The Wall of Winnipeg and Me (12 page)

I was going to have a panic attack at some point.

I’d known I wasn’t always going to live there—at least I’d better not. But that didn’t change anything. This house wasn’t mine and it didn’t feel like mine. It felt like Aiden’s place. Like the house I’d worked in for years. But I could move in if I needed to, especially if it was the difference between making this hoax of a marriage seem legitimate and not.

I had to. Had to.

“When do you want to do this?” I pretty much croaked.

He didn’t ask me. He just said, “Soon.”

I was going to have a panic attack. “Okay.” All right. Soon could be a month from now. Two months from now.

“Fine?” Aiden raised his eyebrows in what seemed like a challenge.

I nodded dumbly, finding myself becoming more and more in tune with the idea that we were really doing this. I was going to marry him to get his papers fixed. For money. For a lot of money. For financial security.

Aiden stared at me for a while, the bobbing of his throat the only sign that he was thinking. “You’ll do this, then?”

I would be an idiot if I didn’t, wouldn’t I?

That was a dumb question in itself. Of course I would be an idiot, a massive, gigantic idiot who owed a lot of money.

“Yes.” I gulped. “I will.”

For the first time in two years, The Wall of Winnipeg’s face took on an expression that was as close to joyous as I had ever seen. He looked… relieved. More than relieved. I’d swear on my life his eyes lit up. For that one split second, he resembled a completely different person. Then the man who wore a jockstrap on a regular basis did the unthinkable.

He reached forward and put a hand on top of mine, touching me for the first time. His fingers were long and warm, strong, his palm broad and the skin rough, thick. He squeezed. “You won’t regret this.”

I
didn’t call
Aiden and he didn’t call me.

I couldn’t blame the lack of communication on him not having my cell phone number; I’d given it to him before I left his house the day I’d agreed to do what we were doing.

A week passed, and when he hadn’t bothered getting into contact with me, I didn’t think much of it. The Three Hundreds were in the middle of preseason games according to the news. I knew how busy this time of the year was for him.

Plus, there was the small chance that maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe.

Well, I didn’t know why else he wouldn’t call, but I made myself not think about it more than I needed to, which I figured wasn’t much, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stress about it.

The reality that there was a chance he had found some other way of getting his residency petition filed wasn’t as crippling as I would have imagined, considering there was over a hundred thousand dollars riding on our deal. I wouldn’t even say I was disappointed but…

Okay, maybe by the fifth day into the week I might have accepted that I was a little, tiny bit disappointed. Having my loans paid off would have been… well, the more I thought about having that amount of money resting on my shoulders, the more I realized just how repressing it was. It would be one thing if I owed that much money on a house, but in freaking school loans?

If twenty-six-year-old Vanessa could talk to eighteen-year-old Vanessa, I wasn’t sure I would have still gone to such an expensive school. I probably would have gone to community college for my basics then transferred to a state college. My little brother had never made me feel guilty for leaving; he’d been the one to tell me to go. Every once in a while though, I regretted the decision I’d made. But I was a stubborn jackass idiot who wanted what she wanted come hell or high water, and I’d done what I wanted to do at an incredibly high expense.

By the seventh day into our no-communication spree, I was more than halfway through coming to terms with the fact that I would be in debt the next twenty years of my life, and that I’d already assumed that would be the case the instant I’d gotten that first statement in the mail after graduation.

So why cry over it?

I had told him the truth. I didn’t need him or his money.

But I would have taken it because I was an idiot, but I wasn’t that much of an idiot.

I
was
in the middle of uploading a Facebook cover file to DropBox for a client when my phone rang. Peeking over at it sitting on the coffee table behind my work desk, I couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the name appearing on the screen.

Miranda P.

I should probably change the contact information since he technically wasn’t my version of Miranda anymore.

“Hello?”

“Are you home?” the deep voice asked.

“Yes.” I’d barely finished pronouncing the ‘s’ when a now familiar, heavy-handed knock banged on my door. I didn’t have to check my phone to know he’d hung up. A moment later, the peephole confirmed who I thought it would be.

And, yep, it was Aiden.

He barreled inside the instant the deadbolt was turned and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it without a second glance. Those dark eyes pierced me with a look that made me frown and freeze at the same time.

“What is it?”

“
What the hell were you thinking moving here?
” he pretty much growled in a disgusted tone that immediately put me on the defensive.

Sure, I knew my complex was slightly scary, but he didn’t need to make it seem like I lived in a slum. “It’s cheap.”

“You’re kidding,” he muttered.

Where the hell did this smart mouth come from? “Some of my neighbors are nice,” I claimed.

The expression on his face was dubious as he said, “Someone was getting jumped right next to the gate when I pulled in.”

Oh. I waved him inside to change the subject. He didn’t need to know that happened on a weekly basis. I’d called the cops a couple of times, but once I realized they never actually showed up, I stopped bothering. “Do you need something?”

Walking ahead of me toward the living room, he answered over his shoulder, “I’ve been waiting for you to let me know when you’re moving in.”

That had been one of the first things I’d stopped wondering back when I began considering that he might have changed his mind. So hearing it again was like having ice thrown on me. Almost. I didn’t bother telling him I’d thought we weren’t going through with it anymore. “Were you... did you…” I coughed. “Was I supposed to do it soon?”

Turning around to face me, he tipped his chin down before crossing his giant biceps over his chest. “The season is about to start, we need to do it before then.”

I didn’t remember hearing about that being part of the plan. I mean, I figured sooner than later, but…

He was paying off my student loans if I did this. I should have moved in the day after we came to a decision, if that was what he wanted.

“When do you think I should?” I asked.

Of course he had a date in mind. “Friday or Saturday.”

I almost hacked a lung out. “This Friday or Saturday?” That was only five days away.

That big head tipped to the side. “We’re on a time crunch.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “My lease is up in two months.”

Sometimes I forgot Aiden didn’t believe in obstacles. “Pay it off. I’ll give you the cash.”

This was happening. This was really happening. I was moving in. With him.

I eyed him—the wide muscles of his shoulders, the dark hair dusting his jaw, those freaking eyes that seemed to glare at everything and everyone. I was going to be living with this guy.

My loans. My loans, my loans, my loans.

“What day is better for you? Friday or Saturday?” I made myself ask.

“Friday.”

Friday it was. I peered at my belongings for the first time, and felt a pang of sadness.

Just as I was thinking about my things, Aiden seemed to be doing the same thing, glancing around the small living room. I thought he might have lifted a foot to toe my couch. “Do you need help packing… or something?” he asked in an unsure voice, like this was his first time asking someone if they needed help.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

“Umm…” Right after I’d gotten home from his house, I’d decided what I would keep and what I would donate or give away. In conclusion, I assumed it would have to be most of my stuff.

I figured I’d be taking the guest room since it was the only room not being used on a full-time basis. The other three rooms beside the master were Zac’s, the home office, and the huge in-home gym.

“The only things I want to keep are my bookcase, my television, and my desk.” I didn’t miss the judgmental eye he slid toward the small, sixty-dollar black desk behind me. “The rest I’m going to give to my neighbors. There’s no point in keeping any of it in storage for”—I almost gagged on the words—“five years.”

He nodded even as he took in my television. “Everything can fit in a couple of trips.”

I nodded, sadness nipping my throat at the idea of leaving my apartment behind. Sure it wasn’t luxurious or anything, but I’d made it my own. On the other hand, an apartment I hadn’t been planning on staying at forever anyway wasn’t going to be the difference between living in debt and not.

I could cry at Aiden’s later if I needed to… and that thought almost made me crack up out loud. What had my life come to? And why the hell was I complaining so much? I’d be moving into a nicer house, getting my loans off my back, and getting a house, all in return for ‘marrying’ a man. So I couldn’t date anyone if I wanted to. Whoop-de-do. The last date I’d gone on two weeks ago hadn’t exactly left me excited for a repeat. It was a fair exchange, more than a fair exchange if I didn’t calculate the risk of what would happen if someone found out that our ‘marriage’ was a fraud. Then again, you didn’t get anywhere in life unless you took a risk.

“Okay,” I muttered out of the blue, more to myself than Aiden.

Then we just stared at each other, letting that same awkward silence that had been between us as boss and employee come out.

I cleared my throat.

Then he cleared his throat. “I talked to Zac.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Aiden shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “He said he understood.”

In that case, I needed to call him; I didn’t want to be a total coward, and just move in without talking to him about it.

Aiden dipped his chin once before turning his body to face the door. “I need to go. I’ll see you Friday,” he said as he moved toward it.

And then he was gone.

He didn’t tell me to call him if I needed help with anything, and he didn’t say bye. He simply left.

This was what I’d signed up for.

This was the next five years of my life. It could be worse, couldn’t it?

I
t was
seven thirty in the morning, and I was at my dining room table for the last time ever when that now familiar, three-rap knock made my door rattle. I’d just gotten out of bed twenty minutes ago, and I was sitting around waiting for the waffle iron to heat up. Hell, I still had my pajamas on, hadn’t washed my face, or even brushed my teeth yet. My hair was up in something that looked like a baby pineapple.

“Aiden?” I called out as I dragged my feet toward the door.

Sure enough, his dark facial hair greeted me through the peephole before I let him in with a yawn and a small frown.

The man who was apparently going to be my new roommate, amongst other things, strolled in, not muttering a good morning or anything. Instead, he waited until I locked the door before giving me a lazy look. “You aren’t dressed yet?”

I had to stifle another yawn, covering my mouth with my hand. “It’s seven thirty. What are you doing here?”

“Helping you move,” he said, like I was asking a dumb question.

“Oh.” He was? He’d said something about it only taking a few trips to move my things, but I’d assumed it would take
me
a few trips. Huh. “Okay. I was just about to make waffles… do you want some?”

Aiden eyed me for a moment before turning around and continuing on to the kitchen. His head turned from left to right in what I assumed was him either making sure that I had actually gotten some packing done, or taking inventory of what I had left to go. I’d bubble-wrapped all my artwork two days ago. My clothes were all in boxes the people at the grocery store were nice enough to let me have. My books and knickknacks were packed. My television and desktop computer were the only items that hadn’t been prepped, but I had almost every blanket and comforter I owned in the living room waiting to get put to good use.

“Which recipe?” he had the nerve to inquire.

“The cinnamon one.” Before he could ask, I added, “I’m not using eggs.”

He nodded and took a seat at the table, still not exactly subtle in his perusal. All my dishes, utensils, and pots were already out and stacked on the countertops, waiting for their new owners to come and take them. I’d been lugging them around since college, and I figured they’d gone above and beyond the call of duty.

I made more batter and then poured it into the hot waffle iron, keeping an eye on Aiden as he kept taking in my belongings. “What are you doing with the rest of your furniture?”

“My neighbor upstairs is taking the mattress, dining room table, and the dishes.” She was a single mom with five kids. I’d seen her mattress during the few occasions I’d babysat, and my things were definitely an improvement. The dining room table was also a nice addition to the empty space she had where one would have normally sat, even though there weren’t enough chairs for her and all the kids. “My next-door neighbor is taking the couch, the bed frame, dresser, and coffee table for his daughter.”

“They’re coming to get it today?”

“Yep, but my neighbor upstairs is a single mom, and I want to help her.”

“Did you pay the rest of your lease off already?”

I glanced at him from the other side of the kitchen. “Not yet. I was going to go to the business office before I leave.”

“How much do you owe?”

I might have muttered the amount.

There was a pregnant pause before Aiden asked, “For a month?”

I coughed. “No, that’s two months.”

Was he breathing louder than normal? “Did I really pay you that little?”

Again with a comment about my place. “No.” I fought the urge to scowl. I had other things to spend my money on. I didn’t need to explain myself to him.

Did he roll his eyes? “I brought enough cash.”

Was I supposed to say ‘
No, don’t worry about it. I have it?’
or was it okay for me to accept it? Ideally, he was already doing more than enough for me for the next five years when I really didn’t have to do much more than sign some paperwork, and make sure I didn’t fall in love with someone…

Okay, that was guilt sweeping along the lining of my stomach, and I knew what it meant. “Don’t worry about it. I can pay for it.” I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, or whatever it could be called.

Aiden just shrugged.

A few minutes later, the waffles were ready and we ate in silence at the table, both of us eating efficiently and quickly. I washed off our dishes and dried them, leaving them on the stack with the others.

“Let’s get the things your neighbors are taking out of here first, then pack up the cars,” Aiden suggested, his fingers dipping into the front of his shirt to pluck at the medallion hanging around his neck. He moved it so that it lay against the back of his neck, the chain it was on tight around the front of his throat. I’d always wondered where he’d got it from—especially since as far as I knew, he wasn’t a religious person—but it was another one of those things he’d never bothered sharing.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said, eyeing the hint of gold one more time. Oh well.

Once on the floor above mine, the single mother opened the door on the second knock, accepting the box of glasses I’d carried up the stairs. “You’re leaving now?” she asked me in Spanish.