My Childhood Bully is a Mafia Boss-Chapter 25

Ivy, back then...

I paced back and forth in our living room, my slippers sliding against the carpet with each turn. My eyes darted to the clock on the mantel, its hands mocking me with their slow crawl. Aidan would be here any minute, and my stomach twisted into a thousand knots just thinking about it.

"Sweetheart, you’re creating a path in the carpet," Mom teased from the kitchen doorway, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Is this how you act when you’re expecting a new boyfriend?"

"Mom!" I protested, a blush creeping up my cheeks despite the playful scold in my voice. "It’s not like that. Aidan and I are just... working on a project. That’s all."

"Of course, sweetheart," she said, her laughter light as it filled the room. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she turned back to whatever magic she was working up in the kitchen.

I resumed my pacing, trying to focus on anything but the thought of Aidan standing at our door. Would he sneer the way he did in school hallways? Or maybe he’d be too caught up in his own world to even notice...

"Really, though, Ivy," Mom called out, breaking into my spiraling thoughts. "If this Aidan is giving you butterflies, maybe there’s more to this ’project partnership’ than you think."

"Mom!" I shook my head, chuckling despite the nerves bubbling inside me. "You’re impossible." But the warmth of her teasing pulled a smile onto my face.

God...me dating Aidan? The sky would fall and pigs will grow wings when that happens.

"Please, please let him be nice," I whispered under my breath, the words a silent mantra as I clasped my hands together. Aidan’s sharp edges and biting remarks were notorious at school and I could tolerate them there.

But here, in the sanctuary of my home with Mom’s warm presence just a room away, his brusqueness seemed like an alien threat. "He’s only here for the project," I told myself, trying to smother the flicker of unease with reason. "It’s not like he can do any harm with Mom around."

I took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the oxygen fill my lungs and willing the calm it brought to seep into my bones. My palm pressed against the cool wood of the front door, and I reminded myself that this was just Aidan.

The doorbell rang, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

"I’ll get it!" I cried and ran to open the door.

And there he was. Aidan Blackwood—his dark hair a tousled contrast to the too-perfect boys from the books I read, his leather jacket hinting at rebellious secrets, and those intense blue eyes that seemed to see right through me.

For a heartbeat, I forgot to breathe. His slightly rumpled appearance didn’t make him any less attractive.

"Hey," he said, voice laced with that familiar edge of nonchalance that somehow sent shivers down my spine.

"Hi," I stumbled over the syllable, forcing a smile. "Come on in."

I stepped aside, heart hammering against my ribs as if trying to escape the cage of my chest. He brushed past me, and a hint of his cologne—a mix of something woodsy and a trace of mint—wafted around me, unsettlingly pleasant.

"Living room’s this way," I managed, motioning towards the open doorway behind me. My fingers twitched nervously at my sides as I led the way, feeling his gaze heavy on my back. The living room, with its cozy couches and walls lined with family photos, suddenly seemed too intimate, too revealing.

Aidan took it all in with a cautious glance, his expression unreadable. When his eyes finally found mine again, there was a flicker of... was it curiosity? Whatever it was, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me second-guessing.

"Nice house," he said, and there was a moment, just a moment, when his guard seemed to drop, and the corners of his lips hinted at a smile. Or maybe it was just my wishful thinking.

"Let’s get started then?" I suggested, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Sure," Aidan replied, and for the first time, I sensed a willingness in him that hadn’t been there before.

I cleared a space on the coffee table, stacking textbooks and notepads into an orderly pile. "So, I guess we should divide the work?" My words were more of a question than a suggestion, my nerves jittering like leaves in a breeze.

"Whatever it takes to finish this faster," Aidan said as he eased down onto the couch, his knees brushing mine by accident—or maybe not. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass between us, and I was grateful for the dim light that hid the warmth flooding my cheeks.

"Right," I laughed, a little too loudly. "Because this project is our enemy."

He leaned back, propping an ankle on his knee, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Or is it you who is my enemy?"

Before I could reply, the soft tread of my mom’s slippers approached, and she appeared in the doorway, her presence like a warm hug. "You kids need any snacks?" She beamed at Aidan, who sat up a little straighter under her gaze.

"Hi...um...Mrs. Williams," Aidan said, the politeness in his tone taking me off guard. He even stood as he greeted her, which earned him a brightening of her smile.

"Hello, Aidan. Ivy’s told me so much about you." Mom’s eyes twinkled with unspoken mischief, and I shot her a warning glare that I hoped conveyed all my silent pleas for her to be easy on him.

"Did she now?" Aidan replied, matching her warmth effortlessly.

"Of course," she chuckled, and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

"Thanks, Mom, we’re good," I said quickly before she could dive into an embarrassing story or offer to knit him a sweater.

"Alright, holler if you need anything." With one last approving nod to Aidan, she retreated, leaving us enveloped in the quiet hum of the evening.

"Your mom’s nice," he remarked as he resettled into his spot on the couch, and the relief in his voice mirrored my own.

"Thanks," I mumbled, still processing this new side of him. The boy who had stormed through my defenses was now sitting in my living room, chatting with my mom like an old friend. It was disarming and yet, strangely heartwarming.

"So..." I started, my voice trailing off into nothing as I fiddled with the edge of my notebook. The safety of my mom’s presence had vanished, leaving a void filled with uncertainty and the echo of my own nerves.

"Where is your room?" Aidan suddenly asked, startling me.

"My what?" I breathed.

"Your. Room," he enanciated.

"Upstairs. Why are you asking me about my room?" I asked, letting out a nervous giggle.

"I want to see it," he said nonchalantly.

My heart skipped a beat, and I blinked at him, trying to understand if he was serious.

"Wha...why?" I stammered, unsure of how to respond.

Aidan shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the intensity in his eyes. "Just curious, I guess. Want to know what Princess Ivy’s room looks like."

I hesitated. I knew he was just trying to find an excuse to make fun of me somehow. But then, against my better judgment, I found myself nodding.

"Okay, come on," I said, standing up. "Mom!" I called out.

"Yes, honey?" she answered from the kitchen.

"Is it okay if I show Aidan my room?" I asked.

"Go ahead. Just no funny business up there," she replied teasingly.

I blushed as I saw Aidan smirking and then led him upstaires.

As we reached upstairs, I gestured towards the door at the end of the hallway. "That’s my room."

Aidan followed me, his footsteps light against the hardwood floor. I pushed the door open, revealing the cozy space that was uniquely mine. Posters adorned the walls, shelves overflowed with books, and a soft rug lay sprawled across the floor.

"It’s... interesting," Aidan remarked, his gaze sweeping over the room. He looked amused.

"Thanks," I replied. "Wait, what’s so interesting about it?"

"I just expected your room to look more...obnoxious," he said. "More glitz and glams. Like one of those rich girls on TVs."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe you need to stop judging people before getting to know them first."

"Maybe," he said and moved closer to me.

I felt a surge of apprehension as Aidan stepped closer, his presence looming over me. But to my surprise, there was no hint of malice in his demeanor. Instead, his expression softened, and a flicker of something unreadable danced in his eyes.

"You are standing too close," I murmured and took a step back.

"Am I?" he said in a teasing tone and stepped closer again.

My heart raced as Aidan closed the distance between us, his gaze intense and unyielding. I could feel the warmth of his body radiating against mine, sending shivers down my spine.

"Aidan..." I started, my voice barely above a whisper, but he cut me off with a crooked grin.

"Relax, Ivy," he said, his tone light but tinged with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t quite place. "I’m just messing with you."

I exhaled a shaky breath, relieved yet oddly disappointed at the same time. "Right, of course," I managed, trying to sound casual despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside me.

Aidan’s grin widened, and he reached out to playfully tousle my hair. "You’re too easy to tease, Princess," he teased, his fingers lingering against my hair for a moment longer than necessary.

I swatted his hand away, a blush staining my cheeks. "Shut up," I muttered, unable to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

He chuckled, the sound low and husky, and suddenly the tension that had been simmering between us dissipated, replaced by a comfortable ease that felt almost... natural.

"So, can I take a closer look at your kingdom?" Aidan asked, gesturing towards my room with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes, but there was a warmth blooming in my chest at his playful demeanor. "Fine," I said, stepping aside to let him explore.

Aidan grinned and stepped into my room, his eyes darting around with unabashed curiosity. He inspected the posters on my walls, flipped through the pages of my books, and even paused to examine the trinkets on my shelves.

"You have quite the collection," he remarked, a hint of genuine admiration in his voice.

I shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Just stuff I’ve collected over the years," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Aidan’s face contorted into a comical expression, as if he had just discovered the world’s greatest secret. He grabbed a book from the shelf and I nearly choked on air.

It was my diary - the one I thought I had hidden away so well!