"Vienna," Bernard's eyes widened watching me take a seat next to Kyst and he offered his hand for a handshake. "How are you?"
Taking his hand in mine, I shook it sternly. "Mr. Black," I nodded as a greeting and took a seat in the chair Kyst Archer had pulled out for me.
The last time I'd seen Bernard Black, I hadn't been able to scrutinize his features well enough. Back when we had been fifteen, Bernard had black, ruffled hair, his style had usually consisted of normal jeans and hoodies, sweatshirts and converse.
Looking at him now, as he sat across the table, his legs folded at his ankles, I clearly saw the contrast from earlier. Even though we were only twenty-five, I could see the wrinkles on his forehead, make out the tired creases across his eyes, the dark circles, his entire face which was usually cheerful, now was just a scowl.
Things had changed. Even more so after how I went from loving Bernard to absolutely hating him in a matter of two days. My heart still palpitated the same way it did the moment he got me another Starbucks after I had accidentally spilled mine before school.
Then, my heart had raced because Bernard had been this mysterious, sunshine boy I'd seen for the first time in my life and no questions asked, he'd immediately risked getting late to school for getting me a coffee on the first day itself.
Now, my heart beat faster because the same fifteen year old boy that made me laugh made me want to launch myself at him and slap him across his face for what he put me and my family through. My father's company had gone bankrupt because of him. I had lost my mental health for the upcoming years because of him. My relationship with my parents had been tattered to pieces because of Bernard, because my parents had warned me multiple times to be careful with him but I'd just walked straight into his trap and ruined everything that I had been, that I had believed, that I had wanted.
He took away my virginity, stripped me off of my innocence. Consensual it had been, but the trauma that followed it, I hadn't expected that that was the extent businessmen fell to, to achieve success. He had not only ruined me and my family, but had also erased any and every desire I had of love.
Love had been my biggest enemy of it all while growing up. I had never gone to a prom, never asked a guy out, never attempted to date, never seeked a boy out, did nothing. Because everytime I had tried to work up my courage and thrash my past beneath my feet, a question had popped up from the dead in my brain : Is it going to be worth it?
In the end, was anything ever worth it if it cost you what made you you? The answer had always been pretty explicit : Never. Not again.
Until. . . . Kyst Archer. My blue-eyed menace. My. If my eighteen-year old self could hear my thoughts right now, she'd pat my cheek and very calmly ask me to fuck the right off because business men didn't fall in love, they merely made it into business deals.
There were clear examples in front of me : my father had only married my mom because of a land he had had his eyes on and he'd get it as a wedding gift from my mom's dad if he had agreed to marry her. A year later, that land had been in my dad's name and my mom's life had been signed off to my dad.
Bernard had only ever "fallen" for me, the quiet, introverted nerd with daddy issues, for his own selfieshness. His greed. His company. His name. His father's name. And then I had been left cold and alone to rot.
Was there a guy that cared about a woman more than they did themselves—
"Kyst," Bernard's voice sliced through my inner monologue as he continued, "I'm so glad you could make it."
Kyst Archer— my boss, the dude responsible for every flutter of my heart and every hitch in my breath— smiled easily in Bernard's direction and flagged the waiter to order us some spaghetti and garlic bread before jumping right back to work. "What have you thought about this new proposal I sent you over through mail yesterday?"
Kyst just switching from his friendly, lighthearted tone to his husky, deep, I-am-the-one-boss voice was so incredibly hot and left me bothered more than I'd like to admit.
Kyst shifted in his seat a little, the tiny wooden chair proving useless by being unable to accommodate his huge frame, forcing him to spread out his long, sleek, muscled legs infront of him, to keep his body upright and not smash his leg straight against the opulent looking table. In the simplest words, Kyst Archer— the actual embodiment of hotness— sprawled on his chair, manspreading himself and sent instant— instant— tingles to the core of my belly.
Clenching my thighs together at the weirdest sensation, I heaved a breath, suddenly feeling a pair of eyes of me. Realising I had just been caught staring at my boss's crotch by the devil himself, I straightened my spine and looked straight into his ocean-blue eyes, hesitance tightening my features.
"You like?" he raised a brow, sneakily raking his glance across my body, stopping a second longer at my breasts, watching them expand and deflate as I took quick breaths in short successions, the temperature in the centralised air-conditioned cafe getting ridiculously high, making it super hot.
Kyst Archer was huge. And not just his biceps and toned back or the muscled front, but even waist down he was huge. He had these bulky, stone like thighs that couldn't be achieved without going to the gym. Even though I hadn't touched them and my fingers tingled with the need to just poke them— thank you, lust— just by the way his thighs flexed under my observation, he gave away just another factor of himself that I was insanely getting attracted to.
Bernard, for a fifteen year old hadn't been bad in bed at all, but ten years later, now, feeling myself get aroused at the mere thought of my boss's thighs and muscles— as ridiculous and absurd as it sounded— clearly, he had done a piss poor job at. . . . whatever he had done to me for me to have been so crazy about him.
Instantaneously, the sound of a chair scraping across the floor filled the air and with a muttered apology and a quiet "I need to use the restroom", Bernard took off in the other direction, leaving me and my lust-induced brain with the man behind the broken wheels of my brain himself.
Kyst smirked coyly and leaned across to pluck a menu card from my side. His chair shifted closer to me, the right arm of my chair kissing the left one of his. One of his palms curled over mine that had been gripping the side of my chair for dear life and my breathing picked up.
He bent across his waist, entirely invading my personal space and his cheek caressed mine in the softest whisper before I felt his mouth on my ear. Goosebumps erupted on my skin like a fucking wildfire and the area between my legs clenched, aching to be paid some attention.
The place we were at, the soft background music, the clatter of utensils, hurried steps of the waiters hustling around with the customers' orders, the honking of the cars outside of the cafe, the soft bell ringing up ahead indicating people's arrival and every other thing that wasn't Kyst Archer morphed into something like a nonexistent lint on a piece of cloth as I felt the tip of his nose run along my jaw.
I turned my face away to the side, giving him more place to explore. My breath got stuck right in my damn throat when Kyst turned my palm over and interlinked his fingers with mine on the arm of my chair. "Do you feel it too?" he asked, his voice a mix of winter and summer, equal parts cold and chilly with a side of hotness and infinite hope.
"Feel what?" I asked, slightly withdrawing my head back to look him in the eye, to see if the desperation in his voice was reflected on his face too, to feel his sapphire eyes on mine.
"Like a zap of electricity just running straight down from your head to toe?" He poured all of his huskiness, broodiness, all that hot nonchalance, crazed touches from his office a couple hours ago into that one question.
My eyes never left his as I did the one thing he hated the most in the world : I lied. "No."
Feeling the crush of a million tides washing over my heart, I watched his eyes darken and then soften all in a second. One moment his hand was curled over mine affectionately and the next, he was framing my face between both his palms and in the softest of his voices, he whispered, "No?"
When I shook my head, albeit hesitantly, he ran his index finger across the length of my arm, tailing every moment with his eyes, then rasped, "So these goosebumps," he circled one of the icicle looking spot on my arm and then traced his thumb over my bottom lip, enunciating a shudder from me, "these broken breaths, these little shivers," he looked back to my eyes with so much intensity, it would have knocked me down had I not been sitting in my chair and murmured, "it's all a lie? Your body is reacting differently to me than your brain is, Vi darling, isn't it?"
Was it worth it? I though as I looked at his lips. Was it worth it getting my heart broken? I thought as I gently leaned into his palm cradling my face. Was it worth the grief I'll have to face once he decides he's done with me? I thought as I stared into the beautiful heaven of his eyes.
Was it? My answer had always been the same and there was no doubt in my mind that there was absolutely nothing that could change it. It was not worth it.
My physical and mental health hadn't been a priority to me growing up so I let Bernard manipulate me and gaslight me into moulding myself to his preferences.
But now, years of therapy and hardship later, I realised that nothing mattered to me more than my own self and my happiness. While Kyst was extremely attractive and half the time I was with him I wanted to jump his bones, in no way did that mean I wanted to risk my sanity and my precious health and strip myself bare infront of him only for him to discard me in the trash months after.
So I lied to myself and him and did the only thing I found sane : Push his hands away from my face, maintain liable distance and focus on work.
When Bernard came back from the washroom two minutes later, he glimpsed from Kyst to me, then back to him and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Is everything between you two okay?"
Kyst looked at me just as I looked at him and I could swear I saw hurt and regret flowing past his eyes. Then without taking his eyes off mine, he let out a chuckle and mumbled, "When has it ever been?"
Not taking much consideration to Kyst's jab at me, Bernard continued on with the meeting for the next hour.
As we exchanged goodbyes, I soon realised that the cashier I'd found cute at the register the first time I'd come here with Kyst was no longer cute and my attraction for my boss, instead of depleting had only grown double, if not more.
And the pained rejection hurt me more deep in my heart than it could ever hurt him.
Was I fucked yet?
||
Savannah Martin soon-to-be Taylor was perched on my ugly couch, eating popcorn and watching Netflix on my television when I entered my house in the night, tired and wanting to retire to bed.
She glanced up, her eyes dancing over my features and she got off the bed to get me some water from the kitchen. Sighing, I slumped down on the sofa and groaned just as the sofa grunted in protest under my weight. I paused some horror shit of a movie Sav had been watching on my TV and accepted the glass from her as she settled besides me.
Draining the glass of water, I wrapped my arms around Savannah and she circled hers right back, giving me the comfort I so desperately needed.
There hadn't been many times in the past when I had sought comfort but every time I had, I had usually run off to Sully's house. When he shipped himself off to London, I submitted my rage, my wrath, my grief, my annoyance, my vulnerability, all of it to Savannah and she accepted it in the best way she could : By hugging me.
"You okay?" she asked, bringing a kernel of popcorn to my lips and popping them in my mouth. "You look like shit."
Chuckling at her playful tone, I pulled back and settled comfortably on the couch— at least as comfortable as one could settle with it constantly making noises— and popped another popcorn in my mouth. "Then I look perfectly fine. What are you doing here tonight? Shouldn't you be with Sul?"
"Hey, Vienn, I know this is a weird time and all, but I need to ask you a question," she murmured, flatenning her palms under her thighs and sitting on them. Taking one of the popcorn kernels from the bowl, she flicked it in the air and bent forward to catch it with her mouth. And then she looked at me, nervousness brimming the tops of her brown eyes.
Thinking of the worst scenarios immediately, like the pessimist I was, I threw my hands up in the air, panic tightening my features. "Did Sully do something? Where's that asshole? I'll kill him today—"
"What!?" she exclaimed, pulling me down from the stupor of my entirely unnecessary aggression and said, " No, no! Sully and I are fine. This is about you." When I suspiciously raised a brow at her, she fumbled with her hands.
"Out with it," I said, frustrated and tired.
"Are you bringing someone to our wedding? Like do you have a date already? Look, I know it's rude and all to ask, but like, seriously, no, wait, are you dating someone? If you're dating someone, this is really awkward and I should really apologize, oh my god, you know what I'll just leave, where's my purse— oh my purse, right there, ouch— hey," Sav swatted my arm harshly as I pinched her while she blabbered like a fucking parrot.
"What are you saying, Sav? Just tell it to me clearly, okay?"
"So, you remember Sammy? My cousin? My third aunt's second son?" she asked hopefully and twisted around to face me, pulling her legs under her butt, getting comfortable.
Sammy. Yeah. Like I could ever forget him. His cousins called him Smelly Sammy because no matter what perfume he used, he always smelt like rotten fishes and boilt broth. But even so, he had the sweetest personality, the oiliest dark hair, a button nose and huge, round, blue spectacles always sitting on his nose.
"Yeah, I do. What's up with him?" I treaded carefully. I had no idea where Savannah was headed with this because clearly it was something important if she was here at eight in the evening when she could have been having dinner with her fiance.
"So like for my wedding, you know it's happening soon, like look at my engagement ring," she shrugged, again getting off kilter here so I slapped her palm and tipped my chin to get her on point. She sighed a defeated breath, one that screamed no good and let it all out, "So all my cousins are bringing their dates and poor Sammy has no one to bring to, right? So. . . I kind of told him I'll talk to you and see if you'd like to be his date and you know. . . you know he likes you- what!? Don't look at me like you want to kill me. You know you don't. . . . or do you? Oh my god, I really can't tell. . . . "
"Savannah," I started meekly, softly. As much of a sweetheart Sammy was, I had zero interest in being his date. Hell to the fucking no dude. And it had nothing to do with him smelling bad— okay it of course had everything to do with it— but like come on, why would I want to kiss a man that smelt like rotten fish? I'd rather eat sushi. "Please don't tell me you told Sammy I'd be his date. Or I honest to God will bury you alive. Right now."
"Jesus, you're so scary," she laughed half-heartedly, fully aware I wasn't lying (I actually was) and rolled her eyes as she muttered, "Chill, I told him you'd only go with him if you didn't have a date. But. . . . since you don't have a date, I think you should just go with Sammy. I don't want you to come alone anyways, it's a win-win, Vienn."
"And who told you that I don't have a date?" I pushed her on, knowing full well I didn't, in fact, have a date.
"Sul told me you've been single and after those conversations about Bernard, I thought— I thought—"
"That I didn't have a date," I finished for her, my tongue suddenly tasting acidic. She isn't wrong, my heart piped. You don't need a man to break your heart again, my brain argued. But I also didn't need a Smelly Sammy by my side the entire wedding of my bestfriend, so I did the only thing I'd been getting really good at these days. I lied, "But too bad, I do have a boyfriend."
"Wait really?" her eyes widened, threatening to fall off her sockets. "So you'll be bringing your boyfriend to my wedding?"
"Yup," I wiggled my eyebrows playfully, truly and well fucked from the inside. "So no worries because I do have a date after all. Although please do tell Sammy I love him, okay?"
Savannah nodded and then we both silently watched the movie she had put on, ordered pizza and only after she was out of my house and the door clicked shut behind her, it dawned on me that I was in so much trouble.
I needed to find a boyfriend. And that too fast.
Great.
||
i dont regret giving cliffhangers anymore lmao. it's just fun at this point.
also, super sorry for late updates these days but ive my exams starting from the 21st (UGH) and I need to actually study so I hope you guys bear with me.
(I'll come back tomorrow to edit this chp)
thanks for reading<3
vote and comment.