Desired by All and He Threw Away 43

And I know it’s true. 

Aiden stood up for me. Publicly. 

The thought knocks the breath out of me. Gratitude hits first, warm and unexpected. Then confusion follows right after. Why would he risk that? He hates attention. He knows how this place feeds on drama. 

Why defend me like that? 

the question sits heavy in my chest the rest of the day. i replay it in my head- the stillness of the room the sound of his voice cutting through it the weight in his words. 

its past four when i check my phone between clients.A message from him flashes on the screen: 

Session today, 5:00. Massage Room Two. 

Short. Professional. Typical Aiden. 

But somehow, it feels loaded. 

i read it twice.my pulse quickens and i hate that it does.theres something beneath those words i cant quite name – something steady deliberate. 

the hallways at camp always feel too bright this time of day.the scent of disinfectant mixes with eucalyptus oil and sweat.a few athletes pass by shoulders damp laughing softly unaware of the tension that hums just beneath the surface of this place. 

Every step toward the massage room feels watched. Not imagined—watched. Conversations hush when I pass.a few people glance away too quickly pretending to look busy.the rumor hasnt died not completely. It’s just changed shape. 

Vanessa stands by the reception desk when i turn the corner flipping through a file shes not really reading.her lips twitch when she sees me. 

“Taylor,” she says sweetly. “Rough week?” 

i pause just long enough to meet her eyes.there is no mask this time–only bitterness sharp and naked. 

“i have had worse,” i say quietly, and keep walking. 

her perfume follows me down the hall all roses and venom. 

my 

hand hesitates on the door handle to the massage room.the metal is cool under my fingers grounding.behind that door waits Aiden- my boss my fake boyfriend the man who just silenced a room for me. 

gratitude confusion and curiosity- all of it coils inside me like a knot. 

i take a slow breath trying to steady it. 

then i push the door open. 

the room smells faintly of mint oil and linen.the lights are dim while the sunlight slanting through the blinds in 

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Chapter 43 

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narrow strips that paint the floor in pale gold.Aiden stands near the table hands in his pockets his expression unreadable. 

for a heartbeat, neither of us speaks. 

“hi,” i say finally, and my voice sounds smaller than i mean it to. 

he nods once. “You came.” 

“Well you told me to.” 

the silence stretches taut and fragile.the air feels heavier than it should thick with everything unspoken- the thank you i havent said the questions i dont know how to ask. 

he studies me for a moment then looks away his jaw tightening slightly. ” you shouldnt have had to deal with that,” he says voice low. “Any of it.” 

something in his tone makes my chest tighten. It’s not pity. It’s something rougher. Protective. 

“im fine,” i say but the words feel like armor more than the truth. 

he gives a quiet laugh no humor in it. “You shouldn’t have to be fine, Taylor.” 

for a second i dont know what to say.the room hums softly with the sound of air conditioning and the distant rhythm of footsteps outside. 

he gestures toward the table. “you can start when youre ready.” 

there nothing in his voice but professionalism yet i can feel the tension threading between us something unspoken pressing at the edges of it. 

i move closer setting my things down.The scent of mint grows stronger. His presence fills the space–steady, calm, but charged. 

I shouldn’t feel this aware of him. Not after everything. Not after how messy this place has become. Control yourself Taylor don’t overthink it. 

But now Victory feels strange when it comes wrapped in tension. 

And I go to close the door it shuts softly behind me, I cant tell if Im walking into gratitude- or trouble. 

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