Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia - Страница 34
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“No. Please, stop that. Ben is perfect, he’s the best husband a woman could ask for.”
Arsen laughs bitterly. “If he’s so fucking perfect, how come you’re talking to me and not him?”
I don’t like where this is going. Arsen shouldn’t blame Ben about my issues at all. They are mine. Ben has no fault in this mess.
“I-I think I should go.” I begin to move away from him, but Arsen stops me, grabbing me by the elbow.
“Hey…sorry. Don’t go. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry if I got carried away.”
We stare at each other for a moment.
“Stay.” He lets go of my elbow and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. “I promise I won’t say anything about your perfect husband anymore.”
I’m still debating when Arsen lifts our hands and plants a kiss on mine. “Please, I’ll behave. No more Ben bashing.” A smirk appears on his lips.
“Okay. But please don’t talk about Ben like that. I don’t like it. He’s not to blame at all.”
“Boy Scout promise. I’m here for you, Dimples,” he says as he caresses my cheek softly with his free hand.
I can’t help laughing. “Are you sure of that? We’re already fighting, and this is our first heart to heart.”
“Nah. I like feisty. And your eyes look like nothing I’ve ever seen when you’re angry. They are so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say as we smile at each other. I can feel heat radiating my face.Arsen gazes at me quietly. “I fucking love that I can do this to you.” He softly touches the crest of my right cheek, “Ben is so damn lucky.”
“I—”
The timer of his stove goes off alerting us that whatever he’s preparing is done cooking, and breaking the intensity and intimate moment we’re sharing. I can’t say that I’m not glad.
Without letting go of my face, Arsen shakes his head and smiles ruefully at me. “Guess it’s time to eat. Ready to be blown away by my culinary skills?”
“I’m starving. At this point, cardboard sounds pretty appetizing,” I say, grinning.
Arsen grins back. “Nah, I can do better than that.”
And just like that, Arsen is back to his usual self.
After he lets go of my hand, he makes his way to the kitchen.
“I hope you’re not allergic to Nutella,” he says, opening and shutting drawers and shelves.
“Nope. I’m not allergic to anything,” I answer as I make my way to the counter that serves as a table and sit down on a high stool.
Arsen places a handmade flat pizza covered in Nutella and slices of banana. It looks and smells delicious. “My specialty.”
“Oh my God. Arsen, this smells so good!” I inhale the sweet aroma of baked bananas and hazelnut.
When I’m finished eating three slices of the delicious pizza, I notice that Arsen hasn’t touched his. “What’s the matter? You haven’t touched your food.”
He’s staring at me with that funny look of his that raises the small hair on my back. “I’m just watching you eat.”
“Um, sorry. I’m starving, and it tastes so good.”
Arsen smiles playfully. “Not as good as you do, I’m sure.”
He pushes his plate to the side, moves forward, and lightly strokes my cheek.
“Maybe I should try,” he states simply.
Suddenly, none of this seems friendly. Being alone with him, the flirty banter, his touch...it feels like we’re hanging on by a very thin thread of what’s allowed and innocent, and what’s not.
With an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I move away from him and stand. “Um, this has been great, but I’ve got to go home.” I make my way to his living room where my coat and handbag are. “Thank you so much for having me over and listening to me. You have no idea how good it has made me feel.”
“Dimples...” He puts his arms on my shoulders, turning me to face him. “I was just teasing. Don’t be scared of me.”
“Um…I-I’m not.”
I lie because what just happened there freaked the hell out of me.
“Cool. So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” he says as he lets go of my shoulders.
After saying goodbye to Arsen, I make my way home. Taking my cellphone out, I notice it’s almost six in the evening. I can’t believe I was in his apartment for almost five hours and didn’t think once to check the time. Ben hasn’t called which means he’s probably still busy with work.
As I ride the train home, I decide not to tell Ben about my day if he doesn’t ask me for specifics. I don’t want to lie to him again, yet somehow, for the first time since I’ve met Arsen, I feel like I’ve done something wrong.
But how can that be?
We’re just friends, right?
Walking towards the exit of the building, I give Ben a call to let him know that I’m on my way to the bar to meet Arsen for drinks, even though I won’t be drinking any alcohol. I stayed behind because I needed to get in touch with Beth, Mr. Radcliff’s personal assistant in England.
“I can wait for you. I have to make some phone calls myself. Melissa left me a voicemail telling me she needs me to fly to Paris next weekend with her. Apparently it’s her movie premiere, and she needs me there holding her fucking hand like a kid while she ignores me for the photogs.” He throws his body on the couch, laying flat on his back. His white shirt is now partly unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his muscular chest and the outline of his butterfly tattoo.
“That’s incredible! I can’t believe you didn’t know. Her movie has been all over magazines and gossip blogs. You know this is a really big deal, right? People would kill to be there.”
“Well, I’m so damn over her. I don’t know what I was thinking when I got involved with an actress. They are full of shit and drama. The sex is fucking amazing, and she is hot as hell, but I can get that anywhere else. Now, a model may be—”
“Stop! Stop, Arsen,” I laugh. “Too much information. Just last week you said you were trying.”
“Fuck, I did. Didn’t I?” he says, groaning.
“Yep.”
“It isn’t working anymore.”
I grab a pencil and twirl it in my fingers. “Well, whatever you do about Melissa, please don’t do it here. I really need to get in touch with Beth. Why don’t you head over to the bar without me? You can talk to her on your way there.”
Groaning, Arsen gets up from the couch. “Fine. But I would much rather watch you make phone calls than deal with a prima donna. And that’s saying a lot.”
“Go!”
Grudgingly he leaves.
Silly boy.
After the uncomfortable incident in his apartment two days ago, I was worried that things were going to be different between us, but I’m glad they haven’t changed. The next day, Arsen showed up as if nothing happened and continued to be his usual flirty self. It’s great having a friend that you can tell all your secrets without feeling guilty about them. Besides Amy, he’s the only other person who knows how scared I am with the pregnancy.
I stop at the front desk of the building to say good night to Carlos and Frank, the security guards on duty. “Good evening, gentlemen,” I say.
“Good evening, Mrs. Stanwood,” Carlos says in a heavy Spanish accent.
“You look lovely as always, Missus. How is Mr. Stanwood? On your way to meet him for dinner?” Frank asks. Sometimes I find Ben shooting the breeze with Frank down in the lobby when he comes to pick me up. I think they bonded over their love for the New York Mets, or something.
I smile when I see the expectant look in Frank’s eyes. “Not tonight. I’m going to meet Mr. Radcliff’s son for drinks. I’m hoping that Ben will join me there.”
Once I say my goodbyes to the two men, I walk out into the street and immediately get hit with hot and humid air. The kind that makes you break into a sweat without moving a muscle. A typical Manhattan summer night. With my skin feeling clammy with the heat, I decide to take a cab instead of walking to the bar. After getting one and giving the driver the name and address of the bar, I can finally call Ben.
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