Touched (8 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning I awoke full of energy.  Kellan and I had come back to the condo last night and watched sitcoms, drank wine and laughed like two teenagers. How weird was it that I was enjoying a sleepover at my age?  This clearly meant that I needed a social life.

“Hey, do you want to work out with me?” I asked, walking into the kitchen. He was pouring a cup of coffee.

“Sure, I’ll get changed and meet you downstairs.”

I trotted down the stairs with a silly grin on my face. I was in a great mood. Everything wasn’t as I would have wanted but they weren’t as bad as they were last night. Walking into the gym, I flipped on the lights and swiped through the control panel in search of a workout playlist that I hadn’t heard in a while. I made a mental note to create a few new ones. I turned toward the exercise equipment, deciding to take some time with the tread climber.

Kellan walked in sporting shorts and a t-shirt. Allison was right, he was a hottie. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t already known that but I had a difficult time picturing him as anything more than a friend right now. But damn, with a body like that, I was sure he could do some serious damage in the bedroom.

I was typically all for detached sex but even that seemed less than appealing now. I was looking at so many things with fresh eyes … reevaluating my views on relationships, friendships and sex.

He looked around. “What do you recommend?” he asked.

“Anything that allows me to fixate on those amazing muscles,” I replied, smiling.

“What? These things?” he asked, flashing a sexy dimpled smile.

“How often do you workout?” I asked.

“Typically three to four times a week. What about you?”

“The same. Maybe more if I’m stressed.”

“You seem to have it all together; I can’t imagine you having much stress. Well, at least I didn’t until last night.”

“I honestly didn’t until recently. But I thought we had agreed to put last night behind us?”

“We did and we have,” he replied.

I watched as Kellan stretched, his muscles flexing as he reached one hand over his shoulder. He was somewhat more muscular than Aiden. I never understood how these hot ass guys were still single. Kellan was a dream … totally hot, successful, great sense of humor and easy to talk to.  There was no way he’d be single for much longer.

“Hey, you didn’t have a tattoo in St. Barts,” I said, inspecting the impression on his bicep.

“Nope, I didn’t.  A few of the guys had the novel idea of getting tattoos the night before the wedding,” he replied.

“A group of wild drunken guys doing God knows what the night before a wedding. I’m sure there’re stories there.”

“One could say that,” he laughed.

“What does yours mean?” I asked.

“It’s the Japanese calligraphy for strength.”

“Oh. I recognized the symbol but not the interlinked embellishments. I like it. I may get one.”

“Seriously?” he asked.

“Yes. Does that surprise you?”

“Sort of. I don’t figure you as the tattoo type.”

“There is no type,” I said.

“Sure there is,” he countered.

“Are you the type?” I asked

“I have one, don’t I?”

“What type am I if not the type to get a tattoo?” I asked.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked.

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“That you did. Okay. The person I’m getting to know seems to be very careful and methodical; people like that don’t normally get tattoos.”

“Is that all? You made it sound as if you were about to insult me. Maybe that’s the person I was but no longer wish to be,” I said.

“That remains to be seen,” he replied.

He was right; although I was joking there was some truth to my statement. I no longer wanted to be that safe, careful girl. I wanted to live in the moment … enjoy my life. Make real memories.

He stepped on the treadmill and after a few strides, he was jogging. I studied him from head to toe. He was a very appealing man and under different circumstances, he and I would have already been going at it and although I still welcomed the daydream, Aiden’s naked body appeared and blocked out everything else. Would I ever be able to have anything sexual with another man or was I destined to an eternity of one B.O.B. after another? That reminded me … I needed to get a couple of new friends. Guess I’ll be scrolling on my favorite sex toy site tonight. I sighed and started to move on the elliptical. Damn you Aiden!

*****

Kellan left for New York shortly before 6’oclock with the promise of seeing me when we all met up in Barbados.  I wasn’t sold on the idea yet. April texted earlier saying she thought it was a great idea, which was surprising considering she and Blaine had called it quits.

The remainder of my weekend was spent enjoying several talks with Mom, Lia and Bianca. It wasn’t without its awkwardness and I did sometimes pull back, but we were starting to feel more at ease with each passing day. I was hoping to get some type of idea as to what I could make for them for Christmas. Like Mom, if I wanted to allow time for error, I needed to get started on it as soon as possible.

*****

A last minute schedule adjustment left Aiden in town for the next three days meeting with different teams … meetings in which I had to be included. I wasn’t as nervous about it as I would have been before my realities set in. Reality number one: I still had feelings for him. I’d accepted the depth of my feelings but I hadn’t planned to do anything beyond letting time do its thing. I had employed the methods that worked previously ... minimal eye contact and absolutely no personal conversation.  That worked to a point but he was consistently inconsistent ... and that worked against me.

Reality number two: I wanted to fuck him … a lot. He was always Mr. Fuck Me … that goes without saying, but there were different versions. He was mesmerizing, humorous and playful at times.  Then there were those times when he was in total billionaire CEO mode and that’s the person I was starting to see more often, the person that made it easier to stand my ground, but not today. The display of power and confidence was pulling me to him. It was an aphrodisiac I hadn’t accounted for.

It was day two; Aiden’s last meeting was with me. I waited until we’d reviewed every item on our agenda before I proposed my idea to him. We would conduct a contest similar to the TV show, The Voice. It would be ninety-five percent virtual in our case, hosting a contest for a different genre each quarter. The contestants would be required to submit specific pieces that are forwarded to all editors of that genre. The editor bids on a contestant and the contestant would be paired with an editor of their choosing who would mentor them and provide content and developmental critiques.  At the end of the quarter, one author is chosen for a book deal. After the conclusion of the first year we would have a new author’s book released every quarter possibly more.

“I like this idea. It’s actually brilliant. Of course, we would have to get the appropriate checks in place … R&D, legal and marketing,” Aiden said.

“That’s already been taken care of. I’ve been meeting with the teams for a while now,” I said.

“So I’m the only holdup?” he asked.

“It would appear so.”

“If you would have come to me with this sooner we could have already had this in place. Was there a reason for the delay?”

“I was still on the fence with my decision to stay here.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

Was he fucking kidding me?

“The first few weeks upon my assuming this position, I was forcefully immersed into the storm that was Chicago Brown every fucking day and then as soon as he left, you were back in town. That type of oversight doesn’t exactly instill the confidence that I thought you had in me when you strong-armed me into his position. If you felt I needed to be watched every day, why do I have this position?”

“Aria I don’t feel that way at all. I think you misinterpreted the situation.”

“Whatever Aiden. I eventually decided that if I couldn’t lead this company in the manner that I saw fit, I should leave this company, regardless of your ability to restrict me from working elsewhere.”

“So you’re still pouting over that?” he asked.

“Pouting? Is that what you think I’m doing? Do you really expect no reaction from people when you bulldog them? Obviously you’re accustomed to having
everything
your way.”

“Not with you it would seem.” He walked over to the bar and poured a drink. “Would you like one?”

“No, thank you,” I said.

“I’d like nothing more than to have my way with you. Right here in your office. But since you’re obviously opposed to that …” He walked back over and took a seat.

And how I would love to let him. It was mind-boggling how we diverted conversations to terribly inappropriate topics and bounced right back into business.

I needed an orgasm so desperately that I damn near jumped from my chair and demand he do just what we both wanted. But what would follow? I didn’t want to find out so responding to his offer was not the best of ideas.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come to me sooner with this. Certainly you know that whatever it is you
think
I’m doing to you comes second to a sound business decision.”

Oh asshole, I don’t
think
you’re doing it. I
know
you’re doing it.

His phone rang.  He pulled it from his pocket to see who was calling and answered. He held up a finger excusing himself as he stood and walked over to the window. I busied myself with some notes for The Writer as I waited. At the conclusion of his conversation he assumed the seat across from me.

“I’m afraid we’ll need to table our meeting until later this evening. Brooklyn’s set up a video conference that I need to be in on. I would like to tie this up before I leave tomorrow so if you can get the appropriate papers and background information to me I’ll review it with you tonight over dinner at my place.”

Huh?

“Let’s say 7’oclock.”

I opened my mouth to object but he turned and walked out of my office. Dinner at his place? I hardly think that’s necessary. Why couldn’t he and I have a video conference as well? Did we have to be face to face to
tie this up
? I considered several alternative options for a few moments but came up with nothing of which he would agree. Fuck it. I’d go. I’d get in and get out within thirty minutes or so.

I rushed home after work and started on my plan to repel all non-business tactics. Maybe I was overdoing it but the ends would justify the means. I’d planned it all. What I’d wear. What I’d say when he opened the door. Where I would suggest we sit. All of it. And I’d be damned if it didn’t all go out the fucking window as soon as I saw him.

“Good evening, Aria. Come in,” he said, standing in the door way. His undiluted scent assaulted me as the air from the motion of the door sashayed its way to my nose.

“Hi.” I followed him inside. He was barefoot; wearing jeans and a snug black t-shirt that showcased his sculpted arms. He looked amazing. I, on the other hand, looked just the opposite. I had scrubbed my face clean of all makeup, thrown on some sweatpants and tossed my hair in a messy bun … all part of my plan to get-in and get-out … untouched.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he offered.

“Yes, please,” I replied on instinct.  Oh fuck, that should’ve been a no. “On second thought, I’d better not.”
He spun around shocked by my change of mind. “It’s just wine Aria. It’s not as if I’m asking you to strip of your clothing and allow me to pour it over you and lick it off ... however, if that’s a scenario of which you have interest, I’m sure we can work something out. ”

“You bastard,” I knew he’d do this but I didn’t expect it as soon as I walked in fucking door.

“What? I offered you something to drink; I hardly think that justifies name-calling.”

“If I were any other person you wouldn’t have said that,” I said.

“But you’re not just any other person.” 

I looked into his intense green eyes and I knew I needed to run.

“I thought a drink would put you at ease. You’ve been wound pretty tight lately; I was merely attempting to help,” he said, shrugging it off.

He was his most charismatic in situations like this and the part of me that enjoyed the game we once played gave in. “Let’s forget it.”

“Consider it forgotten. So what about that drink? Shall I pour you a glass?” he asked.

“Sure why not?”

“Good,” he said, taking in my appearance. He smirked as he turned away.

Yeah, soak it all in asshole. This is
all
for you.

I grasped the strap of my carrier bag and pulled it over my head and reached for the wine he extended and took a sip. “I know you said you wanted to do this over dinner but I’m really tired so if we could just finish this up so that I can get home, that would be great,” I said. That was part of the plan; to tell him I was tired so we could move things along without any weirdness.