Chapter 840

Lana had hung up on purpose; Keira could tell. She was probably worried Keira would keep talking and make things awkward between her and Aaron.

Aaron walked in, a glass of milk in his hand. His frame cast a long shadow as he moved, every detail of him so impeccably proportioned that even his shadow looked like it belonged to someone out of a painting.

Lena straightened immediately, setting down her phone and greeting him in her most polite tone, “Uncle Aaron,”

“Drink this,” Aaron said, offering her the milk. His long fingers wrapped around the glass with ease, the cuffs of his shirt rolled up just enough to show his toned forearms. Veins traced faint patterns along his skin.

Her mind flashed to the moment he’d saved her from Wayne. When the hideout had been surrounded, Wayne had tried to use her as a human shield. But Hayden had acted fast, shoving Lena out of Wayne’s grasp. She had been seconds from hitting the ground when Aaron appeared out of nowhere, catching her like some action hero dropping from the sky.

In that instant, she felt a sense of security unlike anything she’d ever known, like nothing could touch her while she was in his arms.

“Something wrong?” Aaron raised an eyebrow when Lena didn’t take the glass. He moved it a little closer to her.

She snapped back to reality, quickly grabbing the milk. Her fingers brushed his, and a small, inexplicable jolt shot through her. “Thanks.”

Aaron glanced at her phone on the table. “It’s late in Kehlmark. Whatever you’re dealing with, it can wait until tomorrow. Drink this and get some rest.”

“I will.” Lena sounded obedient.

Satisfied, Aaron turned to leave. But before he reached the stairs, Lena called after him. “When are we heading back?”

“In a couple of days,” he said, pausing briefly. “Why? In a rush to leave?”

“Yeah,” Lena said quickly, finding an excuse. “I’ve been away from the hospital too long. It’s not good for me to be gone this much.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said before ascending the stairs.

As he climbed, Lena’s eyes drifted—completely on their own—to the way his tailored pants hugged his figure. Seriously, who even had a backside that looked that good?

She immediately scolded herself for the thought. ‘Get it together, Lena.’

But as if sensing her gaze, Aaron turned to glance back at her. Startled, she ducked her head, pretending to focus on her milk.

In her rush to seem casual, she fumbled and spilled some on the plush blanket draped over her lap. She quickly set the glass down, grabbing a tissue to clean up the mess.

Aaron paused mid-step, watching her flustered movements with a faint smile. She wasn’t the composed, no-nonsense OB-GYN everyone at the hospital knew. Here, she was just Lena—clumsy, a little stubborn, and still trying to figure herself out.

By the time she finished cleaning up, Aaron had disappeared into his room. Not wanting to waste the milk, Lena finished it, then grabbed her phone and retreated to her own room.

Lena saw a message from me waiting: [Aaron’s the one who blocked the signal, isn’t he?] Lena smirked, quickly replying: [Go to sleep. If Hayden’s there and you still have energy to text me, maybe he’s the one underperforming.]

I was waiting for her response, phone in hand. When her reply came through, Hayden—lying next to me—glanced over, catching a glimpse of the text. He looked at me, and I immediately turned my back to him, and typed a quick reply: [Don’t deflect. Why did you hang up?]

Lena’s reply came quickly: [No signal.]

I rolled my eyes and sent her a dramatic “yeah, sure” meme. She shot back: [It’s late. Pregnant women need their beauty sleep.]

Before I could reply, Hayden took my phone out of my hands. “Even your doctor says to rest,” he said.

He walked around to my side of the bed, set my phone on the nightstand, and leaned over me. My heart started pounding. Was he about to prove that he wasn’t ‘underperforming’?

Given my condition, though, that wasn’t exactly an option. My thoughts spiraled. If he did try something, how was I supposed to shut it down without making it weird?

But instead of anything risqué, his lips pressed gently to my forehead. “Sleep,” he murmured.

Then he lay down, pulling me into his arms like I was something precious,

“Silly girl,” he whispered.

Huh?

Chapter 840

I glared at him. “Who are you calling silly?”

$37.