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She was confused, aroused, and overwhelmed. Striding over to her kitchenette, she dug into her cupboard for her emergency stack of chocolate.
If any day called for chocolate, this was one such day.
Chapter 16
The next week passed in a blur for Iris. While she was used to maintaining a busy schedule, this week was far more labor-intensive than anything she’d done recently. She’d drop into bed each night, exhausted, and sleep straight through to the morning.
True to their promise, Niamh and Mac stopped by her store twice before returning to Dublin for Mac’s training schedule. Once they’d seen the state of her store and assessed that she had little to no furniture, Mac ordered Iris into his large SUV. The three of them had taken an impromptu road trip and had stopped at several flea markets and vintage stores. Mother Jones was a favorite of Iris’s, a funky flea market with stalls featuring vintage and local crafts. Mac had packed his SUV full of the smaller pieces and had arranged to ship the larger items. It had been a bit of a whirlwind, Iris had to admit, but she’d ended up having a lot of fun.
Fun. It was kind of a foreign concept to her, she’d realized about halfway through the next day when she’d been unpacking some of her thrift store finds. Mac and Niamh had been on the other side of the room, arguing over whether her cupboards needed to be painted when Gracie and Dylan had waltzed through the door with a box of pastries and a jug of mimosas. They’d even brought a portable speaker with them, and soon the four of them were arguing over paint colors while Iris had blinked at them, bemused at these people who had somehow woven themselves seamlessly into her life.
It…It made her feel good, she realized, and it stressed her out at the same time. Iris wasn’t sure how to operate within this many levels of relationships, friends and family alike, and worry that she would let someone down or not meet expectations gnawed at her. She tried to push it aside and enjoy the moment, but she still hovered in this weird spot between fun and waiting for everything to implode on her.
Just like it had the last time she’d allowed herself to dream.
Iris could kick herself, she thought, and shook her head as she unwrapped some crystals she’d purchased. It still galled her to think that she had been considering buying a home with Warren and settling down. Even the idea of a baby had flitted through her mind occasionally, though it hadn’t been the driving force behind Iris daydreaming about getting a house with Warren. No, she’d wanted a home of her own, one where she didn’t feel like it could be taken away from her at any moment, and she’d thought that perhaps she could have that future with Warren.
Which showed her just how silly she was to dream.
Iris reminded herself, for the hundredth time that week, that it was okay to dream. Her anxiety about building something new on her own and forging relationships with new people was a normal response to trauma. She’d been wronged by someone she’d trusted. Even so, Iris refused to let her past stop her from moving forward.
She’d just have to allow herself to be uncomfortable until she got where she needed to go. Wasn’t that what growth was about? Discomfort and the unfamiliar?
Speaking of discomfort of another kind, Kane had shown up every day this week. Did her heart leap every time she saw his smiling face at the door? Yes. Did she studiously ignore the fact that she’d fallen apart all over him while having one of the best orgasms of her life on this very dining table? Also, yes. He had not given her any indication that he even remembered the encounter. Iris huffed an annoyed breath as she ripped the tape off another box. For all she could tell, Kane was more than happy to follow her “just friends” initiative.
She only had herself to blame for that one.
Kane: He’s starting to fall for her. He’s not good at this whole fake-dating thing. He’s never actually been in a real relationship before.
Iris: So what’s the problem?
Kane: He can’t separate reality from fiction. She’s following the rules of fake dating, treating him romantically in public when the paparazzi are watching but, back in private, she’s put him in the friend zone.
Iris: But they are friends, aren’t they? Isn’t that what they agreed on?
Kane: Are they friends? She works for the PR company his record label hired. She’s just doing her job.
Iris: Fake dating sounds above and beyond her job duties. Why would she agree to that unless she liked him?
Kane: Maybe the PR company gave her a special bonus to stick with him? Since she’s the only one he tolerates being close to him?
Iris: Ah, grumpy and a rock star. Be still my heart.
Kane: Do women actually like grumpy men? Why would you want to hang out with someone who is a jerk all the time?
Iris: Women like being the one to make the grumpy guy turn not grumpy. It’s one of those fantasy things. Dude’s a jerk to everyone and impossible to be around–except with her. It makes her special.
Kane: So if he wants her to fall for him, he needs to make her feel special.
Iris: Well, yeah. Duh. That goes for any relationship, no?
Kane: Yeah, stupid question. I was just thinking out loud. So she’s keeping him at arm’s length, and he’s falling hard. It scares him, though. Everybody in his life has let him down. He’s used for his fame constantly. How can he trust?
Iris’s breath caught. Was he still talking about his story? Or were there subliminal messages going on here? She was keeping Kane at arm’s length. Or was she? He was the one acting like nothing had happened between them. Maybe he had more feelings there than he was ready to admit. Maybe Iris did too. She had to admit, if only to herself, that she thought about Kane much more than she wanted to. She’d begun to look forward to his texts each day or caught herself staring out the front window, hoping he would stop by to see her again.
Iris: What happens if he doesn’t trust her?
Kane: Hmm, good question. Let’s see…he’ll fall back into an endless routine of rock stardom where nothing has meaning because it is a revolving door of women and groupies, where nobody actually cares about him. He’ll have to decide if he loses the record label to his father by refusing his grandfather’s edict to marry an arranged bride, or if the loss would be worth it to have this girl by his side. He’s never not had the comfort of the record label supporting him, so turning his back on that and giving his father the controlling stake could be catastrophic for him as a person. But so could losing her.
