Aidan, back then...
I leaned against the wall, a smug grin tugging at my lips. My eyes tracked Ivy as she stumbled out of the chaos, her shoulders hunched and her long chestnut hair curtaining her face.
After I embarrassed her in front of an entire crowd, she couldn't wait to get the hell out of here.
Her lips were swollen from my kiss, and her face was soaked with tears.
"Couldn't handle the heat, could you, Ivy?" I muttered to myself with a chuckle, even though she couldn't hear me.
The sight of her in distress sent a wave of satisfaction through me. It was like watching a play where I had directed every move, every line. There she was—sweet, shy Ivy Williams—trying to escape the scene of her humiliation.
I had crafted that moment, pushing her buttons until she cracked, and it gave me a twisted sense of amusement. For once, I was the puppet master, not the one dangling helplessly on the strings of life's cruel whims.
"Crybaby," I whispered under my breath, my voice laced with a mocking tone only I could hear.
Her vulnerability, laid bare for all to see, made me feel powerful—an unfamiliar sensation that I savored like a rare delicacy. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch into a wider smile. It wasn't a happy smile; it was harder, colder. It was the smile of someone who knew the world was a harsh place, and for once, I had come out on top.
No remorse tugged at me. It was a game, and I played it well. She should've known better than to cross paths with a guy like me.
"Pathetic," I muttered.
It should've only felt good, seeing her like this, knowing I was the cause of it. And it did. But there was something else, an undercurrent of something unexpected that I couldn't quite name.
Guilt?
Nah...
I shoved the thoughts aside and let out a harsh laugh, recalling the gasp that escaped her lips when I had pulled her close, too close.
That kiss—it was meant to be a joke, a way to get under her skin and prove a point. Instead, it sent a jolt of electricity down my spine, lighting up parts of me I didn't know were dormant. And damn if it didn't turn me on more than I wanted to admit.
Girls flocked around me all the time, but none of them left me with this tangled mess of sensation—the way Ivy did with her softness and quiet strength that hid beneath the surface.
They said there was a thin line between love and hate, and I laughed at such nonsense. Yet, here I was, secretly replaying the feel of her lips against mine, the taste of her, sweet and surprising, like a secret I wasn't supposed to know.
"Get a grip, Aidan," I scolded myself, shaking my head as if I could shake off the memory of the kiss that lingered like a ghost's touch. It was just a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment. Nothing more.
I needed to focus on the rush, the power I held in that brief encounter when I made Ivy Williams fall apart. That was what mattered. Not the unsettling warmth that flooded me when she looked up at me with those wide, vulnerable eyes, nor the way my heart raced when our lips met in a clash of wills.
"Never again," I swore in my mind, though it felt more like a plea than a promise. I couldn't afford these distractions, not when everything else in my life was a tightrope walk over a never-ending hell.
I pushed away from the wall and headed toward another crowd of people. I had to remember who I was—Aidan Blackwood, the guy no one messed with, the guy who didn't give a damn about anyone else's feelings.
Especially not hers.
Aly approached me then, gliding through the mass of sweaty bodies like an oil slick on water. She was new here, had moved from God-knows-where, but she'd wasted no time making a name for herself.
She was pretty—long, dark hair that fell to her waist, curves in all the right places, and a confidence that reeked of experience beyond her years. We'd never spoken more than a few words to each other, but I knew her reputation preceded her.
"Hey," she purred in my ear, her hot breath dancing down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. A familiar sensation, this one. I masked my revulsion with an easy smirk I'd perfected over the years.
"I've been waiting for you to notice me all night," she said.
"Yeah?" I drawled, feigning disinterest as I played with the zipper on my hoodie. "What do you want?"
She chuckled low in her throat—a sound that on anyone else might have been sexy but on her just grated on my nerves like fingernails against a chalkboard. "The real question is what do 'I' want from 'you'?" Her hand traced up my chest, lingering just below my collarbone before trailing lower... lower...
I grabbed her wrist mid-trail, squeezing just enough to make her gasp and jerk away. "Get your hands to yourself," I growled through gritted teeth, but Aly only laughed it off, unfazed by my show of dominance.
"Tough guy," she purred, tracing a manicured nail along my jawline. "Fine. Let's play it your way."
I knew I should just walk away. Aly wasn't worth my time or energy. But some sick part of me was curious to see how far she would take this little game of hers.
"Oh yeah?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"
Aly leaned in closer, her lips just barely grazing my ear. "I think you know exactly what I want," she whispered. Her hands slid under my shirt, nails raking lightly down my stomach.
I sucked in a sharp breath, cursing internally as my body responded to her touch.
Ivy's face flashed in my mind suddenly, unwarranted.
What the fuck? Why did I just think about that dork? Aly is much hotter and much more willing to give me her all.
I grabbed Aly's waist and pulled her closer. "Then how about we find ourselves a private room?" I whispered seductively.
But even as the words left my mouth, I couldn't help but wonder—was this really what I craved? Or was it all just a distraction from the real passion I'd tasted mere minutes ago?
I shook my head. No, I couldn't be thinking about Ivy now. Must stay focused on Aly.
Her triumphant smirk said it all. "I knew you'd come around," she purred, wrapping her arm around my waist and leading me upstairs, bodies pressed against each other like magnets.
The music downstairs faded as we made our way up the stairs.
Aly lay back on the bed, her eyes hooded with lust. "Take me, Aidan."
As we frantically undressed each other, part of me couldn't help but compare her to Ivy—the way Aly was so confident in her seduction compared to Ivy's innocent tremors. The way Aly practically purred with desire versus Ivy's soft moans of surprise and pleasure.
"Ugh, dammit!" I cursed out loud.
"Aidan?" Aly looked up at me, confusion evident on her face. "What's wrong?"
"Get out," I said through clenched teeth.
"What..." Aly started.
"GET OUT!" I roar.
Aly scrambled out of bed, grabbed her clothes, and glared at me. "You jerk! Who do you think you are!?" she squealed before hurrying out the door.
I barely noticed her exit. All I could think about was Ivy's blue eyes and soft lips.
Goddammit! This was all her fault. Tomorrow, I will teach her another lesson...