Mister West

by R. J. Lewis

  I finally meet his eyes, my smile gone. I stare deeply into his eyes, and then he’s spinning us around, moving closer to the lounge. I laugh when he pulls away, holding my hand to spin me around.

  Aidan knows how to dance.

  He brings me back to him and this time he dips his face down to a tender spot between my shoulder and face. I feel the slightest graze of his lips along my neck. By now I’m really moving to the music, and he’s gripping my hips a little harder, feeling my motion.

  Move for me, move for me, move for me ay, ay, ay…

  Every time I listen to this song, I will be thinking of this moment.

  He pulls away and looks down at me. I see his hunger. His eyes settle on my lips and he stares for a few beats before they settle back on mine. His face hovers close to mine, and now we aren’t moving at all.

  His hunger is met with resistance. He keeps pulling back and I’m letting him, even though I don’t want to, but I understand. The incident with Derek is still fresh. He’s a dark cloud hanging over us. I sense Aidan wants to talk about it, but he’s holding back.

  “Did you hurt him?” I whisper.

  It severs the moment, but we must talk about it.

  “No,” Aidan says coolly. “I wanted to.”

  “He just let you go?”

  That’s not something he would do. Derek is a fighter, especially when he’s drunk.

  “He said some things,” Aidan responds.

  “What things?”

  Now he frowns, and a dark look comes over him. “Don’t you dare go back to him.”

  I step back, and he lets me go. I feel a little misunderstood. “I have no intention of doing that. I’ve tried to leave him several times.”

  “I know it’s not my place, but I wish you would have physically removed yourself from there a long time ago.”

  My shoulders fall. I look away as guilt wracks me. “I know. I think I needed someone to push me, otherwise I would have kept taking it.”

  “He would have hurt you. Has he…” His teeth flare as anger surfaces in him. “Has he ever laid a finger on you, Ivy?”

  “He hasn’t beaten me or anything,” I say. “We’ve had tiffs before. He’s pushed me around.”

  “You were on that bed when I found you. Your hair was a mess. Did hepush you on there?”

  I chew my lip to stop my eyes from watering. “Yeah.”

  He simply nods, but his face is a storm. He leaves me standing there and returns to the kitchen. He’s pacing, tossing empty containers in the sink. I go to him and stand just beyond the island, watching him. He’s rolled his sleeves up. I see the thick cords in his forearms as he clears the island. I wonder what the rest of him looks like bare.

  When I look back at his face, his eyes are already on mine. He’s caught me watching him, but there’s no cheekiness in his expression. He just watches me back. The tension is back. Again, I’m standing just before the edge, and I’m willing myself to jump off, but I need Aidan’s lead.

  Dance Monkey is still playing, but I can barely hear it now. I swallow hard. My lips part to speak, but Aidan beats me to it.

  “Follow me, Ivy.”

  I take my phone and turn off the music. He brushes past me and leads me down a wide hallway. He goes to the first door and opens it. I enter after him. It’s a giant bedroom, probably half the size of my apartment.

  I’m staring at the bed and then him, wondering if he’s actually going to seduce me. Not that it would take much seducing. But he’s looking around like he’s inspecting the place instead.

  “I haven’t been here in a while,” he mutters, opening a closet door wide and then another door of the bathroom in the corner.

  “This isn’t your bedroom?” I ask, surprised.

  “No,” he answers, glancing back at me with a faint smirk. “I’m further down the hall, across from you.”

  “Oh.” Do I sound disappointed? I hope not.

  “There’s a full bathroom here with all the comforts already provided,” he then tells me. “And a decent sized closet. You’ve got a beautiful view here.” He moves to the blinds and opens them. “The sun isn’t as oppressive on this side in the morning.”

  Why is he sounding like a salesman?

  “What’s going on?” I ask, feeling silly because I don’t want to make assumptions. “Are you giving me the room for the night?”

  He turns to look at me. He appears…determined. “Not just the night, Ivy. For as long as you need.”

  I feel confused. “I’m not going to just crash your place, Aidan.”

  “Why?”

  “Ana is more than happy to take me in.”

  “You’ve mentioned her sister’s been giving her a lot of shit lately.”

  Oh, my God. He remembers that? I said it in passing forever ago. “Well…”

  “Or has that changed? Is Ana’s sister still there?”

  “Yeah, but I would have crashed her couch.”

  “That’s not necessary,” he says, shaking his head. “You’ve got a perfectly good room right here.”

  “Good room?” I repeat, baffled.

  He frowns. “Is it not good enough?”

  My eyes are wide. “This is too much, Aidan.”

  “Mr West sounds good too,” he returns, eyeing my lips again.

  I resist smiling. “Mr West.”

  “Even Sir.”

  Now I can’t stop the smile. “I’m not going to call you Sir.”

  There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “Not yet, but you will.”

  My face burns as I walk around the room. He watches me poke my head into the closet. I let out a laugh. He called this room decent-sized. It’s bigger than my freaking living room. It’s the poshest looking bedroom I’ve ever been in. I don’t tell him that, though. I pretend to look like I’m considering his offer. Of course I’m not stupid and I’m going to freaking bask in this space like a motherfucker, but still. Aidan likes when I play. I walk into the bathroom. Like everywhere else, it looks like it’s never been touched, and yet it’s filled to the brim with the nicest bathroom products.

  Is this real life?

  I step out of the bathroom and stand there, feeling like a rock is in my throat. The emotion overwhelming me is sudden. I swallow it down, but it’s not working.

  “Ivy?” He sounds concerned, but he’s not moving to me. He’s standing stiffly now beside the window, hands back in his pockets.

  “This is sort of a lot to take in,” I explain, plastering a fake smile. “One minute I was…back there…getting screamed at, and the next I’m here, with you, being offered a room. It’s a lot, Aidan.”

  He nods once in response. His eyes are soft as he regards me.

  “I don’t want this to be an impulsive offer on your end,” I begin. “It’s why I resisted before, the night in the rain –”

  “I’m not being impulsive,” he interrupts, sounding certain. “I know what it means having you here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He doesn’t waver. “Yes.”

  I believe him.

  I walk to the window and notice the way he shifts away as I draw near. It’s strange considering he was dancing with me just minutes ago. I look out into the night sky, still processing.

  “I know it’s a penny in the ocean for you, but I want to pay rent while I’m here,” I tell him. “I’m not a sponger.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “You can turn me out if you ever feel like I’m a burden to you. All I ask is you give me fair warning.”

  “You’re not a burden.”

  “I can clean up, too. Pull my weight around here.”

  “Do whatever you want to the place.”

  “If you’re ever unhappy about something I do –”

  “Stop, Ivy,” he cuts in, whispering, staring at me like…like I’m everything. “Stop.”

  I look back at him, my heart beating fast. “Thank you, Aidan.”

  His face looks so gentle, it’s still not
an expression I’m used to seeing on him. “You’re welcome.”

  I bite my lip and return my gaze outside. I need to pinch myself.

  I’m going to be living with Aidan fucking West.

  It’s not the name and what he stands for that I’m excited about. After all, I have strategically avoided the internet so I don’t look him up like a stalker.

  I just really, really like him.

  He’s been the center of my world for a few months now, ever since I met him on that plane. I haven’t gone a single day without thinking about him, and now I’m not going to go a single day without living with him.

  “Is this going to end in disaster?” I wonder aloud, looking over my shoulder at him.

  He’s so fucking serious, it’s doing crazy things to my heart. He’s watching me like I’m a wonder to him. I swallow hard. I’m burning, burning, burning.

  “No,” he tells me like it’s a vow. “I’ll do everything in my power to make this work, Ivy.”

  Why do I have a feeling he isn’t talking about our living arrangement?

  I make my rounds again, peering into drawers, all the while Aidan stands by, hands in those pockets, watching, waiting.

  Yeah, we’re both waiting, aren’t we?

  Twenty

  Ivy

  I can’t sleep.

  I’m in a bed fit for royalty. I’ve had the best shower of my life. Aidan even got Gaston to drop me off a new set of pajamas because in my frenzy to leave Derek, I had only shoved some work clothes in my bag.

  Speaking of Derek, zero messages from him. Nothing even from my mother who would have known about this as soon as possible. Derek’s a talker. He would have turned to his mother, and his mother would have turned to my mother, and it would have been a zoo right now of family drama.

  I wonder if he’s okay.

  Stop thinking of him, Ivy. He’s fine.

  So, I stop. I focus all my energy on myself. I’ll get a journal tomorrow. I’ll write my thoughts down because my head is firing in all directions. Maybe if they’re on paper, I’ll understand where I’m at.

  Yeah, that’s an excellent plan.

  I shut my eyes. I should be able to sleep. I’m comfortable, I’m tired, and I have to get up super early for work. But…I can’t stop thinking of Aidan.

  The cocky man I have begun to know so well was not present tonight. He was…soft. I can’t stop thinking of the last words he said to me right before he left me to sort myself out.

  “You’re not a bother, Ivy. You’re a spark in my dark world.”

  I’d still been standing by the window, taking it all in. His parting words hit me right in the chest. He left before I could respond.

  Since then, I’ve been alone, and I’m not used to it.

  In my apartment, as tiny as it was and as tense as it was, I could always hear Derek or the neighbors thumping around. If I didn’t hear any of those, the streets were always busy with cars zooming or horns honking or people hollering at one another.

  Here, there is total silence. The streets are alive, but you can’t hear it.

  It’s nearly midnight and I’ve tossed and turned half a million times. I slip out of bed and open my door. I poke my head out, straining to listen to any sort of movement. This place is too huge.

  I can’t hear anything. I look in the direction of Aidan’s bedroom, and part of me feels so tempted to just go to it and knock. How many times did he tell me he wanted me? Has any of that changed now that I’m here?

  I wonder if he’s sleeping.

  I step out and linger for a while.

  A noise comes from the other direction. They’re light sounds. Footsteps so faint you would have to really strain to hear. I follow the sounds, moving past the kitchen and lounge. Just beyond the dining room there is a hallway and more rooms. This place is endless.

  There’s a faint glow coming out of one of the rooms. I hear shuffling sounds. I slowly approach, nervous. I’m out of my comfort zone here.

  I peer in. It’s a huge office, packed to the brim with more books and filing cabinets. There’s a giant mahogany desk and sitting behind it, just beside another giant window, is Aidan. He’s showered and his hair is wet. He’s wearing a loose white shirt and his hand is running through his hair. He’s looking down at a bunch of papers, a frown etched on his face, like he’s not liking what he’s seeing.

  Jeesh, it’s past midnight and he’s still…working?

  I think to leave, but I don’t get the chance. He looks up and stills when he sees me. I wince, an apology at the tip of my mouth, but his face clears, and he smiles at me.

  “Hey,” he says softly, dropping a paper in his hand. He leans back in his giant leather chair. “You okay?”

  I smile. “More than okay.”

  “Found everything you needed?” His eyes are running along my wet hair.

  “You mean showering? Yeah, it was all there, thanks.” I clear my throat. “Sorry for interrupting. I just couldn’t sleep.”

  “It’s okay, come in,” he tells me. “Have a seat.”

  “I’m not intruding?”

  “No.”

  I walk in and take a seat on a deep armchair in the corner.

  “Is the bed comfortable?” he asks me.

  I nod. “Yeah, all of it is perfect. I just can’t sleep with all the recent changes. I didn’t know silence can make you feel so lonely.”

  “Silence does that.”

  “How about you? You look like you’re working.”

  He nods. “I’m looking over some investments. Things I can sink my teeth into on the side.”

  He doesn’t look interested in the papers anymore. He’s back to looking at me with his deep brown eyes. I feel my blood warm.

  “Is your job not time consuming enough?” I ask him curiously.

  “It’s not that,” he explains. “It’s not stimulating anymore.”

  “Because all the hard work is over?”

  He looks impressed. “Exactly, Ivy.”

  “What would stimulate you then?”

  I immediately regret my words. That sounded so dirty.

  Aidan’s seductive smile spreads slowly as he peers at me with mischievous eyes. “That’s the question.”

  My cheeks warm. “What are some of your interests?”

  He glances at the papers, his brows coming together in thought. “I like building from the ground up. I like earning my success from scratch. I get a certain rush out of it.”

  I shoot him an odd look. “That’s not a response I expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  I shrug. “Most men cash out, don’t they? They’ve done what they sought out to do, or they let the company run itself. Then they go on doing other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, you know, have rich hobbies. They’ll sail, or fly planes, or drive really fast cars. I know for a fact you love your cars.”

  He nods. “I do.”

  “Not enough to race around in them all day?”

  “No. I’ve spent too long trying to build all this.” He looks around, a strange expression taking over now as he searches for words. “Now that I have it, it feels…meaningless.”

  I listen carefully, understanding. “Maybe that’s why you want to go back to what you know.” I gesture to the papers. “You’re searching for safety.”

  His brows shoot up. “Safety?”

  “You need this white noise, maybe to distract yourself from the meaningless stuff?”

  He doesn’t respond for what feels like forever. He’s considering my words, so the silence isn’t awkward.

  “Is that what you did?” he asks.

  He means Derek.

  “I went back to what I knew,” I answer, nodding. “It was familiar.”

  “Do you still care about him?” There’s no hint of emotion in his voice. He’s trying very hard to hide it as he studies me.

  “Of course. I was with him eight years,” I tell him. “He was all I knew. I was a
ll he knew. It doesn’t mean we were right for each other.”

  Now he looks like he’s trying to understand. His brows come together slowly. “What made it so hard to let go? Because it couldn’t have been just the familiarity, or even the trauma bond.”

  “Trauma bond?”

  “It’s a cycle of abuse. You create an emotional attachment to your abuser. You’ll endure the highs and lows. When it’s good, it’s fucking amazing, but when it’s bad, it’s the worst. During the worst, you cling to the good in that person. When the bad blows over, the highs consist of being pampered and love bombed. You kept thinking the best in him, didn’t you?”

  I take a moment to process his words, stunned by how accurate all of it sounds. “I didn’t want to hurt him.”

  “But he hurt you.”

  I nod. “It doesn’t make sense out loud. I can’t explain why I took the pain as much as I did. I think you’re right, I kept thinking it wasn’t him. I kept waiting for the good again because it felt so good when the fights blew over and we were on a high together. I… humanized him when I don’t think I should have.”

  “You humanized him because of your empathy?”

  I give him a funny look. “Do you not know what it’s like to stick around when you shouldn’t?”

  His eyes narrow as he studies me. “I don’t.”

  “You’ve…never been through it? A bad break up or…a long relationship?”

  “No,” he says, watching my reaction carefully. “I’ve put my company first. I never had time to fall in love.” He smiles now at my expression. “You don’t like my response, Ivy?”

  “You think it’s time that makes you fall in love and not circumstance that’s out of your control?”

  “Are you referring to destiny?”

  I shake my head. “Not necessarily. I’m talking about your day-to-day meeting people, going places, interacting with women. You’ve never met someone that just struck a cord in you?”

  His chest slows as he looks me over. “I have.”

  I think he’s talking about me, but I can’t be bold enough to think that with certainty. I feel almost scared to be disappointed.