As I jog to The Dunwells singing in my ears about love and communication, a movement in my periphery has me glance sideways. A lean brunette jogging by sends me a runners’camaraderie grin and a nod. I reciprocate with a quick smile. As I continue my run, pushing myself a little harder, I notice her matching my pace, running beside me. She pulls out one of her EarPods, keeping our synched rhythm. I do the same, tilting my head in question.
“You live around here?” she asks through labored breath.
Not giving too much thought to her question, I nod, throwing my thumb back. “Up the hill.”
“Oh, in the big mansion?” she asks, still lightly smiling.
“Yeah,” I return absentmindedly. Friendly people in this neighborhood.
“What’s your name?” she asks next.
“Ivi.”
She slows her run to face me. I do the same, a bit puzzled by her overly friendly ways.
“Ivi.” She sends me a sweet smile that in a blink of an eye turns fairly malicious. And before I know it, her rounded fist lands smack-dab on my left eye. “Tyler belongs to Brooklyn, you little bitch.” And before I’m able to comprehend the last few seconds she sprints away.
My hand flies to my throbbing eye as I watch her disappear around the corner. Gape-mouthed, I stay frozen in my place for some long shocking moments. The pain radiating from my upper cheekbone and the idea that someone assaulted me leave me utterly flabbergasted. Confused, somewhat humiliated and harboring a smarting pain, I turn back. I jog lightly, tilting my head sideways as I reach the main gate. Oscar raises his hand. Teasing, he asks me if I’m out of shape. Making sure to conceal my injured eye, I fabricate a smile and give him a lame excuse about preferring the air-conditioned gym.
I’m too startled to comprehend that I just entered the house from the main door, realizing I’m at the living room’s threshold a second too late. The last thing I want right now is to have everyone’s attention on me. Ducking my face, I rapidly walk by the guys, throwing a quick “hi,” hoping that my state wasn’t transpired through the short word.
“Ivi?” It’s Tyler’s voice that stops me from taking the last few steps out of the room.
“Mmm,” I answer with my back to the group.
“All okay?” There’s a touch of concern to Tyler’s question.
I nod. The cadence of Tyler’s voice is a trigger for my eyes to fill up with a misty screen. “Yeah,” floats out of my mouth. “I’m ok — ay.” My last word comes out broken as I feel Tyler’s hands clutch around my shoulders.
“Kiisu?” Tyler says softly only for me to hear, gently turning me to look at him. Noticing my shinning eyes, he stoops to align our stares and it’s then that he notices the pink, puffed skin around my eye. Concern hardens his features, it must look just like it feels. “What happened?” he gently touches my skin, I flinch at the contact. “Who did this to you?”
And that’s as long as I can hold it all in. My lips quiver with the first tear that rolls out of my eye. Tyler’s arm bounds around me, holding me tight to his chest. With an accelerating heartbeat, Tyler says in a voice that carries no pleasantry, “Everyone out.”
“She okay?” comes a response from the group. “Mary P. what’s wrong?” It’s Max this time.
I feel Tyler looking at them over his shoulder. “Show’s over. Eli, I swear, get everyone the fuck out of here. Now!”
An immediate hustle of hushed voices and foot shuffling comes next. Someone clears his voice, “Tyler, what’s going on?” It’s Eli.
“Let’s sit down. Come, Kiis,” Arms secured around me, Tyler leads me to take a seat on the sofa.
I lift my face, to a certain degree embarrassed and very much confused, to look at Tyler and then turn to Eli. Eli’s brows furrow, his jaw sets in a tense line.
“Tell us what happened,” Tyler’s comforting embrace and soft voice cajoles.
I cover my face with both hands and huff, dropping my hands to my thighs, I shrug. “I’m not sure.” Both men regard me intently. “I went for a run and this woman appeared out of nowhere and joined me.”
Tyler’s eyes run over my face. Eli nods.
“Adina, can you bring us an icepack, please?” Tyler calls out, his fingers caressing down my arms. “Sorry, go on,” he says to me.
“She seemed friendly and asked where I lived. Then she asked for my name and before I knew it, she confronted me about . . .” I turn to look at Tyler. “You belonging to Brooklyn and that I should stay away.”
Anger washes over Tyler’s face like a wild wave of fire. He throws Eli a look, which Eli counters with some sort of agreement. Tyler’s hand comes up to cover his mouth, his muscle distinctively sawing under his jaw. “Get Ben,” he utters curtly.
“Here’s the icepack,” Adina enters the room. When she sees me, her eyes round, “what happened to you?”
I shake my head, opting to communicate: nothing serious. I attempt to send her a thin smile.
Tyler extends his hand for the icepack. He nods at Adina, and turns to me, gently pressing the cold package against my smarting, sensitive skin. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his eyes trailing over my face.
I nod. “It burns.” I reach my hand to take the icepack from him, but he doesn’t let go.
Adina and Eli watch us as Tyler regards me pensively. He turns to Eli, “We’ll be in my room. Cancel whatever we had for today.”
“Tyler, there’s no need for that — ” I try to interject.
Tyler just shakes his head at me. “Get Ben to have someone assigned to Ivi today!”
“Of course,” Eli affirms.
Wordlessly, Tyler stands, offering me his hand. When I’m on my feet, he secures my hand in his. “There’s this rental contract Ivi signed, have that cancelled. Sort it out, if needed, compensate them for breaching the contract at the last minute.”
“Sure thing. Anything else?” Eli responds.
“No.”
“Tyler, should I bring anything up?” Adina asks as Tyler starts walking us toward the stairs.
At this point I just rest my head on his shoulder, letting him take care of me.
“Kiisu? Some cold water maybe.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
“I’m sorry you went through this because of me,” Tyler says as he runs a foamy sponge down my arm, cradling me to his chest in the warm, comforting bath.
“It’s not your fault, you can’t really control crazy people.” I turn a little to kiss his prickled jaw. “Well, apparently I’ve sinned the greatest sin of all, I fell for their God,” I say in a scornful tone.
I can feel Tyler cringe behind me. “I’m no one’s anything. I’m Jeremy’s dad. And I’m your . . . yours.”
I turn to face him, splashing some water and bubbles over the rim of the bath as I straddle him. I give him a thin smile. “I’ll take a punch any day for you to be mine.”
Tyler’s lips arch into a sweet smile, calling for his dimple to join. “I’m so gone for you, Kiisu.”
We sit in silence for some pensive moments, each in our own bubble of contemplation.
I clear my throat, “Umm, Tyler?”
“Yeah.” Tyler’s arms draw soft trails over my exposed skin, up from my navel to the valley of my breasts and back.
“I won’t be moving out.” I take a pause, slightly craning my neck to look at him. I’ve thoroughly dissected this — living together for some good intense months, me taking care of his child, being a part of his family and friends in a sense sped our getting to know each other to levels of intimacy a year of dating wouldn’t even begin to scratch. Yet, there are still things to be said, clarified. By the look in his eyes, the diminutive twitches of his features or the cadence of his voice alone I can decipher Tyler’s mood. “But for future reference, please don’t dismiss me. Don’t take the liberty of overruling my decisions. I can understand where it came from, a place of protection, of wanting to keep me safe.” I let out an exhale. “For us to work, I need to be my own person. You
need to respect my decisions, just like I do yours.”
Tyler’s arms band around my waist. “I will. There’s nothing I want more than for us to work.”
“We’re equals in this relationship, Tyler.”
His voice is low, almost a whisper as he says, “No, we are not. You have the upper hand, Kiisu. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Meet me there, where the stars turn silver. This time I promise I’ll bare my soul. This time I promise, I’ll never let you go.”
Never Again, Tyler Lee Adams new single.
“God, you’re. . .” I roll to my back still catching my breath. I turn my head, cheek pressed against the pillow and drink Tyler in. He mimics me, turning to his side. His tan skin now harboring a light blush, his breath labored, his eyes molten brown, boring into mine. “You’re killing me,” I say on a whisper. “In the best of ways.”
Tyler’s lip lifts at the corner into a half, sinful smile. He reaches his hand to brush a lock of hair clung to my cheek. “What can I say, every god damn thing about you turns me on.”
I lick my tender lips, giving him a soft smile. Tyler scoots closer to bring his lips to mine.
“You fucking sneeze and I find it incredibly sexy,” he says to my parted lips with his rough morning voice.
My giggle funnels into his mouth as he kisses me through a smile. “You’re adorably cray cray.”
Untangling myself from the addiction that is Tyler’s embrace, I drop my legs off the bed. Turning to look at Tyler over my shoulder, I ask, “So you’re not going to tell me who’s your plus one tonight?”
A wicked glee adorns his eyes as he shakes his head. “Nope.” He sends me a teasing grin. “You lost your right to ask me that when you refused to be my date.” I know he’s just joking, and he’s absolutely okay with me not being ready to be outed as Tyler Lee Adams’ girlfriend at such a covered event. There are more than enough speculations as it is. I’m not in a hurry to officially put it out there. But the fact that he won’t tell me who is going to be his date for the music awards tonight irritates more than a little. “C’mere.” He sends his arm to my waist.
Before he’s able to reach me, I jump off the bed. “Nah ah, there won’t be any c’meres for you now.” I walk over to the bathroom and just before closing the door behind me, turn to give him a cheeky stare. “Hey Tyler, . . .” Tyler lifts his brows in question. I bring both hands toward my nose and feign a loud sneeze. Tyler’s laughter follows me as I close the door behind me.
Inwardly laughing to myself, I listen to Zara as she goes on in light speed tempo about her plan for me for today. I rest my hands on the back of a nearby chair, grasping for something solid, , feeling like I need to hold on or I’ll be swept away by the torrential outpouring of words . I raise my stare to wordlessly ask Tyler to rescue me. Tyler grins at me and mouths “told you,” before giving me a small wave and leaving through the front door.
“C’mon there’s no one I can’t handle, I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” I told Tyler earlier when he warned me that his stylist, Zara, could be a handful. Nope, he wasn’t exaggerating. Zara is indeed, as Tyler said, a petite tornado. In the last ten minutes since we’ve been introduced, I’ve already learned about her dog of an ex-husband. Her love for “good ole’ Scotch” and “good ‘ole macho men”. How she thinks I have angelic facial features. How I have a fitted figure that a pound less would be perfect. Healthy, yet boring hair. And that her period can be declared a new form of torture. I keep blinking at her in stunned silence as she confirms a list of things we should get done before tonight. I lost her somewhere after putting my foot down and refusing to get a colon hydrotherapy. I don’t really care about having a little puffed tummy as she puts it, no tube is getting anywhere near my heiny, thank you very much.
“So, are we ready?” she finally asks.
I nod, seriously considering running out the door screaming.
More than twenty minutes later, where I’m slouched on a heated recliner, my feet wrapped up in aromatic seaweed mask, while I’m sipping the most delicious tea, I realize that, after all, Zara is an angel and we could definitely become best friends.
Zara, firing styling advice my way, flips through a tablet, showing me different styles of dresses for tonight. “I think we’re fine,” she says not long after. “I like your style, but I think that maybe for tonight you’d want to go with something a bit more . . .” She raises both hands dramatically. “Make a statement! You’ll get lost in the crowd if we go with something uninspiring.”
“You know I’m not going as Tyler’s date, right?” I try to make a valid point to tone down her need for a grandeur effect.
She pats my hand with a lenient smile. “That doesn’t mean you can’t shine, babe.”
Well, who can argue with that? I let Zara take the reins from here.
By the time we get home, about an hour and a half before we should leave for the evening, I am a proud new owner of six gorgeous evening gowns, and a dozen exquisite pairs of shoes. Not to mention, I’m waxed, pampered and beautified like I’ve never been before. Seriously though, my skin never glowed like it does right now as I observe myself in the mirror with fascination.
“I think you should wear the red one,” Zara tips her chin at the collection of dresses now hanging in my half of Tyler’s dressing room. The red one is one of the dresses Zara chose for me, one of the “unique” ones that will push me outside my comfort zone and make me look like a goddess, her words not mine.
I’m still a bit hesitant with that one, what with the way it clings to my skin and the tiny amount of skin left unexposed. The sound of my cell indicating an incoming text has me shrugging in agreement before picking up the phone.
Tyler: Surviving?
Hardly. You know, it’s tough being the center of a pampering crusade.
Tyler: Glad to hear they are taking good care of my woman.
No, it’s not pathetic at all how my body reacts to that little sentence. I never knew I could physically swoon. A tiny wicked smile blooms on my lips as I send him a response. An image of a sphynx cat with the following caption:
This little kitty and your Kiisu have something in common now.
The little dots on my phone jump as Tyler types his reply.
Tyler: What do you have in common with the coatless puss?
Not a second passes before the next message lands in my phone.
Tyler: You just killed me woman.
My hair is being styled into a sexy updo, and the makeup artist practically goes to town on my face with an evening look concept. I never had that much make up on my face at once. I feel like I’m playing dress-up in the remaining time till the guys come back home and we’re ready to go.
“And it’s a wrap!” Zara declares with utter enthusiasm as the makeup artist adds the last touch of glimmer to my deep, deep cleavage.
“Oh wow,” expels out of my lips as I stand before the mirror. I look dazzling in a very provocative kind of way. For a moment there, I remind myself of a sexy Bratz doll with the heavy makeup and the tight, sensuous red number I’m wearing. I look glamorous, I have to give it to Zara, but even if you look really carefully there’s nothing of the real me in the glitzy reflection looking back at me via the mirror.
“The guys are downstairs waiting for you,” Zara says, urging me to leave the mirror and go downstairs.
My steps as I take the stairs are somewhat hesitant and they have nothing to do with the high heels I’m wearing. My heart pounds in my chest as I take the last few steps, meeting Tyler’s gaze. Tyler’s lips part as he scans me head to toe. His brows slightly bunch before his lips arch in a predatory smile. I fidget as Tyler walks over to me, offering me his hand.
“Young Ivi, wow,” Jay says, from his place beside Tyler. “You don’t look so young and innocent anymore.”
Exactly, Jay.
Tyler leans in to press a soft kiss to my cheek. Easing off, he parts his lips, about to speak.
“Tyl
er?” Jeremy, in a tux and jeans, stops in his tracks with a chocolate bar in his hand. “Oh hi,” his eyes drop to Tyler’s and my joined hands and up again to look at me. He cocks his head, looking at me as if he knows me from somewhere. “I-Ivi?”
I let go of Tyler’s hand and rush to wrap Jeremy in my arms. “Missed me?” I say over a watery smile. God, I missed this adorable kid so freaking much.
Jeremy’s toothy smile shines at me, “You’re back.”
“Couldn’t stay away from you.” Our mutual smiles grow.
“Are you, ah, staying?” He asks, his stare moves on to Tyler for confirmation.
Tyler nods with a smile I’m having a hard time to decode.
“Sweet!”
Tyler takes a few steps to reach us. Wrapping his hand around Jeremy’s shoulder, he grins at me. “How do you like my plus one?”
I watch them both, taken aback by how similar they look now. With the same outfit and the same buzzed hairstyle Jeremy is a spitting image of his dad. My chest fills with warmness and adoration, I can hardly breath. “It’s perfect.”
They both grin at me with that heart melting smile of theirs.
Eyeing me awkwardly, Jeremy twist his mouth. “The other day, um, I read in one of those women magazines they have in waiting rooms that makeup contains lead, and you know, it can cause allergies and it can sometimes affect the nervous system.”
I let out an uncomfortable sigh-laugh. Seeing Jeremy made me forget my look and how I feel about it. Feeling like a stranger in my own body never felt so real.
“We should get going,” Eli’s commanding voice comes from the vicinity of the kitchen, followed by his distinctive footfall.
Sensing my unease Tyler turns to face me. “You okay?”
Unplugged II: Unplugged, #2 Page 6
