Almost one month gone. Two months left.
Today, I decided to listen to some soft songs, so My Playlist was blaring in my headphones. Muting me from the rest of the world, I could feel the constant peace and energy flow through me. Simply, I felt blissful.
But I wasn't just listening to songs.
Instead my sole focus was on my work. The fabrics were piled on top of the another from which I chose the texture and color. Sheets of paper - crumpled and fresh - were scattered on the bed, along with shreds of pencil cuttings, which carpeted the floor.
Overall, the scene was pretty horrific and I had already got a scolding from Ella. I would have listened to her, but I just wanted to complete my designs so badly, that I ignored her.
Ah, yes. My designs.
I thought it would be best if there was a glimpse of my own designs in the Runaway, after two months. It was unnecessary because my Lead Designer was quite gifted, yet I thought I would give some of my work.
Not to be boastful, but my works are always different - a mixture of several ideas, textures and times.
"What?" I frowned at my sketch, ignoring the Dumbass who was poking me in the thigh, continuously.
As soon as the music left my ears, I gave him a hard glare, and pointed to the headphone that he just ripped moments ago.
"You asshole!" I smacked him in the head. He winced, and the headphone fell on the bed as he rubbed the side of his head. I narrowed my eyes, putting my headphone on the bedside table - away from him.
"Vicious women, dangerous bitch, damn..." He muttered under his breath like a fucking mantra.
"Now tell me." I ask him, focusing back on my sketch.
"You!" I winced at his voice, "Where do you vanish at times?"
I scoffed. My heart didn't want to lie to this idiot, but again I had been lying straight to him, so many times. "I told you, I was with Nyla."
At least I thought that was a good cover up story. But Leo being Leo didn't seem to agree with my obvious lie.
"You and that," He gritted, in annoyance, "Vincent Thompson are dating, right?"
"What?" I shrieked, nearly falling off the bed. And I really fell, totally. I wasn't that obvious about my feelings for Vincent, I knew it. Nor had we, yet, announced our fake relationship to the public. Besides all this, it was out of character for Leo to know my whereabouts in every step. Because that maniac was always me.
"You know, I am the King of Social Media." He mocked, but still held his serious tone.
"Sure." I rolled my eyes and without conveying, I asked, "But what made you think so?"
He scratched his chin, "Let me think. Ah, yes! That night, last Saturday perhaps a wine party was held by your boyfriend's infamous mother. There were so many posts on her account and I was not at all shocked to see you with her and Vincent."
My look held bewilderment, "Wait, what?"
"If I'm the Sexy and Hot King of Social Media, then she's the Wicked Witch of Social Media." He flipped his non-existent long hair.
"So, you're basically telling me that you found out about it from some hashtags and posts?" I panicked, "Oh shit! I am exposed!"
"Yes tha- but wait, that was not the point here." He glared, "So are you two dating?"
I stared blankly at Leo's mischievous and expected face. It made me unsettled and guilty.
I knew he meant the best for me. He also knew that I didn't have a proper relationship since five years. I think he was happy but because it was a fake relationship, it felt bad to lie at his face. And I'm sure he didn't forget my incidents and victims.
But what was actually surprising that besides being so expectant, he still hated Vincent like I hated Kayden.
Right. Kayden.
He had gone to bed rest because apparently he couldn't walk, without limping. Most of the guests were amused. Even I had come in good terms with Vincent's mom after that little stunt. Vincent was the opposite of me though.
I liked his father, Alex - he told me himself to call by that - and kinda hated his mother. Vincent was sailing on a different ship, by the way.
The Wine Party was good, except Nyla and Cheryl were attached to me like some fucking glue. Men worshipped the path, I was walking and yes, I totally mean that. While, the women - even Nyla's mother - held those psychotic bitchy look, ready to kill me.
And Jade didn't show up. I expected her, kinda.
In all, everything was so damn frustrating that I had slept all the way to Vincent's office, aka penthouse and left immediately.
Just bidding a quick farewell. My feelings were line, that's why.
"Yes." I answered shortly, "We are."
He tackled me in a bear hug, throwing his Kindle - and yes, he was a sucker for erotica - on my untidy bed and pecked my cheeks.
"Get off me." I rolled my eyes, pushing him.
He tried to say something, but I shushed him with my hand on his mouth.
"Aish!" I retreated my hand, which he had sloppily licked.
"I've a date." I announced, grabbing all my sketches and fabric in a messy pile and shoved them, on one corner of the bed. I would deal with these later.
Without looking for his reaction, and ignoring his 'finally!' I went to my closet to grab a white jeans and a boyfriend red shirt.
It was pretty late, four in the evening, but I decided to take a warm shower. Showers always helped me to relieve stress and I already had so much on my platter, that anything more would be burdening. Actually, my life problems could be pretty mild to others, but they still were my life problems.
Along with the Runaway in mind, I also didn't forget about the Board Meeting that was to be held in the same month. The Runaway occupied a little part of my overthinking mind, but the Board Meeting loomed over my head like dark clouds.
I had to snatch back my right - my company - from the hands of that son of a bitch.
And I also had to find the other asshole who had financed him.
Already when I was in deep shit in the business world, there was also my feelings. Love life? Nah. But fake relationship? Totally yes.
Vincent was gnawing on my mind like a fucking rodent - but if a rodent was sexy, which they aren't, then Vincent would win the title. It was scary and exhausting. We had kissed several times and had sex, but did that mean we were actually a couple, instead of fake?
Totally not.
But I was in a extremely deep gutter. My feelings were everywhere and Vincent didn't help. Instead he touched me at every chance, he got. At the Wine Party, his hands drifted to my ass, my breasts and where not, sending explicit messages to my wet, panting core.
My mind were always filled with the thoughts of him. Completely unhealthy.
I tugged at my long hair in frustration and anger. The frustration that everything seemed to go downhill and the anger that I couldn't help myself about all that. I slid down the bathroom, finally letting all the pent up emotions, in a huge waterfall of tears.
The salty tears mixed with the warm water, as it run down my cheeks and ended on my body. I whimpered, silently, rubbing my suddenly cold hands together and held onto my arms. My hands, automatically gripped at my hair tightly and the nails scratched painfully into my scalp.
I liked the pain, which made me sick at myself.
Suddenly, I broke from my reverie - if you can name it. Why the heck was I crying?
I don't cry, not even when I'm alone. Because it makes me feel weak. Dread settled upon me, when I wiped the stray tears and realized, I cried all this time. I had become weak and Vincent had fucked my life.
Some would say I was probably exaggerating, just because a few tears escaped my eyes and I was being hysterical over it.
But I just hated crying.
I hated being weak, more than anything else.
Leaving the warm shower, I let my hair fall into loose cascades, put on a matching set of black lace bra and panties, then put on my white jeans and flannel shirt. I shivered a little as I realized it was cold today. So, tugging the shirt inside, I pulled on a white jacket over and zipped it. I decided to take a muffler and put on my black ankle boots.
"Badass." I smacked at Leo's head, "But wait, are you taking your bike?"
"Hell yes!" I took the keys off the hook, grabbed my phone and my wallet.
"Absolutely not!" He smacked me back, at the back of my head. The audacity!
I jumped away from him, and ran down the stairs. At my age, a person would behave more maturely, but here I am, fighting my best friend. In my defense, I would say, Leo was always capable of bringing out my happiness.
I shouted a bye to Mom and went to the basement garage. The chilly air raised goosebumps and I wrapped my muffler around the neck, tighter. I almost regretted my decision of wearing white clothes. Black would've kept me much warmer.
Sliding my legs on the bike, and putting on my helmet, I made an exit through the driveway.
Within minutes, I arrive to the nearest Fabric Store. At a distance, I see Vincent leaning against his black Mustang. I would've rolled my eyes from inside the helmet, because who brings a car, this expensive just for shopping? Or I would've been scared with the warmth inside me, that I was ignoring.
But I didn't. Instead I smiled seeing him.
I park my bike right next to him. He glances at my bike, shakes his head and again takes the same stance. I grin to myself, knowing well enough that he didn't recognize me because of the dark helmet.
I sit on my bike for a while, watching him.
He looks hot, probably smells great right now. I could feel my mouth watering just at the sight and my mind screams of that day, as he made me happy. Then I remember... I'm describing a delicious taco.
Shaking my head off the images of the taco, I again watch him.
He really looks delicious in a deep grey - just like his eyes - sweatshirt, and a black jacket on top of it. The black ripped washed jeans hung on his hips loosely and his hair was in his usual mess. With that casual look, he would pass as a college student or just a worker, but definitely not a businessman.
I take off my helmet, when I finish having my share of tacos.
His eyes glance at me, and as soon as he was going to turn front, his head jerks back in my direction.
I chuckle at him, when he stands straightly and blinks several times. It becomes almost comical when he rubs his eyes, blinks again and finally narrows them towards me. Finally, he really looks at me and takes long strides towards me.
"What's up?" I give him a two finger salute, casually.
"Are you really Amara?" He frowns.
"No, I'm a Seductress from Heaven, riding a bike." I chuckle, descending from my bike.
He doesn't answer and when I finally stand in front of him, a shiver - that has nothing to do with the cold - runs down my spine as my eyes meet Vincent's dark dilated pupils. His eyes rake over my body, painfully slow and sensually. He licks his lips, and almost automatically I also dry my suddenly dry lips.
"Right." He leans closer, his hands in his pocket, "Seductress from Heaven indeed."
I look at him in the eyes, as his arms trap in between his heat and my bike. I feel warm in this chilly weather and the muffler suddenly feels suffocating.
"Nice bike, by the way." He smirks, looking briefly at my lips.
I am in deep shit and I'm aware of that. So, as much as I want to stay in this position, I clear the mist around my mind and lean closer to him, our warm breaths on each other's lips.
"I try." I whisper.
He smirks and moves away. A sudden chill of the weather hits me hard and I blink. He motions me towards the store and waits for me to go inside.
I sigh, internally and pass him, but freeze almost immediately.
His hands touch my waist, almost above my waistband, sending sparks inside my cold system.
"I didn't peg you for a rider." He whispers in my ear.
"I am unpredictable." I whisper back, leaning on his shoulder.
He stiffens but quickly composes. I wait for him to give me something, like a comeback but he doesn't and I tense. Any outsider would say we are flirting, by the way we are standing but if one looks closely they would've thought the opposite.
The atmosphere begins to tense and I move away from his body.
He seems to notice, but smiles a fake smile at me. I would've said simply that the smile was fake but it was a mixture of hesitancy, longing and guilt maybe. I couldn't comprehend, because quickly he masks his facial expression with a blank look.
"Let's go." He says, taking my hand and tugging me into the store.
I pat my back pocket for my phone and wallet, then put hook my keys at the side pocket of my jeans. Letting Vincent make the way, I follow him, intentionally ignoring the tense atmosphere and his smile, which happened just a minute ago.
"You are a badass, with the tattoos, piercings and bikes." He says.
And the playful, casual atmosphere is back, just like that.
"Maybe." I choose my words, hesitantly, "Is that bad?"
He chuckles, "Nah. It's just that, being one of the top billionaires, aren't you afraid to expose your image like this?"
"I am." I answer truthfully, my eyes roaming on some fabrics, "I've hidden this side of mine. I only show it to my close people. But I wouldn't change this look." I pause, "What about you? People have seen your face, unlike mine. How do you roam around like a commoner?"
I hear him closer, "I don't give a fuck to what others think."
I ignore his warmth and nod, "That's great."
I can hear him breath on my neck, "Why are we on a date in a fabric store?"
"It was my turn to choose." I turn to look at his eyes, "I thought, it would be okay."
"I'm absolutely fucking okay with it," He leans closer, my back hitting one of the rack, "It's just, I want to savage your wet pussy with my teeth, in my bed and fuck you like there's no tomorrow. After all, I can't get your body and sex outside from my mind."
True to his words, my panties are soaking wet in this cold weather. I shiver and lean closer to his body, desperate to feel his body warmth.
At the rate we're going, I'm pretty sure he'll be my next victim. That should scare me, but oddly, it doesn't. I am so fucking screwed and I know it. Good Lord, he'll also be the death of me, and I'm well aware of it.
That's why, instead of running away, I decide to tell him my past incidents.
Cause' I'm finally ready to face Hell and its consequences.
"Vince, I-" I start but we quickly jerk back, by someone's voice.
"Amara?" Motherfucking Jesus, I didn't even face Hell and you throw this at me?!