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

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I have. With you.” His lips turn down now. “Why do you think I’ve been holding back, Ivy? I’m scared shitless right now. You’re under my skin, running through my veins. You’re all I fucking think about.”

My heart skips a beat. I sense his melancholy and his fear.

I feel it in me, too.

I look at him, wanting him to see the sincerity in me, the deep gratitude, when I say, “Thank you for allowing me to see you, Aidan.”

Twenty-Eight

Ivy

We shower together the second the sun comes up. I’m exhausted to my bones, but I’m on such a high, I barely care. He showers me with light kisses and helps me wash myself.

“I’m covered in you,” I note, smiling tiredly at him.

He grins down at me. Of course he doesn’t look shattered. Of course he looks like a fucking model compared to me. His grin makes my pulse jump because it lights up his entire face. He’s got stubble on his cheeks, and his hair is in all directions. I’ve been seeing Aidan in this state often lately, and I’m liking it.

“I intend to keep you covered in me,” he muses, playfully. “It would be a serious disservice to mankind if my temptress is not covered in her man’s scent.”

“I think I’m covered in a lot more than your scent.”

“Good. I want to keep you marked.”

“Tapping into your primal male self?”

“No, this is just me wanting the world to know you’re taken.”

He always knows what to say. I melt against him.

After our shower, I wrap myself up in the towel and collapse back into bed. Aidan wears the towel around his hips. He wears it low, and I can’t stop ogling him. He leaves the bedroom for a bit. I grab my shitty phone off the dresser and throw on some light music. Then I look over my messages. Nothing from my mother. Nothing new from Ana. This is good. No news is good news. I set the phone back down just as Aidan walks back into the room with a cup of coffee.

“For you,” he tells me, passing it over.

I grin at him. “You’re earning some mad brownie points, Aidan.”

He chuckles. “I take it I’ll need them for later?”

“When you’re on the shit list, yes.”

His eyes are bright as he regards me. “Something tells me I never want to be on your shit list.”

I pat his arm. “You’re getting the hang of this boyfriend thing.”

He stands there longer, processing my words. There’s a content smile on his face. “Boyfriend sounds juvenile, don’t you think?”

I bury my face in the mug, not looking back at him now. “For now, it’s what you are.”

Right?

Is that his title? At least until I officially get divorced, but then he’s still my boyfriend. I’m not sure if he’s implying he wants to be more, but what would more be? I stop mulling this over. I can’t linger on these thoughts. I’m not ready to.

“Hey,” his fingers suddenly graze my cheek. I look up at him. He’s solemn because he knows what I’m thinking. “I don’t care how long it takes, okay?”

I swallow and stiffen a nod.

He leaves the room and I stare after him, wondering why my chest is in knots. He just eased me, told me he doesn’t care how long the divorce process will be. I count on my fingers how long I’ve got until I can officially file.

It just sucks because I feel like I’m not free yet. It’s like I’m still holding my breath. I’m assuming Derek won’t contest it. Why would he? We have no major assets together. There was a reason all along I’ve been reserved about investing in anything as a couple. A part of me always knew this was coming.

Aidan returns carrying a coffee of his own. He sets the mug down on the dresser and rummages through the drawers.

“What are you looking for?” I ask.

He pulls out sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. “I need to maintain this boyish figure,” he answers, smirking at me from over his shoulder.

“Any fitter and I won’t be able to catch up with you.”

“That’s okay. You can just lay there, in my arms, and I’ll pump you good, baby.”

My skin heats at the searing look he shoots me next.

He drops the towel and changes in front of me. This guy is a fucking beast. I ogle him shamelessly. After all, he’s mine now, right? The second he’s got his shirt on, his phone starts to blow up on the night stand next to my phone. He walks to it casually and swipes his finger across the screen, silencing it.

He’s back to ignoring his phone.

“You keep doing that.”

“The world will turn without me,” he responds. He bends down and kisses me. “Is it bad I miss you already?” he whispers against my mouth.

“I miss you too.” Then I lay back into the pillows. “Stay here. You can use me as your workout.”

He’s grinning again, sending my pulse into overdrive. “You’re not heavy enough, temptress.”

Then he’s strolling out of the room and I feel this miserable ache when he’s gone.

Back to being alone. To hearing my pulse beat in my ears. I raise the volume on my music and slide off the bed. I feel antsy. My legs are busy and there’s a weird ball in my throat. I rub at my neck, concerned with the strange feelings coursing through me.

Why do I have the urge to sob? To bury myself under the hot spray of the shower and hold my knees to my chest?

Stop, Ivy, stop. It’s not real.

I need to be busy, I think. That’s all it is. I’m not used to sitting idle.

I slip into an oversized shirt I find in Aidan’s gym drawer and tidy the room up, make the bed and leave.

Next thing I know, I’m standing in the kitchen and rummaging through the cupboards. Aidan is well stocked up. I imagine his chef