Chapter 4
Aoi
I step into the dimly lit bar and am immediately greeted by Sally’s over-the-top enthusiasm. “Aoi! You’re finally here. Oh my God, come meet the others!”
She drags me toward their table, where Amira and Elena gleefully wave at us. Both women have been in a relationship since college, and honestly, I’m still waiting for one of them to propose to the other.
“Still as cute as always, aren’t you, Aoi?” Amira teases, as her girlfriend presses a kiss to the back of her hand.
“Can’t compare to you, Ami.”
She giggles and gestures for me to sit. Her dark skin contrasts with her blue eyes and her satin dress of the same shade. Goodness, she breathes elegance and beauty.
Elena, on the other hand, still presents herself in a more masculine way.
Her blonde hair is tied in a half-up bun, and she’s wearing a simple button-down and mom jeans. She’s living proof that a woman is by no means required to be feminine in order to exude gracefulness.
Sally and I take a seat around the table and order our drinks. She’s unsurprisingly already tipsy, while Amira and Elena are taking it slow as usual.
“What have you been up to?” Amira asks, letting her Bengali accent slip.
‘It’s easy to remember’ by John Coltrane Quartet plays in the background as I take a sip of the Negroni I’m served before answering, “Mostly focused on work. Nothing special. I’m sure you ladies have more interesting things going on in your lives, though.”
Sally pushes two strands of ginger and blonde dreadlocks behind her ears. “I met a guy, actually, but I’m not sure if it’s going anywhere. Elena and Amira are still the same lovebirds, but at least they don’t ditch me to go on dates just the two of them!”
Amira laughs brightly while Elena playfully nudges her. “Anyways, I’ve been promoted to HR manager, and we adopted another cat. Look! We named her Coco.” Amira shoves her phone in my face, showing me the thousand pictures she took of their new senior cat. “Isn’t she cute?”
I can’t help but smile. “The cutest.”
“I know, right?” Elena chimes in, equally delighted.
We spend the next three and a half hours laughing and talking about everything and nothing, reminiscing about our college years and planning more nights out together.
I’m having the best evening in a while until a wave of loneliness crashes into me.
I knew this feeling of happiness wouldn’t last forever and I’d eventually go back to feeling like crap, but still I wish it lasted longer.
Like in every story, there is always an end to every chapter.
I’m already on my fifth drink. The sweet taste of alcohol is slowly starting to kick in, and with it comes the strange clarity of a horny, tipsy man.
I can see the way a bunch of men’s gazes devour me with more lust than a dog in heat.
Rachel wouldn’t like me hanging around other women or going to bars, since it could ruin her little lie–but I’m tired of this nonsense.
I’ll tell her our deal is over when I get home.
I hadn’t paid attention at first, but now I realize we’re in a gay bar. It makes sense, considering Sally and Amira are bisexual, and Elena’s a lesbian.
I’m not desperate to the point of picking some random lustful male in a bar, but I do feel like going home with someone tonight. I scan the room for a potential suitor and…bingo. I hunt down a handsome snack sitting at the counter.
A broad back and silver hair make me smirk. I sneak a glance at him as he turns to the side, and oh my God, he’s handsome. He must be in his thirties, at most, and is definitely my type on paper.
There’s only one thing left for me to do, and that’s catch my prey.
I rise from my seat next to Sally. “I’ll be right back.”
She acknowledges my words with a cheerful nod and goes back to giggling with the others.
I march alluringly to the counter, swaying my hips as I make my way to him and take the seat next to the good-looking man.
Feigning indifference, I order an Espresso Martini, fully aware of how he’s eyeing me like I’m some piece of candy he can’t wait to figure out the flavor of.
Men are so easy.
They want someone hard to get, so they can have a good chase, but without having to work too hard to earn their prize. I like my men submissive and devoted, so fuck the chase.
If he doesn’t want me, I don’t want him. Plain and simple.
I nonchalantly take a sip of my drink, and as he slowly turns to face me, I don’t spare him a single glance until he dares to speak.
“Need some company?” he asks in a seductively dark voice. “Seems like you do.”
The longer I observe him, the more he fits my taste. His voice is making me wonder how his moans sound when his cock is lodged deep inside me.
Aoi, keep the freaky thoughts under control please. Have some decency.
I peek up from the dark liquid and turn my attention to the fine man burning a hole through my temple.
“Are you any good?” I mock, glancing at his lips for a split second before looking back into his lustrous eyes.
A husky, devilish low chortle escapes his lips, and I can’t hide the soft curl tugging on mine. The intensity in his tempestuous eyes softens as he leans back in his seat next to me, signaling the bartender for a drink of his own.
“I sure am, but the only way to know is to try me out.” He taps his finger on the counter, his eyes never leaving mine.
There’s no need for a shower of words when our bodies express so clearly what we need from each other.
His eyes roam my face, taking in every inch before meeting my gaze. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I doubt you came here on your own. Am I wrong?”
“You’re not,” I reply, casually taking another sip of my drink and playing with the base of the glass. “What about you? A man like you wouldn’t be unattended either.”
Based on his behavior and the aura emanating from him, I can tell he’s a player. Too bad I’m a sore loser.
“I just came back from a business trip, so I drove here to decompress. Nothing better than a nice cocktail and some good company to…relax,” he says, gaze narrowing over my silhouette.
“I see.” I tilt my head to the side. “Just my luck then.”
I glance at his expensive watch on his left wrist, barely exposed under his burgundy button-up, yet sparkly enough to catch my attention.
Seems I caught a wealthy fish.
He notices my focus wandering to his accessory and thus pulls up his sleeve. “It’s a-”
“A Patek Philippe, I know,” I interrupt, not needing an introduction to a piece of jewelry I know far too well. “I have to admit that it is beautiful.”
His eyes widen before he bursts out laughing. “A connoisseur, hmm? I’m Aiden Morgan.”
I recall the significance of the name Aiden having roots in Irish mythology and bearing the meaning of ‘little fire’.
It fits him.
“Not really. I’ve just seen that model not too long ago and found it especially nice.” I hold out a hand to shake his. “Aoi Holden.”
I take in his features and how perfectly they fit together, and the longer I stare, the more I wonder if I know the man.
He could be a model with that face.
He smirks as though he’s aware of the trail of thought going through my mind when the realization hits me like a truck.
He’s THE Aiden Morgan.
I’ve seen him in a ton of magazines and read about him acting in a bunch of well-known movies. Too bad I don’t really watch movies. The man is a renowned actor and model, yet I hadn’t realized earlier because I can’t be bothered to remember celebrities.
More like I was too busy feasting on his beauty to think.
Shit, that changes everything. Getting involved with a celebrity a few weeks before the press conference will only cause trouble.
“You’re…Well, that’s a shame.” I sigh, downing my Martini in one gulp. “A real shame.”
Aiden’s brows furrow in confusion. “I genuinely thought you were pretending not to know me at first. But seeing your reaction, you really didn’t know who I was when you approached me?” he asks, baffled.
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place.” I gesture to the barman and settle the tab. “I should go.”
I hop off the stool and begin my walk of horny shame, but to my surprise, he stops me, firmly holding on to my wrist. His cocky attitude leaves room for hidden offence and confusion as he gets up, looming over me.
“Why are you leaving? Usually, my profession makes people want me more, not run from me,” he jokes, but doesn’t loosen his grip. “Don’t act hard to get, thinking I’ll chase you.”
I glance at his fingers wrapped around my skin and frown. What a shame. Those wide hands could have landed on my naked body if only he had been a regular handsome guy.
“I apologize for giving you the wrong impression, but I’m not interested in getting involved with a celebrity. I don’t especially like unwanted attention, if you know what I mean.”
Aiden’s expression shifts into a bright, astonished smile as though my words awaken something in him. I dread whatever he’s thinking and yank my arm away, striding out of the establishment.
I fucked up by recklessly flirting with a stranger simply because I was horny. If I had figured out sooner who he was, I would have gone back to my friends, but now I’m just on edge and have no way to scratch that itch.
I pull out my phone and text Sally to apologize for leaving abruptly, making up a stupid excuse about an emergency, hoping she won’t call my bluff.
I don’t like lying to her after how nice she’s been for inviting me out, but I just have to get away. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’m a bad friend. They’re aware of my shit behavior, I think. Amira is the only one to have called me out on it back in the day, though.
The night breeze hits my nostrils as I step outside. It sends shivers down my spine as I head toward my car that’s parked further away. I relish the few echoes of voices from passing strangers, not having to focus on my urgent need for a fuck or my pathetic negative thoughts.
The ease doesn’t last long before I sense a hand on my shoulder spinning me around, and gorgeous silver hair swaying in the breeze. “You want someone for the night, and I’m free. I don’t get why you reject me because of my fame.”
Of course, he doesn’t understand. To him, I’m just a simple guy looking for a one-night stand, but I can’t just get involved with an actor and land my dumbass at the center of a scandal right before my identity is to be publicly revealed.
Now this can go two ways: either I give in, and we have some casual sex, or I go home alone, and only if my desperation is that crippling will I call Jason and use him.
I don’t especially want to prove him right. I’m horny because of the drinks, and the ache won’t leave until I’m fucked brainless. Honestly, either way, I’m getting laid.
A dick is a dick.