Mister West by R.J. Lewis (animal farm read .TXT) 📕

in, eyeing every part of it like a map. My chest sinks slowly as I let a breath out, wishing for…more. His taps slow when he looks back at me. He looks into my eyes like he knows what I’m thinking about, and then he glances fleetingly at my lips before he looks away entirely.

“Have we figured out our orders?” the waitress asks, appearing.

I quickly look down at the menu and pick the first thing that pops up. We place our orders and she leaves, looking over her shoulder again at Aidan with those rosy cheeks.

“Are you from here, Aidan?” I ask him then, trying to get a clearer picture of him.

He shakes his head. “Toronto.”

“Is your grandmother in Toronto? That’s why you don’t see her often?”

“Yeah.”

“So your company is based here in Ottawa?”

“Actually, it’s in Montreal, but I prefer an Ottawa office. This city is clean and isn’t so big your head gets lost in all the noise.”

“What is your company exactly?”

He chuckles, looking surprised. “Fuck me, Ivy, this is refreshing.”

“What is?”

“Your obliviousness.”

I smile and shrug. “Like I said, I didn’t look you up.”

“I own SwiftPayPro Holdings. It’s an online payments system, used for money transfers –”

“Oh, my God, no, I know,” I cut in, feeling shocked. “I have an S.P.P account. I use it for everything.”

He just smiles at me, and I…just stare at him. I’m dumbfounded. Okay, this guy is a big shot for real. Like…everyone has a SwiftPayPro account, just like everyone has an Amazon account. It’s everywhere.

“Okay,” I finally say, after my shock has ebbed away. “You’re the real deal, Mr West.”

He doesn’t answer. No smartass remark. Nothing. He sort of looks like he regrets telling me that. Maybe he liked I knew nothing. Does he think I’m going to treat him any differently? Jokes on him. He’s still the cocky, arrogant jerk that’s hunted me down in a coffee shop and brought me here.

Oh, and he wants to taste my lips. I can’t forget that juicy bit of truth.

“I thought you’d have owned something far more exciting,” I then add to lighten the mood. “Frankly, I feel a little disappointed, sir.”

His eyes look heavier. “You said you’d never call me that.”

“Sir? Well, I usually envisioned the guy I’d be calling that to have a bald spot and no waistline.”

“Wow, so you must really be disheartened.”

“Truly.”

He relaxes, smirking at me. “See, I envisioned you saying sir in a very detailed fantasy, Ivy.”

Heat rushes everywhere. I feel it in my cheeks, in my chest, in that pulsing spot between my legs.

“Were you on your hands and knees in this fantasy?” I muse, referring to our earlier texts as I take a sip from my water.

He watches the action carefully. “Quite the contrary, beauty.”

This waitress seems to know when to ruin the mood. She returns to serve us our beers. She lingers long enough to watch him take a small drink from it, like she just needs to see him do it. Then she’s off again. This chick is fucking hilarious.

The second we get a bit of alcohol in us, the atmosphere lightens up entirely. The heat is still there. He flashes me the most searing looks when he doesn’t think I notice. Our attention is on the screen and at a random match between two lightweights. When blood is shed, the bar roars with approval. It’s so primitive, I love it.

I turn to him, smiling curiously. “You ever been in a fight, Mr West?”

He takes a sip of beer, chuckling. “Yeah.”

“Why do I feel like your ‘yeah’ is an understatement?”

“I wouldn’t call them my proud moments, but I got into a fair share of punch ups. I learned it’s stronger for a man to walk away than it is to engage. Being reactive was a weakness of mine.”

“Things got to you quickly?”

Instead of answering, he looks at me now, raising his brows. “What about you?”

“Oh, God, yeah.”

“Really?”

“What’s so surprising about that?”

“I’m not surprised. That’s too much personality in a tiny package, Ivy. I don’t know how somebody so small can be so fucking feisty. I believe you.”

“I too was reactive.”

“What changed?”

I don’t answer straight away. I think back at the last time I blew up – I’d blown up for the very last time. It was the day I found out Derek had cheated on me. I was drunk and made a total ass out of myself in front of everyone in that bar that night.

“I humiliated myself,” I admit, looking away from him so he doesn’t meet my eye. “I was a total fool. I woke up the next day, hungover, feeling the deepest shame in my life. I’d allowed something I had no control over to get to me. It was a lightbulb moment.”

Aidan’s not dumb. His eyes narrow. “Let me guess, you packed up your shit and left.”

I just smile weakly at him. Totally not something I want to discuss right now. Aidan is my safe place – my home away from home. He makes me feel like all that drama is a distant memory.

“Well, I’m here right now, with you,” I tell him softly, trying not to let the heat flood my cheeks. It takes a surprising amount of strength to admit to him he is starting to mean a lot to me. I’m so scared of rejection.

Aidan smiles warmly at me, nodding. “I like this. I like being here with you.”

“Me too.”

“You’re…” he pauses, rearranging himself in the seat like he too is out of his element. “You’re enchanting. You send a pulse straight through my chest I haven’t felt in…I haven’t felt ever, I think. So yeah, I like this, being here with you.”

I can’t fight the heat in my cheeks any longer. I feel so flushed from his words, from his attention, from the genuine look in his eyes as he takes me in.

“Being around you makes me happy, Aidan,” I admit quietly. I’m so unused to being open about my feelings, it feels weird to do it. “Even