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Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia - Страница 15


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Besides his wasteful beauty, I notice that there’s a very girly pink butterfly tattooed on his skin, right where his heart is. I want to laugh because really the tattoo defies everything that Arsen stands for.

I shake my head and decide to step in because I most certainly don’t want to spend my evening with him again. I can’t wait to get back to Ben.

I smile at the thought of Ben.

Charles must notice it because he asks, “What is it? Ah, you’ve seen The Tattoo? Yes. It’s quite comical, the story be—”

Oh, no. I don’t want them to assume that I was checking Arsen out, which I was but not really.

“No, that’s not it at all. Sorry. Your talk of dinner plans reminded me of something my husband said.” I don’t look at Arsen when I mention Ben. I stare down at my rings, which I made sure to put back on this time, when I say, “Would you mind very much taking a rain check, Arsen?” I lift my eyes to finally meet his and I’m taken aback by the look in his face.

He seems to be pissed.

Ignoring him, I address Charles, “Unless you would like to stay...” Charles seems to get the hint because he turns to Arsen. “Sorry, buddy. Seems that the beautiful lady already has dinner plans. How about—”

“No. Actually, never mind. I just remembered that there’s something I have to do in the city. Would you mind very much if we rode back with you?” Arsen asks me. The way he’s looking at me makes me think he’s daring me to say no to him.

Whatever, two can play this game.

“Sure. I don’t mind at all. But how about your friend?” Arsen crosses his arms on his chest, and an impish smile appears on his face.

“Oh, she won’t mind. We’re done here.” He looks to Charles, “I’ve shown Amanda every room in the house. She loves it.” Glancing in my direction, his teasing eyes land on my face again. “In fact, she begged me to come...back again.”

“I’m sure she did. It looked like she was enjoying herself as she tested the sturdiness of your father’s desk.”

Take that, asshat.

But instead of pissing Arsen off, he bursts out laughing. “It was sturdy alright. Perfect for—”

“There you are! I’ve been...oh, hi.”

Amanda is wearing Arsen’s missing shirt and nothing else. Not even blushing or trying to button the shirt closed, she makes her way to him. As she stands on her tiptoes to kiss him, the shirt tugs up, showing her perfect, cellulite-free ass.

Seriously, that is not possible.

“I’ve been looking for you. You said you were going to get some water, so when you didn’t come back, I decided to come and find you.”

She pouts, her fingers lightly touching his chest. Arsen wraps one hand around her tiny waist and pulls her closer to him. Leaning down, he kisses her behind the ear while Charles and I watch. I don’t know if Charles is as uncomfortable by the situation as I am, but I try to avoid watching him kiss her. Instead, my eyes land on his free hand as it sneaks up her thigh and disappears under the white shirt.

I smile to the girl and don’t bother to look at Arsen as I greet her. “Hi. Nice meeting you, Amanda. My name is Cathy, and this is Charles. He’s decorating the house for Arsen’s mother. Anyway, it seems that we have detained him long enough. I’m sure he is ready to get back t—”

“Amanda, get yourself ready. We’re leaving with them in a few,” Arsen says, blatantly interrupting me.

The girl’s confusion is written all over her face. “But...I thought we were meeting Alec and Sali for dinner and drinks?”

He lets go of her waist and speaks dismissively to her, “Forget that. Change of plans. Don’t fuss, Amanda. I hate that shit. Now, go get ready.”

Amanda leaves the kitchen, hopping away on her perfect legs. Soon it’s just Charles, Arsen and myself again. Though, I have to admit that I forgot all about Charles for a moment there.

My companion seems to sense a weird kind of tension in the room. “My boy, that is no way to treat such a lovely lady. Are you sure you want to ride back with us? It seemed like you were having an awfully good time with her. I would hate to end your tour.” Charles voice is dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah. I’m done here,” Arsen snaps back, then turns to look at me, a scowl on his face. “If I say that I want to ride with you, I mean it. I don’t appreciate it when people butt into my damn business.”

Oh. Seriously, I’m, what, five or six years older than this guy, yet he is talking to me like that? No way.

“Listen, kid...you can do whatever you want, but remember it’s my car.”

Arsen and I stare at each other for a moment. The energy this time around is so different from the restaurant, a silent challenge to see who will back down first.

It sure as shit won’t be me.

Arsen must know I won’t be intimidated because he backs off, the scowl gone off his face, replaced by his boyish grin. He turns to look at Charles. “She’s a feisty one, dear uncle, but I guess I deserved that.”

“Yes, my boy. I think you did. Now, go get ready. I’m not looking forward to sitting in traffic,” he replies, laughing.

“Yes, sir.” Turning to look at me before he leaves, Arsen says, “Sorry about that, Dimples. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I know he’s apologizing for his rudeness, but somehow I also know that he is apologizing for everything.

I smile. “Whatever.”

Arsen: a broken love story - _21.jpg

When we get to the city, I drop Charles first, then make my way to Prince Street where Arsen’s loft is. After Charles got out, Arsen made his way to the front, sitting next to me as I drive through the crowded streets of Manhattan. Arsen and I don’t speak to each other. He just stares straight ahead as I drive.

I’m relieved that I don’t have to carry any sort of conversation with him.

And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Arsen is avoiding making eye contact with me, which is crazy talk. This is the same man who basically invited me to cheat on my husband with him.

Amanda hasn’t stopped talking, though. Looking at the rearview mirror, I see her twirling her black hair around her index finger, the bright yellow color of her nail polish peeking through the strands of hair. She’s talking about an audition she had for a Broadway show. Apparently Miss Spread Eagle is some sort of singer and dancer.

So not my thing.

For one, I cannot act, and if you have ever heard me sing, you would know that I belong in the back alley with a bunch of stray cats screeching at the top of my lungs.

As Amanda keeps going on and on, I can’t help but wonder if she knows what silence means. You know? Just you and your thoughts. She should give it a try sometime. She may like it.

When I park in front of his building, Arsen turns to look at Amanda in the back seat, telling her to go ahead without him, and that he’ll meet her in a few. After a quick, nice meeting you, I hope to see you again...not, a chirpy Amanda, with her very long legs and perfect cellulite-free ass, gets out of the car, making her way to the entrance.

As she walks into the building, I notice the way male heads turn in her direction, following the every move of her Sports Illustrated body. I can only imagine the amount of saliva being wiped off chins after all the drooling that just happened.

And this is the kind of girl Arsen is used to dating.

A disinterested Arsen watches her retreating figure until she disappears inside the revolving glass doors of his building. Once she’s out of sight, he turns his aqua eyes over my way, connecting with mine for the first time since we left Westchester. An indescribable awareness passes between us by that one glance, thickening the air in the car with an almost tangible tension.

The stampeding images of his naked body having sex run through my mind like a herd of animals with no clear direction or purpose, just trying to cause havoc within me. Clearing my throat to try and break the tension filling the car and hide how uncomfortable being alone with him suddenly makes me, I turn to look out the window.

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