The wind carried the scent of freshly mowed grass and wet concrete, but none of that registered with Aiden as he stepped out of his sleek, black car and closed the door with a dull thud.
His hand lingered on the car door handle for a second too long, his fingers tightening reflexively.
Ethan.
The name echoed in his mind.
It wasn’t the name itself that unsettled him—it was the way it had appeared. Innocently. Casually.
On Lena’s phone.
At 3:42 a.m.
He hadn’t meant to look. He never did. But last night, when she left her phone in his car, her phone had buzzed. Just once.
Aiden wasn’t a jealous man by nature, but curiosity had gotten the better of him, and his eyes had drifted down.
What was Lena doing texting Ethan? And at that hour?
Now, standing in the parking lot in front of Le
