Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“My parents—they insisted.” Christ, Aiden had never felt so tongue-tied. He didn’t know what to say, acutely aware of his bodyguards listening to their every word. “Let’s—let’s walk?”
Zain gave a clipped nod.
They walked at an unhurried pace, both of them looking straight ahead, their shoulders six inches apart.
It was fucking torture, to have him so close but not be able to touch.
“How long—how long are you going to be in the US?” Aiden said as they walked deeper into the park.
Zain’s hand seemed to twitch toward him. He put it back into his pocket. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Oh.
His limbs suddenly weak and heavy, Aiden sat down on the nearest bench.
After a moment, Zain took a seat beside him, their knees a few inches apart.
Aiden stared at his own hands, inhaling shakily.
Silence stretched.
In his peripheral vision, his bodyguards shifted slightly.
Lifting his head, Aiden glared at them. “Can you give us a little privacy? You don’t need to listen to us to bodyguard me.”
The men exchanged a look and retreated about ten steps away. It wasn’t much, but at least now they couldn’t hear everything Aiden said.
Not that Aiden had any clue what to say. There was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t. So much he wanted to say but shouldn’t.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”
His shoulders tensing up, Aiden said, “Why not?”
He expected Zain to say that he wasn’t gay. He expected Zain to deny having any attachment to him. He expected the usual “no icky emotions” bullshit Zain tended to pull when the strength of his feelings made him uncomfortable.
But he’d never imagined what Zain said next.
“I’m married.”
Aiden felt like he’d been punched in the solar plexus.
“What?” he croaked out, whipping his head to Zain.
Zain didn’t turn his head, his profile stony. “I had no choice after Gadiel ran away with his bodyguard. Al Sharabi would have had him killed for such a public humiliation.”
Aiden tried to process it, but he couldn’t seem to think beyond the fact that Zain was… He was… “You—you married your brother’s bride?”
“Yes,” Zain said tonelessly. “It was the logical thing to do. I’m a bigger prize than Gadiel. Al Sharabi is happy. My father is happy—he got what he originally wanted. My irresponsible fuck-up of a brother is no doubt happy too. Everyone wins.”
It felt like there was something hard and painful lodged in his throat.
“What about u—you?” Aiden managed. “It’s not like you to be selfless.”
Zain finally turned his head to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t an entirely selfless decision,” he said, something tight about his expression. “It was self-preservation too.”
Aiden looked at him searchingly, not understanding—until he did.
“Oh,” he said in a small voice, his vision going blurry. Zain had agreed to the marriage to escape him. It didn’t matter why he’d done it: whether Zain was running from his “unnatural,” inconvenient feelings or whether he didn’t trust himself to stay away from Aiden despite Damiano’s threats. It didn’t matter why; the end result was the same.
Zain didn’t want him enough.
He didn’t want him.
Zain’s expression became pinched. “Stop that,” he said roughly, clasping his hands together. “Don’t. Don’t cry, damn you.”
“I’m not crying,” Aiden said, wiping his eyes. “That would be stupid. What I feel for you isn’t real.”
Zain’s jaw locked. “Exactly. You’re young and confused. You’ll forget me within a few months.”
“Yeah,” Aiden said, forcing a shaky smile. “I will. Consider yourself forgotten. Bye.” Why was his vision only getting blurrier, damn it? His face felt wet. “Go away!” Aiden croaked out, pulling his knees to his chest and turning his face away. “Go. Please, Zain.” God, why did this hurt so much if his feelings weren’t real? If it was just stupid Stockholm syndrome?
“Aiden—” Zain said tightly. “Habibi—”
And then there were arms around him, tugging him against a firm, familiar chest, and Zain was kissing all over his face, whispering something in Arabic, and Aiden was clinging to him with all his strength, his senses going into overdrive. God, he missed him, he missed him so fucking much—
“Let go of my son!” They were yanked apart forcefully, and it took Aiden a moment to process what was going on through his tear-filled eyes.
There was his father, glaring at Zain, his face red with rage. There was his mother, holding Aiden tightly as if she was afraid that he’d be stolen away. There were the two burly bodyguards holding Zain back. There was Zain, his face stony and his eyes hard as he held Aiden’s father’s gaze.
“I don’t care what my son says,” his father spat out. “We all know what you did to him. We all know you brainwashed him and held him against his will. We don’t even need him to testify against you to press charges!” His eyes hardened. “We don’t even need to win in court, Mr. Rahim. Even the accusation of sodomy will be enough to destroy you—”