by Lola StVil
I’m halfway through my first sip of wine when a husky man with a beard walks over to my table and licks his lips as he scans me. And right away I feel the need to take a shower. But then I remind myself that this is also part of the experience of going out alone.
“You look like you need company,” he says, dripping with lust.
“No, thank you. I’m fine—alone,” I reply in a kind yet firm voice.
“You’re damn right you’re fine…” he says as he takes a seat in the chair next to me. I fly out of my chair as my heart pounds inside my chest. He stands up too.
“Look, I just came to get a drink, I’m not looking for company,” I reply, determined to stay calm.
“I know exactly what you came for, honey,” he says as he licks his lips yet again. “And I got it right here,” he says, coming in closer.
“Yes, well I’m sure you got it. And I’m also sure it will take at least six months of penicillin for you to get rid of it. Now, can you please leave me alone?”
He grabs my arm and glares at me. “You rich bitches think you can talk down to me? You think you’re better than me?” he demands. This is the point where I’m supposed to crumble and beg him to let go of me. But I don’t. Maybe it’s because I’m in public or maybe it’s because I really have had enough. But for whatever reason, instead of cowering to him, I knee him hard in the groin. My attack catches him off guard, and he groans and bends over.
“Learn to take a hint: when she says go away, she means go away,” I shout over the sound of his groan.
“Oh, and really, those boots with that shirt?” I add as I shake my head. He looks up and glares at me.
“You bitch!” he rages as he charges towards me.
Oh shit! Oh shit!
I quickly run through the crowd and towards the exit. I bolt out of the bar and onto the street. I slam right into a brick wall.
What the hell?
I look up and it’s not a wall, it’s a man that’s built like one—a strong, sturdy, muscle-bound wall. And I slammed right into his very well defined, chiseled, and massive chest.
He’s got to be at least six three, with dark hair, broad shoulders, and a sharply chiseled face that could easily rival any Greek god. His powerful biceps are flexed as they adsorb the unprovoked assault. I look into his eyes, expecting to see annoyance, or anger that I crashed into him. But instead, I see something that throws me off—concern.
Before either of us can say anything, the idiot from the bar bursts through the door, and right away the stranger knows who I was running from. His look of concern quickly changes. And now, a murderous rage lies just beneath the surface. The change is swift and absolute. My blood runs cold.
The idiot stares back, sizing up the stranger. It doesn’t take him long to figure out what I somehow already know—taking on the stranger is dangerous, if not lethal. The idiot inhales deeply and puffs his chest out. The stranger looks back, unmoved. There’s no need for him to puff out his chest; his sheer mass is enough. The idiot wisely retreats inside the bar.
“You good?” he asks, in a firm and commanding tone that actually scares me.
“Ah, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry. He was…I tried to…um, thanks,” I mutter as I quickly start to walk away. I’m afraid of him. Yeah, I know that’s stupid since he just helped me out, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good guy.
There are no good guys…
He follows me and calls out something, but I can’t hear him clearly. I pick up my pace. He picks up his. I start running. My heart is pounding in my ears as I run down the street. It’s pointless; his long legs enable him to close the gap between us quickly. I run across the street and into traffic.
It was such a stupid thing to do, but I had to get away from him. The cars honk their horns and a driver heads straight for me. The driver is looking down at his cell and doesn’t see me. There’s no time to think, no time to regret my choice of outfits for my last day on Earth. All I can think is that maybe this is a good thing, maybe now I will be free.
Seconds later, I’m being hurled to the ground, but not by the car, by something far more powerful and aggressive: the stranger. He tackles me and sends me back onto the sidewalk. The hit sends shock waves down my body, but it’s nothing like what would have happened had the car hit me. The stranger is on top of me, looking angrily into my face.
“What the hell is your problem, lady?”
“You were chasing me.”
“To give you back your purse. You dropped it back at the bar.”
“Oh.”
“Un-fucking-believable. You could have gotten yourself killed!” he says as he rolls off me. He extends his hand, but I reject it and slowly gather myself up on my own. I take my handbag from him and inspect it.
“Oh no,” I mutter.
“What is it?”
“My handbag, you scratched it!”
“I saved your life.”
“Well, you should have saved my handbag.”
“Are you fucking joking?”
“Humans come and go, but a Chanel handbag is forever. And now, so is the scratch you put on it,” I reply.
He plants his face inside his wide hands and says, “Unbelievable.”
“Me? You were chasing me, and then you tackled me. Is that what you have to do to meet women?”
He looks up and says, “Forget it. Just didn’t want you to die. That’s all.” He shakes his head, annoyed. He starts to walk away.
“Wait! I’m…sorry. I was being rude and—”
“Ungrateful.”
“Okay, that’s a little too far,” I reply, crossing my hands over my chest.
“Again, saved your life,” he says.
“Again, Chanel handbag.”
He laughs mirthlessly and looks up at the sky as if asking God for help. “Fine, next time I see a woman running out of a sleazy bar with some dickhead in tow, I’ll be sure to ask her handbag if it would like some help.”
“Look, you did help me out, so thanks for that. But I would have been fine without your help. I had the situation under control.”
“Yeah, sure you did,” he mumbles, growing more frustrated.
“Well, I did!” I reply, not sure why I let his tone get to me.
“Okay, fine. I get it. You are Wonder Woman. I should have let you fight your own battles and fly off in your invisible airplane.”
“Damn right you should have. I’m not helpless. I don’t need you or anyone else!”
“Glad to hear it, Wonder Woman.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He turns around and faces me. His voice is filled with frustration and disbelief. “Look, Wonder—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Too late. From now on, you’ll always be ‘Wonder,’ the superhero that can almost save herself.”
“Okay, maybe I needed a little help back there, but I would have figured something out. I’m not some lost little girl waiting to be rescued, thank you very much.”
“Got it. Won’t happen again,” he snaps as he starts to walk away again.
“Wait! I have a question.” Actually, I don’t have a question. It’s just that I hate the thought of him walking off down the street and fading away forever.
Really, Shelby? Because moments ago you were running away from him.
Yes, and I still want that distance. I just don’t want him to be gone completely from my view, at least not right this moment.
Shelby, what the hell, woman?
“Well, what’s the question?” he asks.
“What question?” I ask, as his voice jars me out of my thoughts.
He hangs his head, suggesting he’s at his wit’s end.
Well fine, Mr. Hot and Impossibly Sexy. I will make it quick.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Gage.”
“Wow, okay. I wasn’t expecting that. Nice name.”
“Glad you approve.”
“I do. Gage, one more thing—”
“Why is New York City spinning?” Before he can reply, the streetlights fade. My knees buckle, and everything goes dark.
END OF CHAPTER ONE PREVIEW,
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