NERTHUS
I’m so angry at him that I’m set on giving Owen the last piece of me nobody ever had.
I don’t care if I’m doing it out of spite, I just need him to be out of my system.
“So, here we are.” Owen smiles at me as he parks his car in front of my alibi building.
“Home sweet home.” I chuckle as I turn my body towards him. “Would you like to come upstairs?”
He grimaces shortly before he moves his head away from me.
Oh, no!
“I’d love to, Aria.” He says as he looks back at me like the boy with the tuba who is about to break up with the girl from the math club.
Because he talked to the quarterback about her!
That fucker!
“I’d really, really love to.”
I force a chuckle as my throat dries out. “So, why don’t you then?”
“We still have something to discuss. I guess this will determine how this evening will end.” He says, making me keep back with an eye roll.
All the women are out here complaining all the time about how they find men just wanting to do one thing instead of talking. Yet, I find only the fuckers that want to do all the talking instead of just fucking in silence.
Next time I’ll ask where I can sign up as I’m sick of all this talking.
“Okay. Go ahead.” I say, leaning against the cold leather of his sporty car.
He grins awkwardly before he faces me again. “Did you take a break from the escort business because you got married?”
“I didn’t exactly get married,” I answer while wrinkling my nose.
“But you had a thing with Arawn Rodberg.” He completes my sentence with a groan.
I nod, causing him to sigh and lean his forehead on the steering wheel. “It was a rather short and very toxic thing. I don’t think it is even worth mentioning.”
“Well,” He pushes out a laugh, pointing his hands towards him. “He thought it was worth mentioning it. To me. And…”
He grows silent as he passes his hands through his hair. “Is there any problem with it?”
“Yeah, he is my fucking business partner. I really like working with him. What do I say, I need to like working with him. I don’t want to make it awkward by fucking his woman.”
Scrunching up my nose, I say in a high-pitched voice, “I am not his woman!”
“I don’t know, Aria.” He shakes his head, looking out of his window. “He made it very clear that he was still interested in you.”
“He is just being an ass.” I scoff, making him look back at me. “He isn’t interested in me whatsoever. It is just his little pride getting in his way.”
Taking my hand, he turns towards me, his shoulder leaning against his seat. “I really like you, Aria. And I might be willing to endure an awkward working situation, but I need you to be honest with me.”
“Honest about what?” I ask as he squeezes my hand.
He clears his throat, looking away from me shortly before meeting my gaze again. “If you were to find out that he wants you back. That he isn’t playing but really wants you back. Would you be happy about it? I mean… Would you go back to him?”
“If I’m dating another man…”
“No! This isn’t going to be some philosophical question. Because I don’t doubt your integrity. I know that if this between us got serious you wouldn’t play with me. But this is not my question.” His eyes bore into mine and he looks as if he wanted to get out of this car at least as much as I want to. “My question is simple. If it was just you and him, and he wanted you back. Would you?”
Gulping, I lower my head, clasping my clutch tighter with my free hand. I would like to not answer him, but I hate that he asked for the truth, and I guess he deserves it.
“Probably,” I whisper as I meet his gaze again. “I don’t know what it is because he certainly doesn’t like me, and I’m far off his league. But I guess that my heart, soul, and body belong to him.”
He closes his eyes as he lets go of me. I shake my head as I raise my eyes to the car’s roof. “You would have been my chance to get him out of my system.”
“I don’t think that would be possible.” He says lowly, making me look at him again.
He smiles at me sadly, tilting his head at me. “I saw you together. Even if he hadn’t said it to me directly, I saw that it wasn’t over for any of you two.”
“I’m so sorry, Owen,” I whisper, leaning forward.
Grabbing my chin gently, he moves his thumb over my cheek to catch a falling tear. “Don’t be. I enjoyed the time I spent with you very much. And even if it was short, I will love thinking back to it.”
I nod, and he leans closer to kiss me. Reciprocating the kiss, I hold onto his shirt until he breaks it with a smile. “Good night, Aria.”
“Good night, Owen. Thank you for this lovely evening.”
After getting another sad smile, I get out of the car and into my building without turning back. I don’t dare to do so even though I hear him starting the car only as the entrance door is already closing behind me.
Pushing out a deep breath, I lean against the closed door as soon as I entered my apartment. I stroll to the kitchen leaving a trail of shoes and clothes behind me. Opening a bottle of wine, I don’t even bother to take a glass as I sit on the counter to drink from the bottle.
As I’m feeling tipsy already, a bit from the rose and champagne of the dinner, and a bit because of the half-empty bottle in my hand, I open my bag to pull out my phone.
Even though I know I should keep my pride and not text him to show him that I have been stood up, I do it anyway.
Show me how much you want me, big boy.
Taking another swing from the bottle, I shoot him my first text.
Amber: Do you still want to come over?
My heart beats painfully in my chest as I wait for his response to get delivered to my screen. As usual, it doesn’t take long for him to text back, and I take up my phone with a deep sigh.
Mr. Entitled Asshole: Why? Was his dick this unsatisfying?
Throwing my head back, as I was actually expecting this kind of answer, I groan and take another sip.
How else should he react to such a thing?
Amber: He didn’t get upstairs with me.
This time it takes him a bit longer to respond, but it suits the way he makes me feel like an idiot.
Mr. Entitled Asshole: So, you are just looking for an idiot to fill in the gap?
I groan before I type my response.
What does he need? Come over already.
Amber: I would have needed some overwriting too. But whatever, Arawn.
Taking a sip from my bottle, emptying it, I jump off the counter and stumble to my bedroom.
As I let myself fall onto my bed, I nearly don’t want to check my phone as it vibrates beside me.
But as if I could ignore a text of his.
Mr. Entitled Asshole: Use soap.
Laughing to myself, I throw my phone onto the floor before I cuddle into my bedsheets.
Whatever, asshole.