Sins of Aiden

9

CHAPTER 9

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

The outside noise falls to a silent beat at the back of my mind. It drums half the speed of my rising heart, pounding so hard it takes everything in me not to wince.

I openly admitted to myself that I would be fine appearing at the party because Aiden's words were just another attempt to bring my head under the water—like Thomas Ford and Ember Maxwell's number one mission is to be.

I would have assumed he would be like the others. But seeing him before me, so close our feet almost nudging, conveys me to a different believing.

His face is twisting in a vexed scowl, turning additionally irate by the second. His once spotting amber eyes is completely vanished and glen twilight eyes virtually speak to me now, masking nothing but peckish sizzling lava to cover me at once.

"I-I. . ." I'm speechless, can hardly form adequate words to save myself from his charring poison stare. His shoulders grow taut, veins popping from his bulging arms and his whole frame is unbendable from his clenching muscles.

His stare tells me exactly how much he absolutely hates me.

"Mia. . ."

He takes a careful step forward and I waste no second by taking a step back. For whatever his reasoning is of being a mere second away from turning this house into ash, me being here has definitely spiked fuel on his explosive soul.

His hand flies fast in the air between us and catches my wrist in a steel grip before I can comprehend anything else.

My pulse drums with the fallen beat around us.

Every cell in my body cries and my eyes bulge from the sudden pressure. He yanks me with a rigid force into his chest. I fall against him in a humph, and his wooden muscles beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt whack me like metal.

I choke on my gasp, wincing at the pain throbbing in my head.

My hair falls in front of my face and my golden strands wave in the air from my rapid breathing. My ear press on his chest, feeling a steady beat of his pulse, his casting warmth engulfing me—wanting nothing more than to rest against the warmness and listen to his pulse for hours.

But then I remember the sudden situation I'm in—I jerk my head away.

His eyes find mine again—pitch black and vibrating.

I try to catch my breath. "Aiden-"

"I told you not to fucking come," his low tone chills my bones and snaps them into pieces. The humid air is nothing against the hairs rising straight up on my body. I've never seen him like this before—completely blind by a haze of rage.

My heart clenches and anxiety strikes through me like a flash of lightning. He twists his grip on my wrist higher up my arm until it locks and harshly presses it against his chest. I can't escape the tingling harmony passing between us from where we're connected. I'm not sure if I want to either.

It caress like a spring feather touch up to my shoulder and circles my neck. I let it coil my hair, a whirr of unrestricted passion catching my nerve endings to flame. My skin burns with cheeks possibly bright like cherries. Blocks of blood rushes to my ears.