by R. J. Lewis
“Is he yours?” she repeats. “Because if he isn’t, you have to give us ladies a fair chance.”
Jealousy bubbles in my chest. I want to tell her he is, but I can’t lie. He isn’t mine, and she’s pretty decent for asking instead of assuming.
“No,” I let out quietly. “He’s not.”
The girl flees in his direction, but not before letting the other ladies know at a table nearby. They’re sharks circling fresh meat. Poor Aidan is going to get tried by not one, or even two, but five women. And they’re all gorgeous. I sip my beer at the bar, looking away because I don’t want to witness it. I stare up at the screen and try to ignore the way my shoulders slump.
“Ivy?” a familiar voice says.
I look up in surprise as one of Derek’s old friends appears at my side.
Shit.
“Terry,” I reply, pretending to sound excited, but I’m actually shitting bricks. I look around real quick. Is Derek here? When was the last time he hung out with Terry?
“Are you here with Derek?” he asks me, taking a seat in the empty stool beside me.
If he’s asking that, then Derek is definitely not here with him.
I shake my head. “No, I’m not.”
“How are you guys?”
I’m vague. “We’re okay.”
He looks at me curiously, reading my expression. “Are you guys still together?”
The easy option is to say we are and leave it at that. Or I could say it’s complicated. But…
“We’ve separated, actually,” I explain softly, not meeting his eye.
He looks apologetic. “You came back, and I stupidly assumed it was to be with him. I’m sorry, Ivy.”
“No, that’s okay, Terry.”
Terry’s always been a genuinely good guy. One of the few friends of Derek I got along with. I’ve known him since I was sixteen, when I got with Derek in high school.
“Are you here with Heather?” I then ask. “How is she?”
His face falls in response. “She left me a few months ago.”
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Terry.”
He shrugs. “It happens.”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“Nah, it’s been a tough year for that.”
I’m genuinely surprised. This guy has a heart of gold, a long-term job, an apartment in his name, and he’s seriously good looking. He’s the definition of men who have their shit together.
“You should make your rounds,” I tell him, gesturing around the bar. “Plenty of women.”
“To be frank, I need to heal, Ivy. I’m not ready to dive in just yet. And anyways, they’re more interested in that suited dude,” he replies. “I think that’s Aidan West.”
I don’t look in his line of sight. “Is it?”
“Yeah, why aren’t you over there, having a poke?”
“Very freshly separated, Terry.”
“So? Derek was a dick to you.” When he sees my face fall, he doesn’t apologize. “It’s the truth and you know it. He shouldn’t have cheated on you. What an asshole. I couldn’t look at him the same after that shit came out.”
“Don’t let that ruin your friendship.”
“Someone capable of doing that to a loyal woman isn’t a friend of mine.” He says that with conviction. “I hope you’re far away from him. He’s a tornado. He’ll destroy whoever’s in his path.”
I don’t let him know I’m still living with him.
Instead, I look at him warmly, my eyes shining. “Thank you for your support.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and bumps his forehead to mine. He looks directly in my eyes and says, “You’ll look back one day, and this will all be a dream. I promise, sweetheart.”
I wrap my hand around his arm and squeeze. “That means a lot to me.”
He pulls away and asks the bartender for another round of beers. I’ve only had a few sips of mine, but I accept another one to be nice. We chat about his work and watch the fights. I don’t look back at Aidan once. I already know he’s being swarmed by ladies. I can hear the girly giggles from here.
The group Terry’s come with joins us. More familiar faces. Not Derek’s close friends, but loose acquaintances. No one asks me about Derek. I think it’s awkward because what he did made its rounds to everyone. It’s sort of humiliating to have that dirty laundry aired. I’d have preferred it be kept private. Spare me the pitiful looks.
Terry’s halfway drunk, the life of the party, cracking jokes and being touchy-feely. He touches my knee, rubs my arm, sits close. I know how it looks, but I also know he doesn’t mean anything by it. I scoot away and return my focus on the screen. The main event is coming.
“Having fun without me?” Aidan’s voice cuts through the air. He comes up beside me, so close his body is brushing against my side. He bends down, elbows on the bar, face inches from mine, staring straight at me.
“Did you think I’d just sit here like a puppy while you flirted your way through half the ladies in the bar?” I return, smiling. My smile is all wrong, though, and I think I shouldn’t have said that.
Aidan’s fingers come up. He runs them through my hair, focusing on the red strands. “I was looking for an escape. You didn’t come rescue me.”
“Oh, so you needed rescuing.” My voice is dry.
“You doubt me.”
I glance over his shoulder and at the ladies all huddled now, looking at him. “Go back, Aidan, you’re breaking hearts.”
“Don’t do that,” he returns, dropping his hand and moving even closer.
“Do what?”
“Don’t read into it. I came here with you. I hunted you down, remember?”
I look away, staring at the screen again because I don’t want him to read me. I don’t know why I’m feeling hurt. He did nothing wrong.
“You’re upset,” he says, and he sounds confused. “I don’t get why.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Some stranger was bumping foreheads with you, touching your arm, getting to feel you in ways I dare not, and you’re upset a few women talked to me?”
He was watching me the entire time.
My face goes red. “Terry’s my friend, not a stranger, and he was being supportive.”
“Supportive of what?”
I don’t immediately respond. I haven’t told Aidan about my conversation with Derek about ending things forever. I wanted the boundaries to still exist because I’m weak when it comes to Aidan. Part of me – the really deep part – is scared that all I am is a quest. Aidan may lose interest when he has his way with me, and he will have his way with me if he tries because I’m only flesh and bone and I can’t fight the way I feel for him if I tried.
“Ivy,” he stresses my name. “Temptress.”
My lips flick up, and my heart flutters. “I’m not tempting you right now.”
He stares at my lips. “You tempt me by simply existing.”
I feel my eyelids grow heavy as I look back at him. I flash him a sad smile. “How am I supposed to pretend to feel unaffected when you say things like that? Am I as easy as the rest to woo?”
“I’m not trying to woo you.”
“I worry this is all a game to you.”
He’s so close, we’re breathing each other in. If he flicked his tongue out, I might feel it. But he never gets any closer.
“This isn’t a game,” he tells me solemnly. “It never was.”
“I guess I’m a little scared.”
“Don’t be. I’m here with you because you’re all I think about, Ivy. Do you understand?”
I swallow hard and manage a nod.
I’m about to take a sip of my beer, but he snatches it from my hand and settles it on the other side of him.
“Sober, Ivy,” he tells me. “I need you sober tonight.”
I look at him, surprised. He’s had at least a couple beers. He’s a little buzzed, his eyes are brighter than they were before.
Whooping sounds around us. The ma
in event is about to begin, but I can’t take my eyes off Aidan. He slides into the stool next to me and takes my hand. His fingers entwine with mine and he settles it on his thigh. His grip is firm and warm. We both look at the screen, but all my attention is on his touch. His thumb runs along my skin in circular motions.
The men orbit around him naturally. I see Aidan in a whole new light as he integrates fine amongst them, smiling in that lazy way that makes my stomach flip-flop. He’s engaging. Fits well with the boys. This man can’t be as socially switched off as I thought if he’s so good at blending in.
“He stands no chance,” he tells the men, shaking his head with that cocky look. “He won’t make it past the fifth round.”
I laugh because they think he’s absurd. After watching the highlights, even I think his prediction is absurd.
The fight is grizzly. The two opponents are neck and neck the first few rounds. I squeeze Aidan’s hands every time a fist connects to someone’s face. He pulls me closer to him, until I’m off the stool and my back is against his front. I stare up at the screen, feeling his breaths against the back of my head. His other arm is wrapped around my waist, and his hand is still holding mine, his thumb still rubbing my skin.
“You’re going to be wrong!” I yell, wincing because the Scottish man is going to take the lanky dude down.
“He’s exhausting himself,” Aidan tells me.
“Admit you’re wrong!”
But Aidan admits nothing. The bar is buzzing and loud and patrons are losing their shit, standing around the screens, crossing their arms. I think a handful have put down some bets because of how tense they look.
Aidan should be watching, but I feel his eyes on me instead. He shuffles my hair to the side and then I feel his nose against the back of my neck. He runs his lips along my bare skin, leaving goosebumps behind. I swallow hard, trying to pay attention to the match but I find myself sagging against his front, trapped in his heat. I yearn for his touch, for his tongue along my skin, for the brush of his fingers along a very different part of me. I’m standing here in a crowd of people, watching a bloody match, and I’m slowly burning on the inside. He’s turning me on with the gentlest of touches, sending pulses of pleasure between my legs. I’ve never felt this way before.
"Ivy, Ivy, Ivy," he whispes lustfully.
I shut my eyes for a split second, savoring his voice.
Out of nowhere, the match takes a sudden turn and the beautiful looking Brazilian fighter is coming out of nowhere, delivering fast swings against the Scotsman. He goes down fast, his face stunned. One more swing and he’s knocked out. Everyone is equally stunned. It throws me for a loop, sends me flying out of my lustful haze. I spin around to look at Aidan, my mouth open in surprise.
“How’d you know?!” I holler through the noise, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder.
He laughs and catches my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tenderly. “Feisty when you’re wrong, beauty,” he teases, sliding off the stool because the guys are shouting for him.
He turns away to exchange some words with them. I smile dazedly, admiring his profile. I blink away and look to my right, catching Terry’s eye. He’s grinning at me, shaking his head like he’s just caught me doing something. And he did. Didn’t I just tell him I was freshly separated and not looking for anything? I instantly shake Aidan’s hand off and take a step back. I’m a fool to think Aidan wouldn’t notice. His head snaps to mine and he raises his brows, amused. Maybe he takes it as me playing hard to get.
“Just antsy,” I try to explain. “Been here a while.”
He drops his head to my level. “Ready to get out of here, temptress?”
I nod, smiling at the nickname. “Sure.”
“I’ll take care of the bill. Be right back.”
Then he’s weaving through the crowd to get to the counter. Terry instantly comes up alongside me, and I just roll my eyes because he’s laughing.
“You knew it was Aidan West from the start,” he says, catching on. “You came here with him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We’re just friends.”
“That was more than just friendly touching.”
I’m crimson. “We really are friends.”
“Oh, Ivy.” He glances over his shoulder at his group. “You’ll need to try harder to convince the rest of us.”
“Look” – I’m defending myself and it’s not a good look – “if he was with me in that way, would I have allowed those ladies to swarm him?”
Terry doesn’t appear convinced. In fact, now his face grows a little serious. “Aidan West was the biggest player around a couple years ago, sweetheart. Just be careful, alright?”
“I think he was a different man a couple years ago,” I correct him. “I’ve heard the rumours, Terry, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
Now he relents, nodding like he understands. “You’re right. People change, I guess, and no one really hears much about him anymore. I just get a little protective.”
My face gentles. “I’d rather have someone watch over me like that. Thanks.”
“Look,” he says, pulling out his phone from his pocket, “I want to be able to keep in touch and see how you’re going.”
“I have you on Facebook.”
He gives me a look. “Not Facebook, Ivy, what the fuck.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
“If you’re ever in trouble or just need some friendly company, call me, alright?”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and we exchange numbers. Then he wraps his arms around me in a big bear hug. It feels nice to have his support, to know it’s not just Ana and Alicia in my corner. The second he pulls away, I feel arms wrap around my waist. Aidan’s scent falls over me as he pulls me to his side.
“Gonna introduce me, beauty?” he asks, staring straight at Terry, almost like he’s sizing him up.
“This is Terry,” I say, holding back a smile.
“And I was just going back to my guys,” Terry replies, holding back a laugh. “See ya, Ivy.”
I wave at him. We don’t immediately move. Aidan’s staring at him, not appearing completely impressed.
“He’s a friend from high school,” I tell him. “Quit it.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You look like you’re about to be reactive.”
Now his lips twitch. “Yeah, I don’t know what the hell is happening.”
“It’s called jealousy.” But I stare at him hard, studying his expression, feeling a shred of doubt. “Right?”
He smirks, tugging me closer. “You’re driving me crazy, Ivy.”
His hand wraps around mine possessively and he’s leading me out of the bar.
Sixteen
Ivy
We step out into the cold air. We walk along the plaza. I’m on a high and I can’t stop grinning like an idiot.
“Why are you smiling?” he asks, bumping his shoulder to mine.
“You were jealous.”
He chuckles. “You said that twice already.”
“Admit it.”
He stops and spins me around so I’m facing him. He drops my hand and looks down at me, appearing amused and…hungry. Those brown eyes search mine. “I wasn’t jealous,” he tells me, his voice low. “It was more than that. Worse.”
“Worse?” My voice is quiet, questioning.
“It felt like lava in my veins. It felt…”
I wait as he searches for the words.
But his gaze falls to my mouth. “You’re tempting the fuck out of me right now.”
But I’m not doing anything. I’m just staring back at him, holding my breath.
“Fuck,” he whispers now, coming closer to me, dropping his head to mine. “Stop it, Ivy, before I lose control.”
I bite my lip. “Whatever I’m doing, it’s your fault, Mr West. And besides,” I turn away and begin walking down the sidewalk ahead of him, turn
ing once to say, “it’s more fun this way.”
I feel a deep groan behind me, and I smile to myself. I can hear his footsteps, so I move a little faster to keep the distance. We pass a few more restaurants, and the patios are packed Everyone’s been watching the match. They can’t stop talking about it. A corner bar is exploding with a song. Can’t Feel My Face is playing. I hear cheers. I race to the courtyard, aware that Aidan is following close behind. Just as I feel his hands on my waist, I spin around to face him and wrap my hands around the back of his neck, settling my arms on his shoulders. He holds me close, laughing when I start to dance to the song. A bit of drink in me, a bit of wanting eyes from Aidan West, his admission to feeling jealous, and I’m feeling a buzz I can’t describe. A buzz that makes me want to kiss him… or dance… and for now I’ll stick to dancing.
“You’re a lot of fun, beauty,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re vibrant, exciting, and you’re so fucking beautiful it hurts my eyes to look at you.”
He pulls away to look down at me. He stares down at my lips. He shifts closer, gripping me tight, and then he drops his face to mine. His nose touches mine and I feel his breath against my mouth. My heart is pounding, and I…resist.
I pull away. “Spin me, Mr West.”
His face is pained. He spins me, his gaze drunk off the sight of me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask him, stopping now to catch my breath.
His shrug is faint. A weak smile curls along his lips as he pins me with his wanting gaze. “I like you, Ivy Montcalm.” It’s spoken like a soft admission.
My heart skips a beat. I’m just about to tell him I like him too when something wet hits my face. I see a raindrop land on his cheek. Another on his lips. We stop moving and I look up, smiling widely as more drops begin to fall.
“We better get out of here,” I tell him. “Or we’ll get drenched.”
He removes his suit jacket again and throws it to me. I catch it and place it over my head.
He grins. “Better run, Miss Montcalm.”
We hurry out of the courtyard. The rain picks up on our way down the long trek back to his car. It’s pissing down now, and he’s drenched. His white shirt is soaked through. I can see all his muscles through that shirt. All the fine lines, and it steals my breath away. When he turns to look at me, grinning, I realize I’m getting wet regardless of his stupid jacket. I throw it at him, and he laughs, catching it. He carries it loosely in one hand and then extends his other one out for me.
