The Billionaire’s Bride by L. Steele

15

"You know what I really hate? Boys. Okay, maybe I don’t hate them but I hate how my mind reacts to them. I get so freaked and panicky about them. If I message them and they don’t reply straight away, my mind’s like, ‘he’s moved on to talk to another girl,’ or ‘you’ve pissed him off now; well done.’ I also feel like I reply too fast to their messages… But maybe that’s just irrational thinking. The thing is… I’m kind of scared of them. As in, I’m scared of what a relationship is (not friendship—I can be friends, easily). It’s like foreign ground. I’ve never done the whole relationship thing. I’ve always thought you should start out friends to stop the awkwardness, but if someone doesn’t want that, what are you supposed to do? Anyway, I’m going to go sleep or do something else that is totally unproductive whilst I try not care about boys..."

-From Ava's Diary

Ava

"I still can’t believe you threw him out," Isla stares up at me from the corner of the dressing room in my studio. I glance at the door of the studio for, like, the hundredth time in the last hour. Will I ever feel safe in here? I mean, it’s silly. Since those guys had broken in, Baron had insisted that Karina, Arpad’s wife who runs a security agency, beef up the security on the place, and I had agreed. The door is reinforced, and all of my students have to be buzzed in, which does make me feel safer.

Still, this is where Edward was shot, and that…is something I don’t think I am going to forget anytime soon. At least, I still have the space. If it were up to Baron, he’d have moved me to a completely new studio…at his expense. Not that I’d have allowed him to do that. I don’t want to feel beholden to him… Or to Edward. In any form, right now.

Shit, stop thinking about him and Baron. This is supposed to be a complete break, remember?

When Isla had dropped by, carrying two cups of coffee, it had been a welcome break between classes. She’d tried reaching me by phone, then when I hadn’t answered the phone, she’d decided to drop by. For the past half an hour, I have been trying to explain the situation to her, or rather, trying to justify the reason behind what I had done, both to her, and I suppose, to myself. And it had been the right thing. It has to be, right? If I can’t stop getting intimate with either of them when I see them, then clearly, this arrangement isn’t working.

"I kissed Baron," I repeat, "then I walked into the house and made out with Edward."

"So?"

"So?" I scowl at her. "Seriously, Isla, that doesn’t sound right to me."

"You are too influenced by what society thinks."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, just because conventional wisdom dictates that you can be only with one man at a time—"

"For a reason," I look her up and down, "I mean, how would you feel if Liam carried on with you and another woman—"

She scowls, holds up a finger, "Firstly, don’t talk about that bastard. And secondly," she holds up another finger, "he is with another woman. He’s getting married, remember?"

"How are the arrangements going?"

"He showed up for the first rehearsal, but I haven't seen him since. I feel sorry for his fiancée."

"Thought you didn't like his fiancée."

"I don't."

"Then why are you defending her?"

"Dunno, maybe I just think that she deserves better."

"Really?" I peer into her features.

She nods. "I mean, it can't be easy being engaged to the jerkass. He's, apparently, told her that she can do what she wants. He doesn’t care." She flips her hair over her shoulder, "I mean, he’s paying for all of it. The least he can do is make sure he’s getting his money’s worth."

"Maybe he trusts you?"

"Not likely, considering I barely know the man." She snorts, "In fact, I am beginning to empathize with his fiancée."

"You are?"

She nods, "She’s a lovely girl, actually. A bit naïve; he’ll probably chew her up and spit her out."

"But not you?"

"Huh?" She frowns.

"He’d have met his match in you?"

"Stop." She glowers at me. "Don’t go turning the spotlight on me, bitch."

"Yeah, okay." I raise my shoulders. "I tried. I mean, your love life is far more interesting right now."

"Ha, ha," Isla deadpans. "That’s a joke, right?"

I give her a dirty look.

"I’m not the one getting boned by two hot alphaholes."

"I am not getting boned by them," I protest.

"Surely you’ve thought about it?" She waggles her eyebrows, "Imagine two dicks at the same time. Not to mention, you’ll have two pair of hands, two sets of lips, two tongues and—"

"I can count," I say dryly.

"Can you, though?"

"What?" I groan, "Come out and say it, Isla." I place my now empty coffee cup down on the floor and lean forward in the tiny dressing room, "What’s on your mind?"

"That pushing both of them away is not the way to go about this."

"Why not?"

"It’s the proverbial hiding your head in the sand and hoping that it will all go away."

"If only it were that simple," I mumble. "Not that I am not trying, believe me. I’ve tried to regulate the time spent with each of them and, clearly, that’s not going to work."

"You barely gave it a chance to work," she points out.

I snort, "I only have to spend a few moments alone with either of them and things just get out of hand, so yeah, not going down that path."

"So, you decide you’re not going to see either of them?"

"Well, yeah." I raise my shoulders. "What would you have done?"

"The opposite?"

"Huh?"

"Spend time with both of them?" She stares at me as if I am a complete idiot.

"Wait, what?"

"I mean, spend time with both of them."

"At the same time?"

"YES."

"So, what? Like, double date, except it would be a threesome of sorts?" I frown

"Yes."

"No." I shake my head.

"Yes." She nods.

I jump up, brush past her into the studio and begin to pace. "This doesn’t make sense at all."

She stands up from her chair and leans against the doorway of the dressing room. "Why not?"

I turn on her, "Hello, can you hear yourself?" I throw my hands in the air. "You’re basically saying I should be with both of them, and risk them hurting each other?"

"Why would they do that?"

"You haven’t seen how pissed off each of them gets, when they know I am with the other. They have come to blows at least twice now, already."

"So let them fight it out." She raises a hand, "They need to get it out of their systems; let them."

"They’ll hurt each other."

"They’ll heal." She shrugs.

I stare at her, and she scowls back, "What? Don’t tell me you don’t find the thought of two men fighting over you, hot?"

"Honestly?" I bite down my lower lip, "It is a little hot, I suppose." She grins and I hold up a hand, "But mostly, it gives me a headache." I rub at my temples, "How the hell am I going to figure this out?"

"Don’t sweat it, babe." She walks toward me and grips my shoulder, "Let things happen organically."

"I tried that, remember?" I sigh. "I think I took the meaning of ‘organically’ to be too literal."

"Maybe you just need to sleep with both of them, so you can compare how you feel, you know?"

"I’ve done that already."

"But do it more consciously?" She raises her eyebrows, "So you can weigh how you feel, and not just physically."

"It doesn’t seem right… You know?" I slide my hands into the pockets of the leather jacket that I had thrown over my dress before leaving earlier. "It feels too cold, too calculated… And it goes against everything I thought a relationship should be about."

"Well, these are extenuating circumstances, so…"

"But does it justify that I am actually, in effect, with two men at the same time?" I glance at her, stricken, "Shit, it does come down to that, right? I am a two-timing little slut." Tears form in my eyes.

She frowns at me, "Stop being so judgmental of yourself."

"Why shouldn’t I be?" I sniff.

She glances around, spots the box of tissues I keep in the far corner of the studio and goes over to grab them for me. She returns, hands it to me, and I mumble my thanks. "I mean, it’s not natural, having such a deep connection with two men and not being able to decide." I dab at my eyes.

"It happens." She eyes me closely, "And it’s not completely your fault. After all, those two set you up."

"Yeah," I bite the inside of my cheek. "Still doesn’t help me, though. After all, I am the one caught in between them."

"That," she smirks, "is the key point here."

"What?"

"In between them." She titters.

"You have a one-track mind." I roll my eyes. "Nothing like that is ever going to happen."

"You don’t even know what I am thinking of."

"Don’t I?"

She arches an eyebrow, "Again, don’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it."

"No." My cheeks heat. "Okay, maybe."

"Ha!" she crows. "What better way of comparing them, then having them side by side?"

"Stop." I slap my hands over my ears. "Seriously, Iz, I think you’re sexually deprived; you need to get laid."

"Tell me about it." She blows out a breath, then glances at her watch. "OMG, look at the time. I need to get going."

"Another, rehearsal?"

"With Liam’s fiancée and the dildo I now keep in his seat, since he doesn’t turn up."

I gape. "No, you don’t."

"Sure, I do."

"Seriously?" I giggle.

"It started out as a joke," she admits. "Now, Lila and I do it whenever he doesn’t turn up. It makes it all kind of fun."

"It is funny." I chortle.

"Yeah, I know." She rises to her feet, grabs her things then glances at me, "So, what are you going to do, then?"

"Good question." I move toward my music console, flip a switch. The strain of my favorite dance number Girl like Me by the Black-Eyed Peas and Shakira, fills the space. I raise my arms above my head, do a little shimmy, "I suppose I could always dance. It’s one way of solving my problems." I move my hips, bump and grind. "I could pretend I am between the two of them, seducing them—"

"Umm, Ava?" I hear her call above the strains of the music.

"What?" I mumble, focusing on my steps—shake my hips, move my feet, bend, raise my arms. "Or I could rub myself up against one, then the other." I widen my legs, thrust my pelvis forward.

"Ava!" Isla says more urgently. "They are—"

"What?" I grumble. "Can I, at least, dance in my own studio, or what?" I shake my chest, undulate my body, "Maybe I could dirty dance with one, then the other, then with both, like—" I swirl around, come face to face with two heated gazes.