Chapter 28
Aoi
This isn’t going anywhere.
What was I thinking? Writing an autobiography on my pathetic existence is harder than I thought it would be, especially since I’ve forgotten a crucial part of my life.
Three years to be exact.
No one wanted to tell me what happened during those three years that my mind wiped out of my memory. I remember passing out in Jason’s arms when he found me bandaging my arm. I guess I had lost a lot of blood that day. More than expected.
I woke up in a hospital, and best believe I couldn’t remember anything before the razor blade cut into my vein. And when I tried, my head began aching agonizingly, so I stopped.
The girls tried to help me reminisce of the past but it was way too painful, and even they didn’t think my memories mattered more than my well-being.
The only one who never even mentioned that forgotten time is Jason. He preferred focusing on the present. I think he was just extremely disappointed in me and refused to acknowledge that I had tried to take my own life so stupidly.
My head is pounding from the gallons we drank last night. I won’t be getting wasted any time soon, especially not with Sally. That woman has the liver of a sailor.
I don’t even want to get started thinking about the time I spent with Andrew last night, because I fear I’m weaker to his charm than I thought.
Sipping on my cup of coffee, I let the jazz music in my earphones inspire me, but nothing comes. I stare at my computer screen, skimming over the last paragraphs I wrote and pondering about the ideal ending, but everything I come up with sounds mediocre at best.
My phone lights up, capturing my attention. My heart picks up the pace and jumps in my ribcage as I grab the device.
Andrew
Good morning. Did you sleep well?
ME
Good morning. I guess, yeah. You?
Andrew
Unfortunately, something was missing.
Don’t tell me he means me? And why the hell am I grinning like a damn fool? God, this is embarrassing.
The only reason I agreed to give him a chance was to stop him from making a scene, but I have to admit, he’s endearing and dangerously hot. When I think of him–which is rather often lately–it’s that damn smirk and muscular body that pops up.
Do I want to sleep with him? Absolutely.
Will I give in to this aching desire? Of course not.
I like the way he looks at me. Like I’m precious. The complete opposite of what I truly am. It makes me want to know how he’d look at me when I have my mouth wrapped around his-
“Holy shit,” I snap. “What the fuck are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me!” I clutch my chest and sigh as I stare back at Andrew whose smile is way too bright for my dull eyes. “Don’t do that again.”
“I was walking by and saw you through the window. Beautiful as always.”
“And you simply sat down?” I pluck out my earphones and lean back in my chair. “Besides, don’t call me that.”
“Why not? You are beautiful.”
“I know. Doesn’t mean I want to hear it from you while you’re looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
I scoff and shake my head, shutting my PC. “Whatever.”
“I love how you were smiling while answering my texts,” he teases, his wavy dark hair combed back and honey eyes shimmering with delight. The sage green shirt he’s wearing wraps around his perfect muscles when he leans forward. “Makes me think you actually like me, too.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I roll my eyes, folding the sleeves of my white shirt and accidentally revealing my scar. “I was smiling at a picture of Amira’s cat.”
Andrew’s smile falters as his eyes glaze over my forearm and I tilt my head, oddly at ease with his gaze on such a sensitive part of me.
“I think your friends don’t like me.”
“Sally adores you already because you’re rich,” I joke. “Elena doesn’t care as long as I’m happy, and Amira, well, she’s harder to please. She’s like my mother.”
He looks at me a bit bewildered and conflicted. “As in she acts like your mom or that she treats you like her son? What kind of person is your mother?”
My chest constricts at the memory of her bright smile and cheerful personality. “She illuminated every room she walked in. You couldn’t find a funnier and kinder person than her. Amira is more introverted, and calmer compared to my mom.”
“I see.” He smiles softly at me, grasping the implicit truth I’d rather not talk about. “What are you doing right now?”
Grateful for the change of subject, I smirk. “Look who’s being nosy. I was working–though I’m stuck and it’s really annoying.”
“Working on what?” he probs, his hand inching closer to mine on the table as he rests his chin on the back of his other hand.
I chuckle despite myself. “I’m a writer.”
“You write books? That’s amazing. Do I know any of your work?” His complexion lights up but the look in his eyes tells me he already knew.
“I use a pen name. You might have heard of me, but I can’t tell you what it is.”
“Why not?” he pouts, and I resist the urge to kiss him.
Jesus, Aoi get a grip.
“Because it’s confidential.”
His hand finally threads with mine as our fingers interlace.
Is it normal that I don’t hate it? On the contrary, his touch is as appeasing as sex usually is.
When I hook up with men and their hands knead my skin, I momentarily forget the pain and buzzing under my flesh, but once it’s time to let go, it all comes surging back into my mind like a colony of wasps.
Being touched out of sex makes me uncomfortable, because there is no logical reason to wanting any type of proximity with me. The only thing I can offer is my body. Being wanted for anything else is simply impossible.
Then why don’t I hate his tender skin on mine? Why am I not rejecting it? Why does it feel so good? So right?
Something’s wrong with me.
I pull my hand out of his and watch as his features falter, but he recomposes himself instantly. “Let’s go on a date.”
“What? Like right now?”
“Yeah, right now. You and me. I have just the right spot I want to take you to. Actually, more than one,” he says, getting to his feet and extending his hand for me to take. “What do you think?”
I hesitate, glancing at my computer then back at him but something in me wants to take that hand and follow him anywhere. “Are you going to bring me to Paradise again?”
“Not this time,” he laughs. “I want to show you the different faces of the world.”
“With you, that could mean anything.”
“Exactly. That’s why you’ll like it. The unknown mixed with a familiar presence.”
I sigh and against the shouting of that little voice in the back of my head, begging me to run the other way, I get up and gather my things. “I don’t know why I can’t say no to you. Maybe it’s your Prince Charming smile.”
His lips curl up, and I’m almost blinded by his angelic halo. “You’re the only one who gets to see this side of me, Aoi.”
“I don’t believe you.” I throw my bag on my shoulder and slip my hand in his as he leads us out of the coffee shop.
“You never do.” He reluctantly lets go of my hand to open the passenger door and I sit down inside the car. “But I promised I’d make you see how deeply my feelings for you run and I intend to keep my word.”
My heart thumbs in my chest, fumbling with the words in my mouth. I don’t answer and simply watch him settle behind the steering wheel.
I’ve never felt like this before. Warm and fuzzy. I want to see him smile more, want to listen to him call me beautiful as he gazes into my eyes like I’m the ocean and he’s the moon.
Do I have a crush on him?
Fuck no. There’s no way.
Okay, maybe a tiny one.
Fine, I do!
But I will stab my heart before I let it beat for someone whose life I will ruin if I stay around.