Fit for Love (A Stand By Me Novel Book 3) by Brinda Berry Page A

seems to have plague-like symptoms and he’s waiting in line like the rest of us.
    Surprisingly, Ryder insists on staying in my lap since Makenna can’t hold him and fill out the necessary paperwork at the same time. I like the trusting feel of his head against my chest. His hair is soft and tickles my chin. He presses his ear to me like he’s listening to my heartbeat.
    He’s a thin kid. Small, breakable looking arms and legs. He seems so fragile. I take a steadying breath and pat his back.
    I fully expect him to realize any minute that I’m the guy he doesn’t like. Makenna frowns at her phone screen.
    “Everything OK?” I ask.
    “It’s Jared. I told him not to come. He’s here.”
    As if on cue, the automatic doors slide open and a guy enters. He’s flanked by two muscle-bound friends who walk toward us. His face reddens when he sees me.
    He points at me but looks at Makenna and makes no effort to keep his voice low. “Who is he?”
    Me or Ryder? I only question it for a moment. He and I make eye contact. What the hell?
    “Jared,” Makenna says. “This is Aiden. Calm down. We’re waiting to get Ryder in to see someone.”
    “I’m Jared Jameston,” the guy says. “Ryder’s dad.”
    “Aiden Alesini.” I nod my chin at him. The guys—who must be bodyguards—wander off as if to give us all some privacy.
    Jared Jameston. Huh. Everyone knows this guy’s name. Although I’m not really a fan since I don’t follow country music, I do know who he is. He’s even set to perform the Super Bowl half-time this year.
    The nurses at the front desk look at Jared. One whispers to her co-workers and I wonder if they recognize him.
    I remain calm. “He’s probably fine, but we wanted to check—”
    Makenna shoots out of her chair. The metal chair legs scrape against the linoleum. “I told you not to come. Ryder is fine.” Her voice shakes and I sense she’s about to lose her temper.
    I reach out and touch her arm. “Makenna.”
    “She’s Mak,” he says in correction.
    My gaze swings up to him. Asshole. I stare at him. I’m not about to get into a pissing contest in the emergency room.
    “That’s my son,” he says with raised eyebrows. “I want to know what happened and if your boyfriend is responsible.”
    I turn to Makenna. “Do you want me to go outside and talk to him about what happened before they throw us out?” I may have to kick his ass for accusing me, but I can do that out in the parking lot.
    She glares at him. “You need to leave.”
    Ryder sits quietly with his head against my chest. His eyes are wide as his gaze darts from his mother to Jared and back.
    Jared looks at me instead of Makenna. “No. I’m not leaving Ryder.”
    This isn’t fair to the little boy in my arms. He shouldn’t have to hear an argument that is more about his mother dating than about him getting hurt. I stand and Ryder clings a little tighter to my body, like a small monkey not phased that I’m moving around. “Makenna,” I say and turn to hand him to her.
    The kid squeezes my neck. “No,” he says.
    I see him as Jared must. Blood crusted on his face in spots missed by the washcloth. Blood-matted hair standing straight up from his forehead like it’s been gelled for a funky hairstyle.
    He looks like he’s been brutally attacked.
    I pat him on the back. “It’s fine. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait with you.”
    There’s a room full of waiting patients who stare at us like we’re their reality TV. Jared looks around at them. “I’ll wait, too.” Then he finds a seat at the opposite end of the waiting room and sits with his arms folded over his chest. His bodyguards walk outside. I sense Jared’s gaze on me but ignore it.
    I expect Ryder to balk and want his father. But he doesn’t.
    Instead, Ryder tucks his head under my chin and says, “Horse? Where’s horse?”
    It’s almost like he says it to himself or only for my ears. “Soon,” I say, and sit back down. “We’ll go back. I