Arsen: A Broken Love Story Page 12

When I feel hot air hit the back of my neck, a prickle of awareness runs down my body settling in the pit of my stomach. I immediately open my eyes to see Arsen standing next to me. He’s watching me with a playful smirk on his lips, and his distinctive blue eyes shine brightly. I can see the light blue colors mixed with green sparks in them.

Um, what is he doing?

“Morning, gorgeous. Ready to teach me how to be a man? You know, break me in?” Sarcasm is dripping off his voice, yet I sense the laughter behind it.

A little flustered and a lot pissed off by his words, I just nod and move away to put some space between us, which isn’t possible given that we’re crammed in this small elevator. Arsen must know that his greeting rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was his purpose all along because he closes the space I just created by standing close to me again.

Crossing my arms in front of my chest in a defensive stance, I’m about to move to the front of the line when I feel his warm hand wrap around my elbow, pulling me back to stand next to him. Heat shoots up my arm, scalding me like boiling water. Stunned for a moment that he would touch me without a care to physical boundaries, I lift my gaze to stare at him.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he lowers his smiling mouth to whisper in my ear, “Chill, Dimples. I’m just teasing you…”

I want to say something, but nothing comes out. His mouth is so close to my ear that I can feel the fullness of his lower lip graze my earlobe. Annoyed at the reaction of my body, I turn to look at him as I wrench my arm free of his hold. “Keep your hands to yourself, kiddo. Now back off,” I hiss back.

He throws his head back as he laughs, so I’m able to observe the thickness of his neck and the way his broad shoulders flex as they shake with laughter. I scowl at him. I want to grab my bag and hit him with it in the head. Maybe he’ll stop laughing then. Maybe he’ll get a concussion. Maybe that’ll erase the stupid smirk off his face. I’m giving the idea some serious thought when the doors open, letting people off. I look up at the number and realize we still have a long way to go. I snake through some people until there are about three or four bodies in between us because I don’t want to be standing next to him anymore. Take that, pretty boy. Smiling at my success in getting rid of him, I consider possible methods of how to put him in his place once we get to the office. I’m thinking about burying him alive in endless paperwork, assigning him to the most clueless intern we have amongst other painful possibilities, when I feel hot air breathing down my neck again.

“Why, hello there. Fancy meeting you here again,” he murmurs in my ear, his voice playful.

You’ve got to be kidding me!

I close my eyes in frustration, trying to summon all my power to put him in his place once and for all. He said no flirting! When I open them, I slowly turn around to face him. The angry words get stuck in my throat, never leaving. Standing behind me in all his blond glory is an innocent looking Arsen with a shit eating grin on his beautiful face and a challenge in his eyes. He wants me to play his silly game with him.

I want to end it, to be the adult and remind him of the pact we made and how he was going to back off and behave. But something inside me tells me this is an Arsen trying to play nice. This is an Arsen trying to be friendly and nothing more. With one hand in his pocket, he props his shoulder on the wall, reclining his body lazily against it.

“What’s the matter, Catherine? Cat got your tongue?” He lifts his free hand to run through his hair; it looks so soft. “You know I’m just f**king around, right? I never go back on my word. And like I said the last time I saw you, I can get pu**y wherever and whenever I want.”

I feel my face burning. Doesn’t he realize we’re not alone?

“You’re stuck with me for however long my father chooses to teach me a lesson, and I like you, so let’s try to get along. I think we could be friends if you can forget and move on. Like I said in the car, it’s never going to happen again. Trust me, Dimples. I know when no means no.” He moves away from the wall so he can stand in front of me, towering over me. I feel at a disadvantage in this position.

“Stop calling me Dimples. And if you truly mean it, stop calling me gorgeous and invading my personal space. I don’t appreciate it,” I say as I look up into his amused eyes.

“You have dimples, Dimples. Pretty f**king perfect ones, if I may say so myself. And I like getting in your face. You look very pretty when you’re angry,” he says softly. “You blush, and it kind of makes me want to do it more.”

Okay.

As I process his words, I watch him closely. He’s looking at me with this expectant expression on his face, like a kid asking for an extra piece of cake when he knows he shouldn’t.

About to answer him, two more passengers get off the elevator muttering to each other, “If Blondie doesn’t give up the goods, that piece of fuckable ass better stick around because—”

“Shh, they might hear you. That’s Arsen Radcliff! I read somewhere he’s never had a girlfriend; he only screws arou—” The doors close before we get to hear the rest of the sentence. I glance at Arsen noticing that he looks pissed. The smile has been replaced by a scowl. Now he looks like the kid who didn’t get the cake.

“Um, Arsen…”

“Don’t say anything until we get off.”

“Okay.” Where did funny and teasing Arsen go?

When we get off, I see that as late as I thought I was going to be, we’re the first people to arrive. I turn to look at Arsen as I feel his large hand settle in the small of my back, propelling me forward.

“Come with me.” There’s an authoritative bite in his voice. For a moment, I’m taken aback because he sounds like Ben. Older.

He takes me to the coffee room, not letting go of me until we are inside the room and the door is closed behind us. Running both his hands through his hair, he exhales a frustrated breath.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean for those women to think I was hitting on you.” He smiles ruefully at me. “For once, I was trying to play nice, but what do you know? They all thought I was trying to f**k you. If strangers assume that bull, I can see why you don’t believe me. Hell, maybe I don’t have it in me to be friends with anyone without f**king them first. Maybe you should tell Amy to find someone who isn’t married to replace you, because apparently f**king is all I’m good at.”

It’s his vulnerability that he’s trying to hide so hard behind his playboy façade that finally thaws me out completely towards him. Yes, I can understand why people see him and assume the worst. He is beautiful, perfect even. He is young and affluent, and he sleeps with famous women. I can see why women see him and think fuck-prize.

Most of it is his fault. I mean, I don’t think anyone has held a knife to his throat and ordered him to walk out of a nightclub with three models surrounding him as they head back to his apartment. No one told him to screw his way around the socialite phone book. But his words let me catch a glimpse of what’s underneath it all. The bad boy who does as society sees him; who gives them what they want.

Trying to lighten the mood, I tease him. “Seriously? You think I’m going to give up the chance at bossing you around? No way. After everything you’ve put me through, I think I deserve to make you suffer.”

His eyes brighten. “You’re not pissed off at me anymore? Not even after what those women said?” Disbelief is written on his sweet face.

“Well, I meant what I said before. But I think you tease and flirt with women who you feel comfortable with, who you don’t want to sleep with. When w-we met the first time...” Am I really going to go there? I think so. I need to explain the difference in the Arsen from that night and the Arsen standing in front of me.

“You didn’t tease me. You didn’t flirt with me. You, uh, you just came on to me aggressively, and you didn’t apologize. I’m not sure how to explain it, but something has changed. I believe you when you say you want to be friends, so as long as you keep your hands to yourself and don’t invade my personal space, we’ll be okay.”

He shakes his head as his powerful smile sparks the whole room. “Dimples, you are f**king awesome. I mean it. And you’re right. I don’t usually want to be friends with the girls I fuck. I just f**k them and—”

“Leave them,” I finish for him. I should be offended with the way he treats women, but the way the crests of his cheeks are blushing bashfully at the moment make me want to give him a hug instead.

We smile at each other.

Later, when I come back from lunch, I find a box of cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery sitting on my desk. Smiling, because Ben never ceases to surprise me, I open the card lying on top of the box and read the message, expecting to find the handwriting that I know by heart. I find an unknown instead.

A hot redhead told me you love cupcakes.

A.W.R****

“Hey.”

Standing in the diner close to work, I turn around when I feel a light tap on my shoulder, coming face to face with a smiling Arsen.

“Hi,” I say, returning his very contagious smile.

“What’s up, Dimples?” Arsen asks, putting his hands in the back pockets of his pants.

“Uh, I’m here to grab some lunch.”

“Cool.”

He watches me expectantly. I immediately get the feeling that he wants me to invite him to have lunch with me. Would it be odd if I did? No, I don’t think so. We work together after all.

“Would you like to join me?”

Arsen grins. “Only because you asked, Dimples.”

“Seriously? What am I supposed to do? Let you eat by yourself?” I ask, incredulity resonating in my voice.

“Nope. I know you’re a softie at heart who wouldn’t let me eat alone. Now stop whining and let’s get a table. I’m f**king starving.”

We laugh and make our way to the first empty table we see. I notice the way women stare lustily at him as we walk past their seats, and I can’t say that I blame them. The guy is truly gorgeous.

As I watch Arsen, I reminisce about the past month since the elevator incident. I guess you could say that a sort of friendship has started to develop between us, even though he flirts with me all the time. If he was any other man I would be concerned, but the guy seems to do it with anything that has a skirt and a pair of stilettos, so I know not to take him seriously and let myself enjoy some harmless flirting. Besides, I’m always laughing at his silly jokes.

He is truly a nice guy when he isn’t trying to get in your pants.

Once we get to the table, Arsen pulls out a chair for me to be seated. After quickly scanning the restaurant, I sit down and watch him make his way to sit across from me.

“So, what’s new?” He’s watching me closely while he spins a fork on the table.

I grab a napkin and start making shapes with it. “Nothing, really. Ben and I spent the weekend at our summerhouse on Martha’s Vineyard with some friends.”

While nodding at me in acknowledgement of my answer, Arsen pulls his cell phone out and begins typing on the screen.

“Cool,” he says as he continues texting.

“Um, how was yours?”

Looking up with a mischievous smile on his lips, “It was fucktastic. My friend Alec and his band played, so I got lots of groupie ass. Best shit ever. It’s crazy what some of those girls will do to get backstage.”

“Oh. That sounds like fun,” I respond, blushing. I can’t figure out why I’m always blushing whenever he talks about his personal life.

It’s not like I care.

Arsen stares at his hands and replies softly, “It was fun while it lasted.”

At a loss for words, I get the feeling that something is bothering him, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I’m about to take his hand in mine when his phone rings.

“Would you mind if I get this?” he asks politely.

“No, go ahead. I’ll look at the menu in the meantime.”

I open the menu and begin to go over the specials, trying to give him as much privacy as possible. I don’t want him to think that I’m eavesdropping, but that proves to be near impossible when he’s sitting no more than three feet away from me.

“What’s up, baby? I’m at the diner with Dimp-Catherine,” he corrects himself.

He waits for a moment, listening to the other person speak.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Raincheck?”

“Okay…I promise. I’ll make it up to you. Anyway, gorgeous, I gotta go. My food just got here. Ciao.”

After he hangs up, Arsen throws his phone carelessly on the table and stares at me.

“Sorry about that, Dimples. I guess I was supposed to meet someone for lunch and completely forgot about it.”

“You could still go meet her, you know? I won’t mind…” And I truly won’t. I feel guilty because he’s here with me and not with his date.

Lightly rapping his fingers on the table, Arsen randomly changes the subject. “Do you like listening to Muse, Awolnation?”Taken aback by the abrupt change in topics, I ask him to repeat his question.

“Oh, yes. I love them both. Awolnation’s last album is amazing though. Some of my favorite songs are Wake Up, and Burn It Down.”

“I think Madness by Muse is f**king genius. I’ve seen them live a couple times, and they are f**king brilliant,” he says, smiling at me and running a hand through his hair.

“You always do that.”

“What?”

“Run a hand through your hair. Is it a bad habit, or do you just like touching your hair?” I tease him.