Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг .txt) 📗

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 fucking 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 The smile has been replaced by a scowl.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 fuck 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 fucking them first. Maybe you should tell Amy to find someone who isn’t married to replace you, because apparently fucking is all I’m good at.”

It’s his vulnerability that he’s trying to hide so hard behind his playboy facade 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 fucking awesome. I mean it. And you’re right. I don’t usually want to be friends with the girls I fuck. I just fuck 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 fucking 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.