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It was so like Mark.
Not man enough to fight, but lawyer enough to sue.
Chad picked up the only glass of wine that had not been knocked from the table and poured it over Mark’s face to drown out his words.
“Chad!” I yelled, getting to my feet and stepping back. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Exactly what you wanted me to do,” he said with a frown. “I saw that look in your eye. You can’t deny it. You wanted me to kick this guy’s ass and I did.” He stepped closer and gave me the smile that used to melt me in my panties. “Now, why don’t we go back to your place and— “
His words were cut short by my hand going across his face.
He took a step back, stunned, but smiling, still smiling.
“Good to see you still like it rough,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “And you haven’t lost your touch.”
/> Mark was squirming on the floor. The maître d’ was trying to help him up. Someone mentioned calling the cops. Chad was still looking at me… smiling… licking his lips…
I felt the moisture start to flow in force. Pooling in my panties like water from a hot spring. My nipples plumped in my bra. My mouth was literally watering for him. I wanted to touch him, to feel him, to have him inside me. It was as if I was under his control…
Control…
Dammit…
I was losing control…
Fuck it… I had lost control…
As if I had ever had it to lose.
The only moment I was in control of my relationship with Chad was the moment I walked out the door for the last time.
“Goodbye, Chad,” I said, shaking my head as I reached for my purse. “Please don’t ever call me again.”
CHAPTER TWELVE: Chad
I could not fucking believe Zoe was leaving. Again. I had put this guy on his ass for her and she had the nerve to blow up at me and rush out of the restaurant as if I did something wrong?
Fuck her.
That’s what I wanted to say.
Fuck her.
But something in my brain said no, fuck you if you let her get away again.
I tried to race after her. That look in her eyes, the way she stared me like I had just punched her mother, it really hit me hard. I had never expected to get that look from her. I expected shy, awkward maybe, but never straight out hate. And for what? The lowlife that was writhing on the floor and crying out like a fucking baby because I’d broken his fat nose? The motherfucker should thank me. I was sure it would improve his looks.
The waiters held me back for a bit, and the maître d’ told me the police were coming, but I tossed two hundred-dollar bills on the table and pushed past them. By the time I had made it outside the restaurant, she was gone. I cursed out loud, making a few heads turn.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” I screamed at a lady who made sure there was enough distance between me and her as she walked past.
I tried to calm down. I had an image to maintain, after all, and soon my face would be plastered all over the city. I couldn’t let something like this blow that all to hell.
I stood on the sidewalk, fuming as I waved down a cab. I was angry. Fucking furious. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to play out. When I had asked Zoe to dinner, I had intended for a small romantic dinner with maybe a quick kiss goodnight and the promise to do this again. Nothing more. Seriously, nothing more. I just wanted to spend some time with her, catch up, maybe get some closure or just see where things might lead. And to do it the right way. Like the gentleman she wanted me to be. Right now, those plans were as badly crushed as that guy’s nose.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, the taxi dropped me in front of Zoe’s building. I handed the driver a hundred and told him to keep the change. I was less furious at Zoe now, but still seething at myself. Why couldn’t I have just let her handle the guy? I mean, obviously, there was something there that… holy shit… Jesus, Chad… you stupid fuck… obviously that was someone she had been seeing… someone she must have cared for at one time… And I had driven his face into the table…
