The next morning, when my eyes fluttered open, I was startled to find Aiden standing over my bed with an unreadable expression on his face. His figure was silhouetted against the light streaming in from my window, making it difficult to make out the details of his features.
“Aiden?” I asked, my voice groggy and confused as I sat up, trying to make sense of why he was in my room. My brain felt foggy, still swimming in the remnants of last night’s drinks, and coherent thoughts seemed far out of reach.
“I couldn’t sleep all night, Tiny. You’ve been running circles in my head,” he said softly, his voice carrying a strange mix of exasperation and something else I couldn’t quite name. My brows furrowed, and I shot him a questioning look.
“What?” I asked, utterly taken aback by his words.
Bef
