The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 39: Lucas: I like her

Chapter 39: Lucas: I like her

HELPING IRIS pack her suitcase with clothes, shoes, and supplies enough to cover her two-week stay at my house was not something I had in mind when I rushed over to protect her from Jerald a few hours ago.

I thought she was saying it out of spite or to make Jerald mad because she said it in anger, but then she repeated the same statement during our shared moment at the small gate. It was music to my ears, because now I get to have her full time, and I can fully use the treatment methods DR. Williams told me since we get to spend even the evening together.

Now I’m even more glad I rushed over to help her deal with Jerald—that fucking monster. He wasn’t in his right mind when I saw him, like a madman who has been freed from a confinement prison after years of being locked down.

When he lashed out at her, I wanted to punch him, to turn his face into a bloody mess like he did Phin’s, I wanted to fight him till he admitted defeat and apologize to her, to beg for mercy at her feet because he’s been such an asshole, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t want to give Iris another reason to cry. Jerald made sure he had given her so many reasons for that—her elbow scar included.

I performed first aid on it even though she insisted she was fine but moments later when I was dabbing the wound with cotton and ointment, she began flinching. So stubborn. Lucky for her, I love that about her.

I love how she’s stubborn to everyone but me when we’re alone. I love how she lets herself be vulnerable around me, telling me the deep creep shit and dark secrets even though she told me she doesn’t trust anyone other than herself. It makes what we have seem more deeper and real, like she trusts me more than the entire world. Most importantly, I love how she acts cutesy and submissive whenever she needs something from me.

Especiallyinbed.

Rubbing the thought aside, I continue stroking her thigh as I drive slowly down the car-packed highway. I should be annoyed by the low movement, but being alone with Iris in my car, stroking her leg to comfort her, and imagining this is us coming from work as a couple is so sweet. The sugar rush is getting to my brain and making the car jam seem like it’s not a big deal.

Iris shifts in her seat, and I turn to look at her, pulling my hand away just in case it’s the reason why she’s moving around. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" I blubber like an idiot, which I soon realize to be a mistake when she grabs my hand and places it back on her thigh, glaring at me from beneath her lashes.

"I told you, I like you being all over me."

Damn. A burning sensation surrounds my face making me grin at her. When she rubs her fingers over my hand, I know exactly what she wants before she says it out loud. I just hope we can make it to my place soon. My pants are about to freaking rip off.

"Want me to turn the music on?" I ask once more, I return to rubbing her thigh slowly. She nods, looking me in the eyes with this kind of look—I can’t fully describe what it is about it that’s making me sweat a little.

Playing Ella Mai’s album Heart On My Sleeve, I raise the volume a notch, the bass vibrating the car interior. Iris begins bobbing her head, lip-syncing even though the words aren’t coming out of her mouth.

I smile at the good job I’ve done cooling her down. She had been crying nonstop when I stopped her by the gate, and when I thought I’d finally made her relax and stop crying whilst we were hugging, Mary and her messed up boyfriend showed up and started trying to cool her down too.

It led to another flood of tears—from both Mary and Iris, and us the boyfriends had a hard time trying to calm them since they were glued together with a hug. It soon led to us packing Iris’ bags together, with Mary mouthing expletives and reassuring her friend that she’ll be fine left alone with her brother.

She said she was going to get Iris’ revenge for her, that she needn’t worry about her being bullied because, in their house, she is the mother figure.

Knowing Mary, I think she meant every word she said. Jerald depends on her for most things, including cooking, cleaning and even planning their budget. I could already picture his suffering when she cursed at him, gripping Iris’ clothes like they were him and throwing them into the bag.

Though it was a bit scary, her rant and influence alone were enough to make Iris relax up until now. Even when she was asked if moving in with me was a good decision, she nodded and said it was. And now here we are, driving toward my street on the packed highway.

We pull up into the garage an hour later where Paul is already waiting to assist us with Iris’ bags by the door, his posture a little bit weird when he rounds the car after I park it. I gave him and Tim a heads-up that Iris was moving in with us for two weeks.

I didn’t want them to act shocked in front of her.

Looking at it now, I think I should have saved my energy because Paul looks shocked either way. He opens the door for Iris, who places her hand in his, performing the princess act they so like to recreate every chance they get—in my presence.

Suppressing the urge to groan, I let myself out of the car, opening the boot and taking out one of Iris’ three ginormous trunks. They’re heavy and I can’t help but wonder as Paul accepts one from my hands and takes it inside just what’s stacked in there for them to be this heavy?

"Welcome," Tim calls out from the kitchen in a plummy voice when he hears the door that leads to the garage from the storage room open. It’s near the kitchen, so it’s no surprise that he can hear us.

The air is filled with the scent of his signature chicken curry when we step inside, paired with a dense texture of spices and other curios scents, delicious as they come.

Iris inhales at the same time I do and we look at each other, sharing the moment through eye contact and smiling. She’s the first to make a move toward the kitchen, walking with such elegance and confidence, I can’t ever picture a future without her being the woman who walks inside my house like this anymore.

Ilikeher.

The moment she appears from the corridor corner, hands extend from nowhere and pull her out of my view. Taking two large strides, I peek at the culprit who pulled her. It’s Tim, and he’s grinning from ear to ear, hugging Iris like they’re long-lost friends or something.

"I made the curry I promised for you, and Harry made the rest of the food," he says gesturing at the smiling chef. Harry is like Phin’s long-lost twin—the fade cut especially.

Iris waves shyly at him, smiling and blushing at the same time. He waves back and returns to flipping the rice he’s frying, forming a curled-up barricade when he tosses the pan in the air to make the rice overturn. Tim squints his eyes at him. I can see the jealousy ripping apart as he stares at a professional doing the one thing he takes pride in better than him—cooking.

"Let me take that," Paul whispers to me, taking the suitcase away. I let him, walking inside the kitchen so I can greet Harry and stand next to Iris. Once all the formalities and introductions are done and we’ve said goodbye to Harry, the four of us line up towards the theatre room, holding popcorn bowls and juice.

I’ve already informed Paul and Tim on what I’m planning to do and we’ve come up with an idea of how we’re going to carry it out. Tim will hold the remote that controls the lights, Paul will hold the one that controls the projector. Once we’ve watched about half of the movie, Tim is supposed to slowly dim the lights.

Since she’s been crying all day today, I didn’t want to overdo it. So I told him he’ll have to dim them till it’s a bit like a bright 4am dawn—dark but one can see where they’re going clearly

If she does seem to notice that, then we’ll lower it next time, but not today. Today she gets to watch a romcom and smile because, after all that’s happened, she deserves to.

Leaning her head on my shoulder, she digs into her popcorn. I brush the strand of hair that showers over her face, lightly brushing her cheeks when I lower my hand.

"Ready to have fun?"

★★★★★