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always make him cringe.
    “No, sir. I don’t think that at all.” Being polite to the bastard never did anything. Yet Aidan had still tried. Over and over.
    “Because you put your bag on the floor like you’re too good to pick it up yourself.”
    “I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” He moved to pick it up, but his father blocked him.
    “You want the backpack back? Get past me.” His father shoved him backward. “Get around me, you coward. What’s the matter? Are you going to cry? Can’t act like a man? Take the bag from me, cry baby.”
    His father stood two inches taller than him with at least one hundred more pounds of fat and muscle. He hadn’t shed a tear, not in years. It didn’t matter. His dad’s fist slammed into his stomach.
    “You always hit me where no one would see it.”
    The second blow took him to the ground.
    Aidan’s eyes flew open. He looked around the room, unsure of exactly where he was. The sunlight flew in through the window, and Stacey sighed next to him. Right. He’d spent the night in Stacey’s bed. They’d had incredible sex. His mother waited for him in the hospital. Her first full day of recovery would be a rough one.
    There was no time for his memories to start pestering him. He wasn’t in denial. He knew exactly what had happened. All of it.

 
     
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    Stacey smiled at him from across the table. Valentine’s Day. Probably the last time he’d celebrated the particular event had been with her. Stacey’s family did holidays, while his had sort of presented themselves as celebrating for the neighbors to witness. This year, however, his mother wasn’t up for any kind of party at all. She’d waddled around the whole outside of the house that morning, a big feat for a post-heart-surgery patient.
    Aidan had told her how proud of her he was. She’d teared up. He’d never been so grateful for a date in his life. The capable hands of the nurse would care for her until he got home. Hopefully in the morning.
    Eight nights of sleeping in Stacey’s bed had become addictive. As had the woman herself.
    “What are you thinking?”
    Shit. She’d been talking to him, and he’d been daydreaming. What had she asked him?
    Stacey held up the menu. “To eat, Red. What are you thinking you’d like to eat?”
    He laughed. She’d seen right through him. “Shrimp to start. Steak to finish.”
    “I’m going to have a salad to start. Have to watch my girlish figure. And then the blackened red fish.”
    “Ooh.” Aidan smiled leaning back in his seat. “Blackened? Living on the edge tonight?”
    “I am.” Stacey could brighten up the universe when she grinned. He felt like a million dollars when he could be the reason she smiled. “Of course, I might regret it for the rest of the night. A trip to the ER might occur.”
    “Nah. You’ll spend it with a licensed trauma surgeon. I can revive you if all goes astray.”
    “Why, Doctor. You do say the most romantic things.” She laughed, and then the waiter approached to take their order.
    He took a sip of his wine. She looked so…perfect in her black dress. Although he would have preferred her showing more cleavage, it didn’t bother him she covered up a bit with a shawl. Other men didn’t get to look at what was his. He stuttered at the thought. Stacey wasn’t really his, couldn’t be. He’d be leaving in fourteen days.
    “You know.” He spoke if for no other reason than to make his mind focus on something else. “When I first left here, everything tasted so bland. I didn’t realize the rest of the world didn’t eat the way we did.”
    “We do like to spice our food.” She sipped her red wine. He watched as her lips caressed the glass. “So why did you?”
    “What?” He’d lost the conversation again. Every move the woman made turned him into a raving idiot.
    “Why did you leave, Aidan?” She set her glass down with a clink. “I mean, I know I’m not supposed to ask, right? We’re keeping