Bitterness trickled through him. “You just want me to get along with her so you can get her into bed.”
Aidan responded with a harsh laugh. “Right, like you don’t want the same damn thing. You’ve been sporting a semi since the second she got here. You undress her with your eyes whenever she’s in the room. Oh, and you kissed her—thanks for mentioning that to me, by the way.”
“She kissed me,” he grumbled. “And I didn’t mention it because it wasn’t a big deal, nor was it ever going to happen again.”
“Can you at least admit that you want her?”
“Christ. Fine. I want her. You happy now? But guess what, man, I want a lot of things. Wanting something doesn’t automatically mean it’s a good idea to go out and get it. So yeah, I think she’s hot, and yeah, she gets me hard, but I’m not going to act on it.” He let out a frustrated breath. “If you want to sleep with her, go ahead. You have my blessing, okay? But me, I have no intention of ever sleeping with the woman, so for f**k’s sake, leave me out of it.”
Aidan didn’t know whether to curse or laugh as he left Dylan in the living room to cool off. Last time he’d seen Dylan this worked up over being attracted to someone, it had been toward Aidan himself. Dylan had been so freaked out about desiring a man out of the context of a threesome, and it had taken him a while to realize that sometimes you couldn’t help who you felt an attraction for.
And now Dylan was fighting the way he felt about Claire. A blind person could see how much he wanted the woman, and Aidan didn’t blame him one damn bit. He’d known Claire for only two days and he could honestly say he’d never been more drawn to a woman.
Not only that, but he found her presence strangely soothing. He was still reeling over the fact that he’d told her and Dylan about his mother’s death—that was something he never spoke of, yet when Claire had asked about his parents, the confession had slipped out without warning. And afterwards, he hadn’t felt exposed or embarrassed, the way he usually did when he revealed personal details about himself.
Why did he feel so comfortable opening up to Claire when he’d been denying Dylan the same privilege for months now? He had no answer for that, but there was one thing he did know—he didn’t want Claire to go yet.
Which was why he wasted no time in heading for Dylan’s bedroom so he could hopefully convince one very pissed-off redhead not to skip town.
He rapped his knuckles on the door. “Claire, it’s Aidan. Can I come in?”
A gloomy “Sure” came from the other side of the door.
He stepped into the bedroom and found her on the bed with her MacBook in her lap. Her striped shirt had fallen off one shoulder, revealing smooth lily-white skin and making his fingers tingle with the urge to stroke all that softness.
“Did you book a flight yet?” he asked.
“No.” She met his eyes. “You here to talk me out of it?”
“Yes.”
Irritation flashed on her face. “Don’t bother. I’m not staying.”
He smiled. “We both know you don’t want to go, sweetheart.”
“Oh, really? Now you’re an expert on what I want?”
Ignoring her squeaky protest, Aidan swiped the computer from her lap and walked over to set it on the dresser. He strode back to the bed and sat beside her. There was a foot of space between them, but he could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell her addictive lavender scent and see her pulse throbbing in her throat.
“I know you don’t want to be in San Francisco right now,” he said with a shrug. “Your parents will drive you nuts by fussing over you, you’ll be sleeping in the apartment you shared with Chris—who at the moment is enjoying your honeymoon without you. And you’ve got three weeks off, so you’re just going to sit around bored and stuck in your own head.”
Claire scowled at him. “At least that’s better than being accused of inviting a sexual assault.”
“He didn’t mean that and you know it. Dylan’s just in a shitty mood and he decided to take it out on you.”
“And that makes it right?” she challenged.
“Not at all. Look, I’m not going to make excuses for him or apologize on his behalf, but you need to know that you’re wrong about him.” Aidan’s heart squeezed. “He’s a good guy, Claire. And he cares about people, sometimes a helluva lot more than he should. For some reason, you just rub him the wrong way.”
“Well, the feeling is mutual.”
“What about me?” he asked impulsively.
Her forehead creased. “What do you mean?”
“Do I rub you the wrong way?”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Of course not.”
Smiling again, he angled his body so they were face-to-face instead of side by side. “You’ve enjoyed hanging out with me today, right?”
That appealing blush rose in her cheeks. “Yes. I’ve had fun.”
“Then keep having fun with me. Stay.”
Claire bit her plump bottom lip, and for a second he experienced a pang of envy that Dylan had had the pleasure of feeling those sexy lips pressed against his. Shit, he wanted this woman bad. Like trembling-hands-and-dry-mouth kind of bad.
“So what, I stick around for a few more days and just hang out with you? Don’t you have to work?” She paused. “Come to think of it, I don’t even know what you do. Are you in the navy too?”