His to Cherish by Stacey Lynn

trying to choke down the humiliation coursing through my blood, heating my skin in the worst way possible.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his truck move. He pulled into his garage, and the loud double garage door began descending as soon as his truck disappeared.
    The garage door crashed to the cement ground. My feet vibrated from the heavy thud and then there was silence.
    No footsteps inside.
    No click of a front door unlocking.
    No voice welcoming me in and thanking me for bringing him dinner.
    Before he could see the tears that rose unbidden to the backs of my eyes, I moved.
    I turned around, slid the pizza box onto Aidan’s front porch, careful not to look if I could see him inside his house.
    And I got the hell out of there.
    —
    My own sense of stupidity mixed with foolish hopefulness prevented me from sleeping most of the weekend.
    During the middle of the night, unable to sleep, I kept envisioning that glare I couldn’t see, that cheek jump I saw clearly, and the silence that followed. It made me realize I had a problem.
    And it was a big problem.
    Somehow during our visits, I’d become a typical woman. I’d convinced myself that our time together meant something to Aidan.
    That I had begun to mean something to him.
    In reality, I was just a place to go where he could escape the quiet of his house.
    I came with no expectations.
    I was a one-night stand without the sex. I just lasted longer than a night.
    Last night, I realized I didn’t want to be that anymore.
    I couldn’t be that anymore.
    I’d had a crush on Aidan Devereaux for two years, since I saw him walk into our middle school just before Derrick started sixth grade and it was class registration night. The library was filled with tables, teachers sitting behind them, and the students lined up on the other side, creating their own schedules with their parents signing off on each class they registered for.
    It was cool the way our school did it. Giving students the responsibility of picking their own classes and teachers. They felt grown up; they were beginning to make their own choices, and the parents were there to help guide them and accept their choices, or help them make better ones.
    I remembered that day clearly because I was standing in front of my desk in the library, watching the madness unfold in front of me. I was also helping at the coffee and dessert table.
    At one point, Aidan Devereaux sauntered up next to me. He stood, surveying the crowd with me, his arms crossed over his chest.
    He smelled delicious. I remembered it because it tickled my nose.
    He looked at me, and his eyes moved slowly down my body in a gesture I felt everywhere, even though I chalked that up to the fact that Cory had walked out on me weeks before. I was in a low spot, but one slow perusal of Aidan’s green eyes had me fighting back a grin.
    My hand had gone to the table to steady myself.
    His lips had twitched into a half smile.
    Then he said, “Busy year ahead.”
    I had nodded. “Yup. Sure is.”
    Then he turned to me, brushing a hand through his black hair, and in the sexiest voice I had ever heard in my life, he whispered, “You ready for this?”
    I assumed he meant the school year, although his tone implied something much different. But I was too messed up from Cory walking away, the reality that I’d never be able to have kids leaving a gaping hole in my heart that I knew would take forever—or at least years—to close, and I didn’t catch it.
    Looking back, I could now see that he’d definitely implied what I thought he had.
    He wanted me. He was at least attracted to me two years ago. He’d made the effort, flirted, and scanned my body with lust in his eyes.
    And he’d done it since then. He would give me a look, a certain smile, and even a flirtatious conversation occasionally—not often, but it happened—when all of our friends were hanging out together either at Fireside or at Declan’s or Tyson’s house. Those things…I hadn’t