly and repeatedly, hammering him with water. “Yes!”

“Okay, okay!” he shrieks. “Sorry, you’re an Olympic swimmer, I get it.”

I relent. We float close to one another, but not close enough that I’m uncomfortable.
I wouldn’t mind being a little more uncomfortable
, I think, but then quickly remind myself,
boss.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if it was always this easy,” I say without thinking.

He cranes his neck, his brows stitch a glare clouded in confusion. “If what was always this easy?”

I shrug. “People.”

“Are you calling me easy now?” he responds, smiling.

I threaten another splash, he waves his hand, surrendering before the battle. “What I mean is, it’s easy to hang out with you.”

“Thanks,” he starts uneasily. “I guess.”

“What?” I snap. “No hidden insult. You were a real pain at first, but now, it just feels so simple when we’re together.”

“Yeah,” he’s laughing. “No hidden insults at all.”

“Fine, I take it all back. You make things very difficult,” I growl, creating more distance between us, swimming to the other end of the pool.

“Oh come on,” he groans, giving chase. I have to admit, I like when he chases me. “I was just playing around.”

I flash him a smile. “I stand by my first statement, you’re easy.”

“All right,” he holds up a hand, my eyes immediately gravitate to the defined pectoral muscles that are peeking out from under the surface of the water. “You’ve got me all figured out.”

“Ha!” I scoff. “Far from it.”

“Oh, so I’m still a mystery?” he asks, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure you out,” I assure him.

A smile curves across his face as he moves closer to me. Still not uncomfortably close. “How about we play a game?”

“Why does this feel like in high school when the boy waited for the gym teacher to turn his back before suggesting a friendly round of, ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?’”

Throwing his head back Aiden gives a sharp short laugh. “No, I mean we can play that if you want, but I was going to say how about a game of I’ll tell you about me if you tell me about you.”

I shrug. “Sounds similar to what I said.”

“How about you start?” he suggests, ignoring my snide comment.

“Why me?” I quickly protest.

He’s moved closer still, now teetering on the edge of uncomfortable and it makes me smile involuntarily. “Because I came up with the game, so now you have to go first.”

“That seems like faulty logic to me, but okay.” I grimace. “What do you want to know?”

“How about Mr. Right who turned Mr. Wrong?” His eyes are fixed on me. Part of me wants to turn away, but the part of me that’s aching says to stay right where I am, despite the heat rising inside me.

“What about him?” I cut back at him. I roll my bottom lip against my teeth, waiting anxiously for his response.

He lifts a shoulder and shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know, what’s the whole story? And don’t tell me there’s not more, there’s always more.”

“When you’re in college and a hot guy tells you that he loves you, you believe them,” I start.

“Are you saying he lied?” Aiden pushes.

I shake my head, wishing it were my turn to ask the questions. “No, I think he loves me in the only way he knows how. But I didn’t even know who I was supposed to be back then. Don’t get me wrong, I thought I wanted forever with him, I really did.”

“But?” He looks at me while floating his arms on the top of the water. I try not to let his glistening shoulders distract me any more than they already are.

“How do you know what you want at that point in your life? I mean, you spend the first few years of college trying to figure out what life looks like without your parents over your shoulder every moment. The last thing I was capable of figuring out was who I should spend forever with,” I explain, admitting a truth I hadn’t yet admitted to myself, “I didn’t even take the time to figure out who I wanted to be.”

“And who do you want to be?” His question is genuine. I can see it in the way he’s watching me.

The words slip from my lips with such ease, I surprise myself. “I guess I want to matter.”

“Who do you want to matter to?” His voice is soft, and a glint in his eyes tells me that he understands. I wonder if he has burned with the same desire.

I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s a question of who. It’s more that I want to make a difference in some way. I know it sounds totally cheeseball, but I want to leave the world a little better than it was before me.”

“Bullshit,” He huffs, his gaze now narrowed.

“Excuse me?” I choke out.

I feel my lips tighten; I hate that he causes such a physical response in me.

He doesn’t look away, convicted in his declaration. “First off, there’s nobody in the world that is all doe-eyed and selfless as you’re playing yourself to be.”

“I never said I was selfless!” I snap.

He mocks me with a high-pitched voice, “I just want to leave the world a little bit better.”

“Stop it!” I demand.

“Why can’t you just be honest with yourself?”

“I am.” I insist, backing up a few steps, but he matches my movements.

“And you can’t make the world a better place with him?” I shift in the water, his relentless questioning making me uncomfortable.

“I didn’t say that. I swore I was going to marry him someday, but I realized I spent so much time wanting to be wanted by him there was nothing left of me. I don’t want everything I am to be wasted on making a relationship work. Love should make you stronger. It should make you more, not suck you dry.”

“That’s probably the most honest statement you’ve made to me about him.”

“Shut the hell up.” I snarl. He laughs, and it only serves to piss me off more.

“For the record, I think he’s crazy,” Aiden adds, his tone once again tender.

I huff, but I have to know. “Crazy for what?”

“Not wanting you back.”

I shake my head. “That’s just it, he wants me, but he wants me for who I was. He’s not interested in watching me grow into something more. He has no desire to get uncomfortable with me.”

“I get that, it can be a scary thing when you think someone you care about is outgrowing you,” he offers.

“Is that what happened to you? Someone outgrew you?” I ask, hoping to redirect the spotlight.

“No,” he says out of the corner of his mouth. “My mom.”

This was a stupid idea. What were we thinking? Let’s play a game. Please, there is nothing fun about this conversation. What am I supposed to say? I know his mom killed herself when he was little. Does he know that I know? He has to know that everyone who ever meets him knows. Is it like a badge he’s had to wear since that day?

“I—” I’ve got nothing.

He sucks in a breath and relief floods my body as he takes the pressure off me by continuing his story. “From what I’ve …” he’s choosing his words carefully, “gathered over the years, my mom outgrew my father. He was always interested in money and not much more. I think somewhere in her mind she thought after she had me, things would get better.” His voice trails off. The double doors that lead into the pool area open and a gaggle of teens stumble in, laughing loudly.

One shouts cannon ball before turning and with a running leap jumps into the deep end of the pool, his legs tucked tightly under him. We both squeeze our eyes shut to avoid the splashing water.

Aiden turns and looks at me. “Hungry?” he asks, successfully changing and rerouting the subject.

I nod, and we exit after securing our towels around our bodies. As we make our way back to our rooms to change, Aiden suggests we head out to sample the local street foods. I can’t imagine anything more fun and gladly agree. The story he began about his mother still lingering in my mind, but I decide to keep the thought distant. If and when Aiden wants to talk about his mom again, I’ll let him bring her up.

I
’VE FOUND ENOUGH PROJECTS TO
keep us busy for weeks. Kenzie doesn’t seem to suspect that it’s me seeking out the photography work, rather than the clients finding out I’m in town. Her naivety on the matter only draws my attention to her more. At first, I wanted to spend more time with her so I could figure out her flaws. Nobody is that kind and empathetic. At least, that’s what I thought, until now.

Our time together has only proven to me that Kenzie Crawford might be the real deal. She might be one of the last few decent people left on this godforsaken planet that is not a total and complete asshole. She makes me wish I wasn’t one.

I glance toward the door where I can hear scuffling on the other side. As I approach it, there’s a knock. “Aiden?”

I can’t help but smile when I hear her voice. Pulling open the door, I stare down at her. I like looking at her. It’s nice in these moments when it’s socially acceptable and not completely creepy. “Yeeesss?” I draw the word out.

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?” she pleads, pressing her hands together.

Waving a hand in her direction, I enjoy the idea of drawing out her suffering a little longer. “I said it was a surprise.”

I turn and walk back into my room, leaving the door open. She follows me. This is another thing I like that’s happened. She’s comfortable around me. So comfortable that she doesn’t give a second thought to enter my room. She feels safe with me. In the loneliness of the night, I do find myself wondering if comfort and safety are in fact a direct path to the friend zone, but then I remind myself that I’m her boss, and therefore I am perpetually stuck in the friend zone, so it doesn’t matter.

“This isn’t fair,” she grumbles, collapsing onto my bed, bouncing a couple of times as she does so. I focus on other things, scurrying over to some equipment I have lining the wall. I’ve thought about her in my bed, many times in fact. But that was again in the safety of my lonely hotel room, where Kenzie Crawford was nowhere near me at the time.