He’s now stiff as a board. I need to push through. “And you’re not that person.”
He exhales as if he got punched in the gut. “I’m sorry, Ren. Really I am. I wish a person could choose who you fall in love with, but you can’t.” He’s quiet for a beat.
“So does that mean you fell in love with someone?” he asks with a gruff voice.
“No, it’s not what this is about. I don’t know what the future holds, or who my soulmate will be.” I have an idea, but I’m not going to go there. “Love can not be forced.” You could easily fall for the person you hate.
“If you want, we can still be friends,” I try the cliche tactic.
He stands up, his handsome face pale and stricken.
“I can’t be your friend,” he says in a meek voice, “Please excuse me.” It takes me a moment to compute, but, by then, he’s already at his car. He gives me one last look.
Mindless dejection. That’s what I see when he tears out of the parking place. I stay seated for a moment or three, staring at the boats that are calmly fluxing to and fro, with no care in the world.
I’m in deep thought, trying to regain my composure, but mostly waiting for my noodle legs to stiffen enough to carry my weight when something wet presses against my leg.
“Frock!” I jump up, trip over something, fall over, and regain my balance all in one spectacular move.
“Woof.” I look down at the puppy sitting at my feet.
“Jinx?” I look around. There’s no big handsome badass in sight.
“Woof. Woof. Woof.” He keeps on barking, looking proudly up at me.
“Good boy,” Alejandro suddenly says behind me. “You found her.”
“Woof.” I turn around with a surprised smile, grateful for the distraction. And the company.
“What are you guys doing here?” He stares at me with icy blue eyes.
“Training. And you?” He stares at my dress the same way Axel has, but he doesn’t say anything. I scratch Jinx behind the ear and he leans into my legs.
“I’m trying to decide between having dinner by myself, or getting a take-away on the way home.” Alejandro turns his head towards the restaurant.
“There is another option … you could help me and Jinx with our training.”
“Training? In the restaurant?” He chuckles at my wavering question.
“A dog’s got to eat.”
“Woof,” the dog agrees.
“Well, who am I to stand between a pup and its food.” I’m still not sure dogs are allowed in restaurants, but what do I know? As soon as D-Boy gives his first step, Jinx heels on his left, and I do the same on the right, thinking that our love for food might just be something I have in common with the Doberman. We walk into Scoma’s Restaurant and Alejandro directs me to a table with a view while a delicious smell scoots through my nose and rumbles into my tummy. My mouth drools for what’s to come.
Jinx doesn’t leave his position on Alejandro’s side, his training too strong to break posture, but his little nose darts in the air, eagerly sniffing in the lavishing scent, eyes stuck on his man as if he’s genuinely concentrating to keep focus.
“You’re torturing the poor thing.” Jinx falls to the floor with a sigh, as soon as we take our seats.
“He’ll get his share, but he needs to learn to be agile no matter how big the distraction.”
And then my distraction walks straight towards us. With a woman melted into his side.
The girl is so beautiful, it’s annoying.
Her body is soaked into faded jeans with a loose emerald top that matches her smoldering eyes. She throws back a loose strand of whiskey-colored hair and struts a smile that could melt the Arctic.
But what’s cooking my goose is her arm – familiarly hooked around Damion’s as if she has every right to do that. Dammit. I will acknowledge – I’m frickin jealous.
“Hi,” she says holding out her hand, “You must be Mel.” Her greeting is warm and sincere. “I’m Thalia Green.” I’m feeling rather green. And to make it worse, she seems nice, unlike his usual bitchy bimbos.
Damion and Alejandro nod at each other like civilized cavemen. Damion’s expression is as clear as day – utterly pissed off. As for the latter, he seems to harbor a yearning desire in his gaze. One I don’t understand.
“Girl, I LUUUVV the dress,” Thalia says smirking at Damion as if sharing an inside joke.
The boys are still on their stare-off, D-boy’s eyes sparkle with misconduct, not a single hint of fear in them, even though Damion looks as if he’s going to explode.
“Thanks.” I think. It’s tight and short, but plain and the zip is pulled up to a way decent level. I really don’t see the problem.
“Mel,” the devil is killing me with his eyes, I’m sure.
“Damion.” Without another word, they walk off. I peer after them with a bereaved look and Thalia looks back like a mouse in a cheese factory. Yeah, girl, you won.
“You know, my gran always says, if it has tires or testicles it’s going to give you trouble,” Alejandro snickers. “And he’s sort of both.”
Through the window I see him helping her with her helmet before they get onto his bike.
Trouble. That’s an understatement.
My phone vibrates and I slide it open. I jolt up and start running to the door, but they’re gone. A horrifyingly pathetic whimper comes from my throat.
D Stalker: Mayday! Mayday! A little biker took a tumble!
My legs wobble and give way, and I brace myself with one hand as I fall onto my knees on the tar.
Date = 7 November
Place = San Francisco (Scoma’s Restaurant)