Irresistibly Undeniable

by Zoey Derrick

  I smile at his thoughtfulness and I wrap it around my neck, leaving my jacket open. He slings his jacket over his arm and takes my hand. It all seems so real, so normal and it’s not easy to wrap my head around it. A part of me starts to wonder if the dream is going to end and I’m going to wake up alone.

  I’m reminded of the dull ache that hasn’t left my chest since my mother’s passing and I can’t imagine a dream that would be so sweet and potent and then be that cruel at the same time.

  As we descend into the lobby, Dyson releases my hand and pulls his jacket on. His is much thicker and sexier than mine. It’s one of those wool, hooded, double button jackets you see on models all the time and Dyson does it justice. He’s sexy as hell, and it doesn’t matter whether he’s naked, in jeans or in one of his expensive suits. And he’s all mine.

  Wait, is he?

  Jesus, I’ve had sex what, five times, with someone and I don’t even know what kind of relationship we’ve got going on. The thoughts cause me to stiffen and Dyson notices. “What’s rolling around in that pretty little brain of yours, princess?”

  I don’t know if I really want to bring it up, but the elevator stops and someone joins us. Thankful for the distraction, I step back, but Dyson’s right next to me. His warmth surrounds me and his scent is like the eraser to a whiteboard. I don’t remember much of what I was thinking before his close proximity short circuited my brain.

  When the elevator stops, we step off behind the other female passenger and we’re headed toward the lobby when my cell phone rings. It hasn’t made a sound in over twenty-four hours and it startles me. I debate on answering it. Dyson pauses, looking at me. “That’s you, love.”

  There is that term again. What in the hell am I supposed to make of that?

  I pull my phone from my back pocket and see Reese’s face. I click the side of it, darkening and ignoring the call. “It’s not important,” I tell him and he takes my hand in his as we walk through the manned door of his building and into the Saturday morning foot traffic of New York City.

  Stepping onto the sidewalk and looking around, I’m actually glad to get out of the apartment. I didn’t think I’d want to leave, but I’ll be dammed if this city isn’t calling to me for some unknown reason.

  With our hands joined, Dyson leads me casually down the street. When we turn the corner I am struck with a sense of déjà vu that has me slowing in my tracks. I feel like I’ve been here before, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why. It’s not a remarkable street. Not the type you’d see in a magazine or anything like that, but it’s oddly familiar. “What’s wrong?” Dyson asks me when our hands reach their limit and he rubber bands back to me. I keep staring down the street, trying to find where this street belongs in my memory but nothing is coming to mind. I try and shake it off, but it’s going to rattle my nerves until I can figure it out for myself.

  “Nothing, I just…” I pull my eyes away from the street and find his. “I feel like I’ve been here before and I don’t have any idea where or why.”

  “Maybe you were a New York debutante in a previous life?” He cocks an eyebrow in disbelief.

  I chuckle, shaking off the odd feeling I’m missing something. “Hardly,” I state simply. “Because if that were the case, the fact that you’re a loaded CEO would do more than scare the hell out of me. I was probably a hippie,” I tease.

  “My money doesn’t bother you at all, does it?”

  “In the sense of ‘I want you for your money’, no. In the sense of ‘I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around more than three zeros in my bank account – to the left of the decimal’, yes. But that’s not your fault, Dyson. It’s an accomplishment and one you should be proud of, I know I am.” I wink at him and he kind of stares at me. I grin and ask, “What?”

  He shakes his head, releases my hand wraps his arm around my shoulders, kissing my forehead. “I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve you,” he breathes. His voice is so low that if I wasn’t expecting him to say something, I wouldn’t have heard him.

  I shiver, his warmth reminding me that I’m cold, and when I look back down the street, the déjà vu has disappeared altogether.

  We walk a little ways before Dyson leads me between a couple parked cars. Looking both directions, he releases my shoulders and goes for my hand. As we cross the street, I notice a restaurant on the corner. The corner of the building has a red and white awning that wraps around the building with tables under it. There are actually people sitting at them. “They’re crazy,” I mutter.

  He brings his arm back around my shoulders, holding me close and keeping me warm. I tighten my jacket around me. “This is normal for New Yorkers. You’re the only one turning into a popsicle,” he chuckles and I shoulder check him.

  “I can’t help what I’m used to. Then again, when it’s a hundred and twenty in Phoenix, I can remember this and remember why I love winters in the Valley of the Sun.”

  “There is no argument from me.” He leads me to an unimposing door around the corner from where we crossed and I’m immediately assaulted with the delicious scent of grilled onions, mushrooms and so much mouthwatering promise. Literally.

  My phone rings again. I pull it from my back pocket and see it’s Reese again. I look at Dyson. Something in my eyes tells him I need to take it and he shrugs. “Do your thing, baby girl.” I scowl at him. He chuckles.

  I press the green button and put the phone to my ear. “What’s up Reese?”

  “Hey, baby girl.” And now you know why Dyson calling me that makes me twitchy. “It’s really loud, where are you?”

  Hmm, it’s not that loud. “Hang on.” I gesture toward the door and Dyson nods as I step back out into the cold. “I’m out to lunch…”

  “It’s not even eleven in the morning.”

  “I, erm...” I didn’t really want to tell him where I was, but I know he’s not gonna let it go. “I’m in New York.”

  “So you’re not coming tonight?” he says dejected.

  “Coming for what?”

  “Blu – the concert.” His voice is sad and I immediately remember what he’s talking about. Fuck, he just reminded me earlier this week too. We were going to have some drinks and talk. Guilt slices through me.

  “Shit, Reese, I’m sorry, I forgot. I, uh…”

  “Just spill it, baby girl. What’s going on?” He’s not angry, which is just how Reese is. I’m not one to back out of our plans at the last minute, so he knows something’s going on.

  “I didn’t plan on coming here. I got here yesterday morning,” I explain, hoping to remain as vague as possible with Reese. We haven’t talked much since before my mom passed, so I haven’t told him hardly anything other than I got the job.

  “Is it for Wellington?”

  “No, it was personal, last minute.”

  “Now I know you can’t afford that.” I picture him leaning against his kitchen counter, crossing his arms and tucking his phone to his shoulder.

  I roll my eyes at no one. “I’ll explain when I get home. Dinner, Tuesday night? I start on Monday.”

  “Oh, baby girl, that’s awesome. And yes, Tuesday, dinner. Don’t get dead.”

  I laugh, “I don’t plan on it.”

  “Love ya.”

  “Reese?” I know he’s gonna hang up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “For what?”

  “Not prying too far.”

  He snorts into the phone. “You know damn well I ain’t gonna let you get away with not telling me, so the point is moot.”

  I laugh softly at his words, “I won’t, promise. Dinner, Tuesday.”

  “You got it. Have fun.”

  “Love ya.”

  “Back at ya.”

  By the end of our convoluted conversation, Reese is fine. I know he’ll be mad at me for missing the Lee Brice show at Blu tonight, but I didn’t even think about it before hopping on a plane to fly out here. I shiver and decide I need to get back ins
ide to Dyson and lunch.

  I step inside the door and I look around for him.

  That’s when my heart freezes in my chest and my appetite dies.

  Chapter 43

  DYSON

  “Crazy In Love” - Beyonce (From Fifty Shades of Grey)

  “Jill, what the fuck?”

  Jill walked up after Ireland walked outside to talk to her friend and I’ve been trying to get her away from me ever since. “I saw you come in, so I thought I’d say hi. We didn’t leave things on very good terms yesterday.”

  “No, Jill, we left them on perfectly fine terms. Now what do you want? I know damn well if you’re in this neighborhood, you only came for one reason.” Thank god we weren’t in the apartment when she decided to show up. God only knows how that would have gone over. Jill is the only woman I’ve ever allowed in my penthouse, and it was during a rare moment of weakness and an attempt to do the right thing. That’s when I look up and see Ireland staring at me talking to Jill and my eyes widen. Fuck.

  I lean in close to Jill and growl menacingly, “If you come near me again, I will call the cops and have you arrested for harassment. I mean it, Jill, no more.”

  Jill laughs, fuck. Ireland bolts out the door.

  “Go to hell, Jill.” She’s still laughing as I follow Ireland. She turned right, back toward the apartment. Where the fuck is she gonna go?

  I see her red hair disappear around the corner and I start jogging after her. I turn the corner and she’s already half a block ahead of me. “Ireland!” I shout.

  She doesn’t stop. I knew she wouldn’t. I pick up my pace. She’s not exactly running and I have no problem catching up to her and grabbing her by the arm, spinning her around.

  “Let. Go,” she snaps.

  “Stop it, right now,” I bite back.

  “Who is she?” She narrows her eyes at me.

  Fuck. “Nobody, she’s an old acquaintance.”

  “Looked a little cozier than just an acquaintance, Dyson.”

  She’s still saying my name, this is good. “Will you retract the claws, tigress, and let me explain.”

  Wrong choice of words. Ireland’s face turns red, literally, in anger. “You have exactly thirty seconds.”

  I sigh. “It’s going to take much longer than that.”

  “Well, then start talking.” She pulls her arm from my hand and crosses them over her chest. A jealous Ireland is a new sight to see, though not necessarily one I want to see, but the tiger that comes out is phenomenal to watch. I shouldn’t want to laugh but I do because she’s a damn tiger trapped in a human’s body with a temper to match her hair.

  “I met Jill…” I run my hand through my hair in frustration. “I don’t even know. It was a long time ago.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  “Fuck, VeeVee, yes, okay, I did. It was a mistake. A fucking mistake she’s still trying to make me pay for. A mistake that…” Her features soften a little bit, and I lose my train of thought and the steam I thought I had going into this. “She played me. Played me for a fucking fool.”

  “How?” she asks.

  “She tracked me down a few weeks after we’d…well, forget that, but she tracked me down and told me she was pregnant.”

  Her features harden again and I have to finish the rest of the story before she really runs away from me. That would be a valid reason to do so and if what Jill had tried to pull over came to fruition; Ireland and I might not be having this discussion or any others for that matter. “It didn’t make any sense to me. I’d used a condom. Hell, I even pulled out. That’s how I always fucking did it.” My anger is getting the better of me. “But I wasn’t going to be that guy. If it really was mine, then I wasn’t going to be that deadbeat asshole. Then things started not making sense. We’d only been together about a month before she came to me. I caught her coming out of the shower in my office and I noticed she was already showing a little bit. I knew that wasn’t realistic and I started to question her about it. She kept insisting I didn’t know what I was talking about. It was a fucking mess. I tried to force her to go to the doctor, do things, so on and so forth and she kept putting me off and I kept pushing her. Another couple weeks went by and she called me, said she was at the hospital.” I sigh, letting my anger deflate completely. I’m not mad at Ireland, I’m fucking pissed at Jill and telling Ireland this story is making me crazy. “When I got there, I talked to the doctor, got some more information and discovered she miscarried, but at the same time, my suspicions were confirmed. The doctor had called it a late miscarriage because she was riding close to twelve weeks.”

  I watch as Ireland’s features completely soften and her anger disappears.

  I continue, “She did everything she could to try and convince me the doctors were wrong. She played a guilt trip on me and suckered me into feeling sorry for her. At the end of the day, she’d lost a child, whether it was mine or not, and I’m not a total heartless asshole. Anyway, I took care of her for a few days afterward and I haven’t been able to get rid of her since. She came here, well, to the neighborhood, with the intention of coming to my apartment. She just happened to stop in here first.”

  “What did you say to her that made her laugh?” she asks me. She’s still angry, but I get the impression she’s not angry at me.

  I give her a humorless snort. “She saw us come in together. She was playing you. I told her if she ever came near me again, I was going to call the cops and file harassment charges against her.”

  “Truly?” she asks.

  “Always,” I breathe.

  She wraps her arms around me and mumbles, “I’m sorry.”

  I return her hug and kiss her forehead. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” I tell her as I rub her back. “Come on. Let’s go back to the apartment.”

  “I’m still hungry.”

  I laugh and reach for my phone in my pocket and pull up Byron’s number. He answers on the first ring, “Mr. Cole?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I relay to him the order from the restaurant and ask him to call it in and deliver it to the condo. He complies and Ireland and I walk back toward the apartment. She snakes her hand in mine as we walk and I can’t help smiling at her.

  “I’m sorry I ran.”

  “You should be. But next time,” I wink at her, “run faster.”

  She shoulder checks me and I laugh. “What are we doing, Dyson?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Us. What are we exactly?” she asks, her voice soft and curious.

  “First off, what did your friend want?”

  “Dodging questions now?”

  “Nope, just curious,” I tell her with a smirk.

  “He wanted to remind me about tonight,” she answers softly.

  “What about it?” I ask. What could Reese want with her tonight?

  “In my haste to come to New York, I completely forgot we had plans tonight.”

  I stop walking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She shrugs. “I didn’t think about it, honestly. I’d completely forgotten. So to make up for it, I promised him dinner on Tuesday.”

  “He’s okay with it?”

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly forthcoming on why I wasn’t in Phoenix. He’s going to do his best to grill it out of me.” She laughs, “It’s what he’s good at and he knows I’ll tell him because he’s Reese and nothing gets by him.”

  “So that’s why you’re asking what we are?”

  “That’s part of it,” she says as we reach the doorway to my building and I open it for her.

  “And the other part?” I reply as we enter the building and head for the elevator.

  “It’s what was on my mind in the elevator,” She confesses, and I remember her stiffening up on me when that woman got on and ruined my chance to discuss it with her. I should have used my key to bypass the floors but I didn’t think I’d need to. “The call with Reese and then my reaction to w
hat happened in the restaurant, it just solidified that I need an answer to the question so I found the courage to ask,” she states as we step into the elevator back up to my apartment. This time, I use my key and we’re whisked upward without stops.

  “What do you want us to be?” I ask her once we’re inside my place The truth is I know what we are, or at least what I want and need us to be, but I can’t possibly force that on her if that’s not how she feels.

  “I want us to finish what we started ten years ago.”

  My heart soars.

  Chapter 44

  Ireland

  “Leave Your Lover” - Sam Smith

  I stormed out of that restaurant in a fit of jealousy I’m not even sure I have a right to feel. I just know seeing her with him made me see green and red like never before. Even compared to back in high school and the bevy of girls that surrounded him then. I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way. I ran out so fast, I had no idea what I was doing. The minute I turned the corner I nearly stopped. Where was I going to go, how was I going to get there? I don’t have enough money to fly my ass home, no way of getting into his apartment without him and certainly no one in New York to turn to.

  When Dyson caught up to me, I wanted to be mad at him, but his brutal honesty floored me. I know we’ve been pushing it, and I’ve been completely honest with him, but I didn’t expect him to tell me all that, especially not there on the street. Sure, we promised to be honest with each other, but sometimes that honesty comes with secrets we don’t wish to reveal. When he wrapped his arms around me in our hug, then around my shoulders as we left, I secretly hoped she was watching. Just to show her I’m the better person in all of this.

  Instead of being mad at Dyson for the woman he was talking to, I was pissed at her and until I wrapped my arms around him, I’d been fighting my anger for the woman who’d done that to him. Who does that to someone? I can’t even wrap my head around it. But what I do manage to take hold of is the fact I have to find it, somewhere in me, to understand and accept the fact Dyson has a past. Unlike me, who only has Dyson.