Winning Back Mr. Right

Chapter 14

•Kevin's POV•

Fate is playing with my head right now. It's her – Airie. Jesus, I'm seeing things. Who would imagine that on one ordinary day like this, I visit the national museum to clear my head and just like that, I get lucky to see the girl of my dreams.

I think about her all the time. It's freaking annoying already. Lots of girls flaunt themselves in front of me but none of them is her. Not an inch.

I remember standing across the secret room just above the podium of Urban. That first night, I looked around only to find a girl with long, chocolate curls, wearing a maroon dress. She has that beautiful, light brown eyes you will not miss. Her natural skinny arms but curvy body send signals to mine. I'm going crazy thinking over and over what it might feel like to touch her skin. She has a light scar in her left arm that is both sexy and intimidating. I look at her, seeing the entirety of her, from head to foot to those slender fingers that I assume are artistically inclined.

She's a stranger and yet I feel so connected to her. Not sure why or how.

She's the first woman I encountered going to a bar without carrying anything. She looks so secured of herself and I find it incredibly amazing when almost all women I know can't live without their treasured bags, purse, or whatever.

Such a graceful and elegant lady without even trying.

I wanted to make a move that night. I mean I could. I'M NO ANGEL. I'm used to disregarding rules. I do what I want when I want it. Yet, with this girl, I suddenly felt the need to stand back, to take my time, and to give her the space she needs.

"I think you're the one who's stalking me." She finally turns around to look at me. God, she's effortlessly beautiful. "Airie, is it? I believe I never really had the chance to introduce myself properly." I offer my hand because that is what a gentleman would do. She's sceptical to take it.

"I never thought you'd figure it out. I was actually surprised in the cliff."

"Japanese for Jasmin. It's a beautiful name. I'm Kevin Rifle." I mention. She stares at me and her eyebrows crunched as if I triggered something from her past, recalling a painful event.

"Kevin Rifle." She accepts my hand and repeats my name to herself. "Kevin Rifle. Where have I heard that name before? Rifle..." Another second after, her jaw drops open and she covers her mouth, amused by something I don't understand. "Binnie? Binnie, is that you?"

I freeze. No one has ever called me that again. Not in a million years until today. "That's creepy. How did you know my stupid nickname?" She hugs me so tight which is unexpected but I'm definitely loving it since it's from her. She embraces me like she's known me for a long time. "How did I not realize it sooner? It's just you this whole time."

Now everything is starting to make sense to me. Fourteen years in Paris made me oblivious of her. The one person I trusted apart from my own mother. "Of course. That's why you looked so familiar. Airie Meynard Eloise. Aimee. Wow." I cup my mouth to hide my stupid happiness then taking her in so I can embrace her again. She gladly accepts it.

"It's been like forever!" She exclaims.

"Tell me about it." I laugh at her comment. She laughs on my chest.

I pull her to a much quieter room in the museum where we can decently talk and hear each other better. We find ourselves a seat just in time for a catch-up. "You call me Binnie because you couldn't say Kevin back then." I start the conversation, chuckling at the thought.

"You call me Aimee to say my entire name all at once." She meets me halfway and together we go down memory lane. "I remember you crying when we were little." She tells another story while staring at this magnificent painting of a woman before us. "You offered me a penny so I won't tell the other kids you did. I said..."

I strike in to interrupt. "You said you don't want a penny. You want my bike instead." She laughs again.

"That's right. You gave me the bike the next day and I kept my promise all this time." She continues. "I still have it."

Confused, I turn to face her. "What is?" She faces me too.

"The bike. It's still in the house somewhere. I kept waiting for you to come back but you didn't. I never had the chance to return it."

I never cared much for life in general until I met her in the bar. Screwing up - I'm a little too good at that. In fact, for years now, I have believed there's no AFTER nor FUTURE for me. Chaos was always the end game. Then the night in the cliff happened. She said my name. She said my fucking name and I have never felt so happy and hopeful and broken all at the same time. I now have the chance to be close to her again but I don't think she'd let me. I came at the right place at the wrong time.

What a fucking cliché.

"You can return it to me one of these days. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. Not if you want me to." Without permission, I take her hand in mine just like the first time I held it in Urban. She has soft hands and I like it. If I can just hold it as often as I wanted to, I would. Airie was taken aback. She pulls her hand away slowly so I wouldn't be offended by it. She still smiles though and I do the same.

"So, do you still paint?" I change the topic to quickly brush the growing awkwardness between us. Airie looks astonished with what I asked. "Remember when we were in second grade? You drew Mrs. Santana and made her face like one of those comic characters we see in Nickelodeon."

I notice Airie trying to find the right words. "That was a long time ago. I haven't. I haven't since...since dad died."

"I'm sorry to hear that. And you never tried again?" I probe a little more. "I mean, sure you get a little rusty, but a talent like that...it doesn't just disappear, right?" She beams a little but it fades from her beautiful face as soon as it begins. Airie bites her lower lip and I know she does that whenever she's scared.