KIRK
I take one quick step back, place both my hands under my face, but I do it a fraction of a second too late; the incoming fist smashes straight into my defense, pushing its way past my raised hands and hitting me straight in the face.
“Keep your hands up!” One of the random dudes watching the fight cries out, but I barely register his words. I’m too busy trying not to be beaten to death.
“One more,” Tad grunts through his mouthpiece, a crooked smile on his face. He jumps from side to side, throwing soft jabs against my hands as he looks for another opening.
“Screw you,” I pant, avoiding his next punch but almost tripping on my own feet. Taking the chance, he pushes forward and lands another punch straight into my ribs. I try to counter, but that leaves me open for a straight right; it lands on my face and I tumble back, falling on my ass.
“The mighty Kirk has finally gone down!” Tad laughs, taking off his mouthpiece and offering me his hand. I let him pull me up to my feet, and I sigh heavily, hardly believing that I just got knocked down by a guy like Tad. Sure, he’s fast and he hits hard, but this is the first time that he managed to knock me down. Usually I’m the one towering over him after a sparring session.
“Yeah, don’t count on that happening again,” I groan, one hand over the ribs where he landed his punch.
“You’re off your game today,” he continues, looking at me with a curious glance. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing… I just have a lot on my mind,” I reply, ducking under the ropes and jumping off the ring. Taking the boxing gloves off, I run one hand through my sweat-soaked hair and sit down on one of the ring-side chairs.
All around me there’s the sound of weights rattling in their bars, groans of effort filling the whole gym as someone tries to go one more rep. The place doesn’t look like much; it’s a rundown gym, after all, but I’ve been coming here for ages now. I’ve never been a fan of the hip fitness culture, with its bright colors and whatnot, and a place as rugged as this one feels like home to me. Whenever I have some free time, you can usually find me here, hitting the weights or sparring with whoever’s around; more often than not, Tad’s the one facing me.
We’ve been friends for ages and, back when I was getting my business off the ground, he was one of my early investors. I’d say that I owe him, but he made such an enormous profit with his investment in my bars that it’s fair to say I don’t owe him anything anymore.
“Seriously, man,” he says, sitting on the free chair to my right. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look… I don’t know, I’m not used to seeing you like this.”
“Yeah, well… Like I said, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Business trouble? If you need anything, you can just ask me and -” “Nah, it’s not that,” I cut him short, and a smile takes over his face in an
instant.
“Then it’s a woman, huh?” he laughs, taking his own gloves off and throwing them on the floor at his feet. “It’s always a woman,” he muses to himself knowingly; after all, Tad also has his own reputation as a playboy. I’ve met a lot of his flings, but I never actually met a girlfriend, and that’s because he’s as afraid of a relationship as I am.
Or as I was.
“Yeah, it’s this girl I met…” I admit, distractedly watching as two of the younger kids take over the ring. They help each other put their gloves on and then they move to opposite corners. It doesn’t take long for them to be swinging haymakers at each other, throwing punches as if they were drunk.
“The blonde one…? What was her name?”
“Emily,” I reply, my heart tightening as I feel her name rolling off my tongue. “I don’t even know why I feel like this. You know how I usually do things, one and done, but this time it’s different… I’ve been with her a few times already, and I spend my day thinking of the next time we’ll be together.”
“Woah, man… What have you been drinking, estrogen? Because that’s girl talk,” he laughs, staring at me with a mocking expression. “Soon enough you’ll start to grow boobs.”
“Really fucking mature,” I grumble, and he just places one hand on my shoulder.
“It’s alright, man… It happens. You’re falling for her, aren’t you?” “Yeah… Yeah, I’m falling for her,” I confess and, God, it feels good to
say it out loud.
“So, what’s the problem? Falling in love isn’t the end of the world. I know I’m always making fun of couples and shit, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love… I’m just waiting for the right one, you know? And it looks like you’ve found it. So cheer up!”
“It’s not that easy, Tad,” I sigh, Freeway’s text message flashing like a beacon inside my head. “She’s seeing other guys.”
“She’s seeing other guys?” he repeats after me, as if he’s trying to decode my words. “Oh, I see… You told her you didn’t want anything serious, and she took your words at face value, uh?”
“Yeah, I guess you can say it happened like that.”
“Well, that’s your own fault, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter, though; I was right, it seems like you met the right girl for you,” he laughs again, punching my shoulder.
“What do you mean?” I ask him, glancing at him curiously. How does he know that Emily’s the right girl for me? She hasn’t even met her.
“Haven’t you noticed? She’s the female version of you” The female version of me…?
Fucking Christ. He’s fucking right.
There’s only one problem.
I can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing.
EMILY
Straightening the front of my dress, I take one more spin in front of the mirror. I’m wearing a tight black dress, one that’s half-sexy, half-slutty, and I gotta say… I look good. Now, maybe I shouldn’t be praising myself, but what can I do? My mother always told me to be honest. Besides, it’s a good thing that I’m feeling confident tonight… After all, tonight’s the night.
That’s right, tonight I’m having dinner with Mr. Freeway himself. I have a good feeling about it and, even if it goes badly, I’ll still be able to take WineBar out of my mind for a few hours.
Is there sex involved? We’ll see…
Checking the time on my watch, I breath in deeply and grab my purse from the bed. Slinging it over my shoulder, I walk out of the apartment and, five minutes later, I’m inside a taxi.
“The La Lanterna di Vittorio restaurant, please,” I tell the driver, and he gives me a quick nod before pulling the taxi onto the road. The drive there doesn’t take more than ten minutes, which means that by the time I stroll through the doors of this cozy Italian restaurant I’m already ten minutes late. Or, as my mother would say, fashionably late.
Freeway’s sitting at one of the tables at the center, the light of two candles making his face glow. I smile at him as we lock eyes and, almost as if he has a spring under his chair, he jumps up to his feet.
“You look stunning,” he tells me as he pulls my chair, offering me a seat. “I can say the same,” I reply, allowing my eyes to roam up and down
what looks like a tailored suit. I usually don’t like when guys show up to dates wearing a suit (we’re not in the 50s anymore, c’mon!), but I guess I have to open up an exception here; Freeway’s suit looks like it’s his second skin.
More often than not, the first minutes of conversation in a first date are always icy and stilted… but that isn’t happening right now. The conversation just flows and, before I know it, I’m laughing like a little girl.
Oh, I was right; going out on a date with Freeway was definitely a good decision. He’s handsome, funny, witty… And he actually picked a nice restaurant for a date. I can’t tell you how many guys I went out with thought that a fast-food joint was a good idea.
“It’s actually pretty boring, but I travel a lot, so… I guess it pays off,” Freeway tells me, pouring the rest of the red wine into my glass. Since you just came in the middle of our conversation, let me put you up to speed; he was just telling me all about how boring his life as a Head of Trading for a big investment bank…hmm, lets call it Carter Jeffries is…
Yeah, I know. Eligibility? Check.
“You like travelling then.” Grabbing my glass, I take it to my lips, and I have to resist the urge to down the whole thing at once. Jesus, Freeway really knows how to pick his wines; he’s almost as much of a connoisseur as WineBar is.
“Yeah, nothing beats travelling… I’ve been to almost every country on the planet, you know? I’m pretty lucky to have the chance to do that,” he admits. Well, at least he’s being humble about it. If I were as wealthy as he seems, I bet I’d be completely insufferable; I’d spend the whole day rubbing the fact that I’m filthy rich into everyone’s face.
“Of course,” he continues, “nothing beats the life of a writer. It’s all about Starbucks for you, huh?” He teases me, smiling as he cuts another portion of his steak.
“Uhmmm, you wish… It’s more about sleepless nights and having to wear reading glasses because your eyes are all shot from being in front of a computer screen for too long,” I sigh, chomping on my lower lip as I remember that I must have Lana’s emails piling up on my inbox by now. She’s eager to get started on a new book, but I’ve been completely distracted by all this Freeway/WineBar situation.
Oh, well.
“Sleepless nights sound like fun… And reading glasses are sexy,” he tells me, placing his elbows on the table and leaning slightly forward. Even though we’re sitting in the middle of a fancy (and crowded) restaurant, the way he’s gazing at me makes me feel as if we’re the only two people in the room.
“Oh, come on,” I laugh, feeling my cheeks turn crimson, and of course, my pussy growing wet. Who knew that a man I met on the freeway (of all places) would turn out to be a charming devil? He went above and beyond all of my expectations, that’s for sure.
“Just telling it like I see it.” He smiles softly, his eyes locked on mine, and I feel my heart tightening up. Oh, he’s good; he’s really, really good. “I wouldn’t lie to a woman as beautiful as you are,” he adds then, grabbing his glass and raising it. Smiling back at him, I grab my own glass and return his impromptu toast.
“And do you approach all beautiful woman you see on the freeway?” I ask him, unable to stop myself. I guess the alcohol is already taking hold.
“Only those with a smile like yours,” he shoots back in a fraction of a second, almost as if his answer was already waltzing on the tip of his tongue. That’s it, I don’t care how corny his replies might be, he’s definitely winning me over.
“Is that what you’re looking for? Just a beautiful smile?”
“No, not just that. I’m looking for a woman… A real woman, you know? Someone who’s not afraid of commitment.” Then, as if he had just remembered we’re on his first date, he then adds with a soft chuckle: “No pressure, Emily.”
“None at all,” I say, chuckling with him. More than feeling pressured by his words, I feel pretty happy about them; I’ve had this urge for commitment inside me for quite a bit now, and here he is, a man as handsome and charming as this… and he’s telling me all about how much he craves commitment.
Can it be…? Is Marshall Kane, Mr. Freeway, the man I’ve been looking for?
I spend the rest of the night with that question burning inside my mind and so, when he finally asks me if I want him to drive me home, I tell him ‘yes’ as fast as I can. Smiling, he hands the waiter his credit card before I can do anything about it, and then he escorts me out of the restaurant with his arm tangled on mine.
Sitting on the passenger’s seat of his black Mercedes as he holds the door for me… I gotta say, I feel like a true princess. And being alone with him in his car, I don’t know… It makes me anxious, and that in the good sense. I keep the whole ride waiting for him to pull into some dark alley… Mm, I’d just slide my thong down my legs, pull him into me, and act like an horny teenager on a forbidden date night.
I wait and I wait for that to happen, but that moment never comes. Instead, he drives all the way to the front of my apartment building, and he stops the car. “There you are,” he tells me softly.
“Here I am,” I repeat, and then he just leans into me and brushes his lips against mine. Before I have the time to pull him into me, he pulls back from his kiss and gives me a parting smile. “I really enjoyed it tonight.”
“So have I…” I whisper, wondering if I should invite him upstairs. “Do you wanna -?” I start, pointing up at my apartment building, but he just crushes his lips against mine and silences me.
“No… I want to take my time with you,” he tells me, looking straight into my eyes. “I don’t want to rush anything,” he then adds, his voice deep and making my skin prickle.
“Like a true gentleman.”
I’m stunned, really, how many guys would turn down the chance to go up to a woman’s apartment after their first date together and fuck her brains out? Not many. But that’s exactly what Freeway has done and, as I step outside his car and head toward my apartment building, I’m still thinking of his words.
I want to take my time with you.
Wow. Romance isn’t dead, ladies. It’s still here in real life.