Her Greatest Mistake

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Her Greatest Mistake Page 21

by Eve L Mitchell


  “We work different hours.”

  “Like shift workers?” I looked out the window to check where we were.

  “Sure.”

  “You’re very open for a stranger, but then I realised you don’t actually say anything.” I nudged him. “Come on, off. This is our stop.”

  We got off the bus, and we walked in silence to the apartment. I slowly reached into my bag, but Wall had already produced keys and held the door open for me.

  “Thank you.” I smiled up at him, hoping he hadn’t noticed that I was testing him on whether he should be in the building or not. We climbed the stairs together, and when we got to our floor, he stopped at his door.

  “So, neighbour, what do I call you apart from Smurfette?”

  I let out a startled laugh. “You’ve been calling me Smurfette?”

  “You’re tiny.”

  “I’m average height,” I protested indignantly.

  “Average where? The land of gnomes and smurfs?”

  “Not everyone can be supersized.”

  “Supersized, I like it.” He grinned at me. “Steve.” He held his hand out, and it engulfed mine.

  “Jemma,” I replied. I headed over to my own door and then stopped and looked back at him. “Your names are Tyler and Steve?” He started to grin. “Steve Tyler? Seriously?”

  “You not buying it?”

  “Does anyone?”

  “That’s our names!” He laughed as he turned the key in his door.

  “Okay, Steve, tell me when Joe and Perry turn up,” I quipped as I opened my own door.

  “Goodnight, Jemma,” he called as he went into the apartment.

  “Goodnight, Steve!” I was laughing as I closed the door behind me. For the first time in a long time, Monday wasn’t a complete washout. Progress.

  Steve got the bus home with me three more times that week. I genuinely would have been thinking he was a stalker, but he was always running late for the bus, and it wasn’t until the second time that I realised he was running from somewhere.

  We would talk on the bus about our day, and then we said goodnight at our respective doors. I didn’t see much of Tyler, but I heard him. He was another one of those athletic people—meaning he jogged and used his bike a lot. Having a bike to carry up and down the stairs every time he used it seemed like too much energy for me. I was happy to avoid Tyler as I suspected he was the type that would encourage you to be active and healthy too. If Tyler ever found out I didn’t do ten thousand steps a day, I feared for my feet.

  Steve, on the other hand, was one of the easiest people in the world to talk to. In four bus journeys, I found out almost everything about him. He was originally from North Carolina, a complete Carolina Panthers fan, and we spent one whole bus journey just talking about their running back. He was serious about working out, but I think that was more an obvious fact. I had never seen someone so huge. His arms didn’t cross because he had so much muscle on him. He went to one of the fancy gyms a few blocks from where I worked, and it was on our third journey I realised he worked there. He was a personal trainer, but I didn’t get the sales pitch. Maybe he was biding his time…or he heard my breathing as we climbed the stairs to the apartments and realised I would die in a gym.

  He ate Thai food like it was a religion, he was vegetarian, and he didn’t take caffeine into his body. We were like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito in the film classic, Twins. We were polar opposites in taste, height, weight…everything. Steve was my new best friend. He told me this, I hadn’t claimed him, but I didn’t object. He was unforgivably open and honest.

  “Hey, JimJem,” Steve said to me as we were getting ready to part ways on our floor.

  “JimJem? Really?” I laughed.

  “Yeah, it’s cute, like you.” He winked at me. “Tyler is making dinner tonight; you coming over to eat with your bestie?”

  “Shouldn’t Tyler be asked first?”

  “Fuck no, he’ll be delighted to feed someone who isn’t me.”

  “Check with your roommate,” I told him again before I went inside.

  I changed into my comfy clothes and put a load of washing into the washer. I was standing contemplating a Riesling or a Chardonnay when my door was knocked. Smiling, I picked up the Chardonnay and went over and swung the door open theatrically, ready to say something witty. The words died on my tongue.

  Aiden stood in front of me.

  “Aiden.”

  “Jemma.” He looked me over. “Going straight for the wine, little early, is it not?”

  I swallowed as I looked at him. He looked absolutely perfect. Why? Why did he have to look perfect? Dark dress pants, a black dress shirt and his leather jacket. Clean shaven with his hair absolutely faultless. I hate you.

  “Why are you here?” I asked him. What am I wearing? Please God, tell me I still have a bra on.

  “I thought we could talk.” He leaned against my doorframe, and it only ramped his sexiness up tenfold.

  I had tall, dark and dreamy looking like a lickable sex on a stick in front of me, and he knew exactly what he was doing. “It’s been three weeks. More than three weeks. You want to talk now?”

  “No.” Aiden’s grin was predatory. “I want to fuck you all night long because it’s been three weeks, but I’m a realist; I know you’re probably going to want to talk first.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “We both know you’re just pretending to be outraged.”

  “You’re truly unbelievable.”

  “Jemma,” Aiden looked at me patiently. “I’ve fucked you hard many, many times. You think I don’t know how you react to me? I told you I wanted to fuck you all night long, your breath caught, your cheeks are flushed, and your knuckles are white on the neck of that wine bottle.” Aiden smirked and took a step forward. “I have no doubt you’re wet for me already, baby, so why don’t you step aside and let me in?”

  “My knuckles are white on the bottle neck because I have to stop myself from actually hitting you over the head with it,” I snapped at him.

  “You wouldn’t hit me with the bottle.”

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good wine.”

  He smiled again. “Are we doing this out in the hall?”

  “No.” When he moved forward, I stepped forward to block him. “I have nothing to say to you. You can go.”

  Aiden laughed. He actually stood there and laughed at me. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”

  “Hey, JimJem, you okay?”

  Aiden turned slowly, almost leisurely, to look at Steve. I moved forward to intervene, but the look on Aiden’s face made me hesitate. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Aiden!” I hissed. “Don’t be so rude.”

  “I’m a friend of Jemma’s. Who the fuck are you?” Steve looked Aiden over and obviously didn’t like what he saw. “You lost?”

  Aiden turned to me, and his face was a mask. “This why I can’t come in?”

  “No.” I sighed heavily. “You know why…” I trailed off. The intensity of his stare was unnerving.

  “Are you fucking joking?”

  “Hey, don’t speak to Jemma like that.” Steve moved forward.

  “Again, who the fuck are you?” Aiden’s voice was so cold I almost didn’t recognise him. He turned back to me. “You fucking him now?”

  “No!” I gasped. “You are completely out of line, Aiden.”

  “Let’s go inside, and we can talk about this.” Aiden waited.

  I licked my lips as I stood hesitantly.

  “Jemma, dinner’s ready,” Steve told me with a pointed look.

  Aiden took a step towards me. “Don’t,” he warned me softly.

  “You can’t turn up at my door like nothing has happened.” I took a purposeful step outside my door. “Steve, I have the wine.” Thank you, Jesus, for keeping my voice steady.

  “Good, let’s go, food’s getting cold.” Steve was watching Aiden closely.

  I closed my door beh
ind me firmly and went to step around Aiden. His hand shot out and caught my arm. “Don’t do this, Jem,” he spoke very softly. My eyes flicked to Steve’s, but I doubted he could hear him.

  “And why shouldn’t I, Aiden?” I asked him just as quietly.

  His grip tightened. “Because you’re mine.”

  “I’m no one’s.” I wrenched my arm free. “I most certainly am not yours.” I walked past him, and Steve stood aside to let me into his apartment before he followed me inside and closed the door behind him.

  Steve immediately dipped his height to look through the peephole. He waited, and I didn’t dare move. I knew Aiden would be in the hall still, furious. Steve turned to me a few minutes later. “He’s gone.”

  “Okay,” I chewed my lip. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. Come into the living room, and we can crack your wine open.” Steve smiled gently at me, but he lost his smile when my tears spilled over. “No, don’t let him make you cry, he’s obviously a prick.”

  “He is,” I sniffled and put the wine down as I rubbed my nose. “I’m not crying because of him.” Okay, that wasn’t entirely true.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Okay, I may be crying a little bit about him,” I snivelled.

  Steve wrapped me in a huge hug, and I felt dwarfed, but I hesitantly put my arms around him anyway. “We can talk about your dickhead ex if you want?” he offered.

  “Okay, but I’m really not crying just because of him. He’s not really my ex either.”

  “Then why are you crying?” Steve pulled back and looked down at me in confusion.

  “I’ve locked myself out of my apartment.” I told him sheepishly as I sniffed again.

  “Oh, JimJem.” Steve started to laugh and soon I was laughing with him.

  The rest of the evening was good fun. Tyler was someone who was very pro fitness, but he didn’t try to convert me to his way of thinking. Steve called a locksmith, and I stayed in their apartment until one was able to come out and give me a new lock and key. I felt ridiculous, but as we waited, I found out more about the two guys, and they relaxed me so easily I felt comfortable being there.

  Steve loved his job but had realised that being a personal trainer could play havoc on his own lifestyle and had spent the last two years making sure his hours were more morning and during the day rather than evenings. He was so good at his job that his clients made the time to go see him and not the other way around. There were only a few clients he would do evenings for, and he was strict on not bending that rule too much.

  Tyler was a cop, which is why Steve had mentioned that I wouldn’t see much of him. When he was off duty, he kept healthy or developed his other passion—cooking. The man could cook, and Tyler was so pleased to have someone else to experiment on that I had an open invitation for dinner whenever he was cooking. The way his food tasted, I wasn’t saying no. Tyler was slightly older than me, and Steve a year younger. Tyler and his long-term partner had just separated, and Steve’s lease had ended, and the landlord wanted to sell. Tyler had already put his offer in for the condo and told Steve he could use the spare room until he found somewhere new.

  “Well, I think I have overstayed my invitation for dinner,” I said with a shy smile. I had been sitting on the sofa, my legs tucked under me with Steve on the other end and Tyler stretched out on a chair, his long legs out in front of him.

  “Will you be okay?” Steve asked me.

  Neither of them had asked for any details about Aiden. When Steve had led me into the living room, Tyler had taken in my puffy red eyes and merely held his hand out for the bottle of wine. He had quickly opened it and poured me a glass while Steve told him I had a run-in outside with an undesirable and accidentally locked myself out of my apartment. That was it. No questions, no probing, no uncomfortableness. Tyler had merely nodded and then asked me to taste his marinara sauce, while Steve found a twenty-four-hour locksmith.

  Steve grinned at me. “It’s been a pleasure,” he told me warmly. “You’ll be alright?” he asked me again, clearly concerned for me.

  “I will, I’m sorry about…earlier.” I felt my face burn as I avoided looking at both of them.

  “Don’t be stupid, JimJem. I’m glad I came out when I did; he didn’t look like the type who understands the word no.” Steve frowned as he looked at Tyler. “Maybe you should check him out.”

  A feeling of alarm swept over me. “No! Honestly, he isn’t a bad guy. He would never hurt me.” Liar. “Well, not physically.”

  “Emotional abuse is just as crippling as domestic abuse, you know,” Tyler said to me.

  “It isn’t like that,” I told them earnestly. “We hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks, we had an argument before he went away, and I wasn’t ready to listen to him tonight.”

  “Okay.” Steve still didn’t look convinced. “You come for one of us if he comes back and you don’t want him there.”

  “I will.” I stood. “You’ve both been amazing tonight. Thank you so much.”

  “Anything for a pretty woman.” Steve winked as he stood too.

  “And I’m sure all the women you tell that to, fall for it.” I nudged him playfully.

  “They don’t,” Tyler said dryly. “He crashes and burns every time.” He looked at me steadily from his seat. “But he’s right, if you feel like you’re in trouble or even slightly uncomfortable, you call me.” He pointed to himself. “I mean me, not Steve. I can do something about it.”

  “Thank you, but I promise I’ll be fine. He really isn’t dangerous.” Pah, tell that to your heart.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” Steve laughed as he headed to the hallway.

  “Thank you for the lovely evening, Tyler,” I said. “I needed this, and I know I overstayed, but thank you for being too much of a gentleman to mention it.”

  “Jemma, if I wanted you out of my home, I would have kicked you out.” He grinned. “Don’t let my Southern accent fool you, I’m no gentleman.” His wink was cheeky, and I laughed as I said goodnight.

  “You don’t need to come out,” I told Steve with a smile. “You can literally see my door.”

  He was waiting for me with the door open. “Yeah, but I want to check it out anyway. Make sure you’re secure.”

  “I’m not in danger from him,” I reminded him.

  “I know, you said. But I got two locks put on the door anyway.”

  “You did?” I looked at my door in surprise. I had been with the locksmith, and I hadn’t even seen him do this. “When?”

  “Before he left. Don’t worry, he’s coming back tomorrow to do Tyler’s. I don’t care if they say these doors lock in ten different places when you put the handle up. Two locks are better.”

  “Worrywart,” I teased him.

  “Yeah, I know. But Tyler doesn’t need his work following him home. You’d be surprised at how two locks put burglars off.”

  “You speaking from experience?”

  “Actually, I am. Wasn’t that good a kid when I was younger.” He shrugged.

  “Past mistakes are exactly that. Mistakes in the past.”

  “Yeah? Remember that when you shed a tear over the prick from earlier,” Steve said softly.

  I huffed out a rueful laugh. “You’re just a never-ending source of wisdom, huh?”

  Steve dwarfed me in a hug. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “You will.” I returned the hug. “And thank you for everything.”

  “Anytime, JimJem.” He went back to his own apartment, and I closed the door and locked both locks. With a smile, I went to the kitchen and immediately tossed my old door keys in the trash. Tonight had been a good night despite Aiden turning up. In my bedroom, I pulled off my top and eyed my phone sitting on my nightstand. I had put it on to charge when I came home, so it had been locked in the house when I was locked out of the house. I walked over to it and tapped the screen, nervous at what I would find.

  One message. I looked at the notification
that told me it was sent three hours ago. Bracing myself, I opened his text.

  Aiden: Did you fuck him?

  You complete bastard, not everyone can switch their emotions off like you. Taking the phone off charge, I went into my bathroom to get ready for bed. As I brushed my teeth, with a new toothbrush, I thought about his text. Knots formed in my stomach as apprehension coursed through my veins. Who the hell did he think he was that he had the right to ask me that? I thought about his words earlier. He was right, he did affect me. I had reacted when he told me he wanted to have sex with me—how could I not? He was incredible in bed. I had never experienced anything like it. I really wasn’t one for dirty talk in the bedroom; it was embarrassing and sometimes just completely cringeworthy and off-putting. With Aiden, I reacted to it a whole different way. When he said he wanted to spend the night fucking me, my blood raced through my veins while my core tightened in anticipation. He didn’t make me feel cheap, or slutty, or less than him. He made me feel like a goddess and his only purpose was to worship me. You’re so screwed, Jemma.

  I rinsed my mouth out, and after putting on hand cream, I climbed into bed. Lying in the darkness, I stared at the ceiling. Shivers ran over me as I thought about him. He had looked so good. You’re pathetic, I berated myself. It wasn’t just about looks, I knew that. I wasn’t so shallow that I was only hung up on his looks. He was—or could be, at least—a beautiful person too. He just hides it really well. I laughed in the darkness at my inner snarkiness.

  Turning onto my side, I stared out of my window to the night sky. I was on the fourth floor of the building, and there was nothing overlooking the back of the building. I slept with my drapes open in the winter so I could watch the snow or the rain. Tonight, I watched the stars. It was an almost clear sky with a sliver of the moon showing. It soothed me more than I realised. My phone lit up, and I was confused for a moment before I realised why my bedroom was suddenly illuminated.

  Rolling over, I picked it up.

  Aiden: I asked, did you fuck him?

  I took a deep calming breath. I could ignore him, but having been ignored for three weeks, I knew how horrible that was. Plus, it was Aiden, he would just keep going until I answered.

 

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