He was enticing in every way. The way his body moved swiftly around the ring as I watched him from behind the bar. He was the best. And the best never loses.
When Blake Anderson gets a job as a bartender at the local fight club, Chargers, she meets...
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It was Friday and my last class of the day. I've already had multiple late nights at Chargers, Harry had fights as well. Many of them ended with us back at his place or mine, whichever depended on if Anna was going to be home that night.
Her hearing us has mentally scarred me.
I sat in my usual spot in the back of the lecture hall, taking notes on paper as well as on my computer. The paper notes being mainly instructional ones about the future research paper and the electronic ones being informational on the subject.
Anatomy was a class I thrived in. We had another paper coming up. A report of homeostasis examples throughout the body systems. An interesting topic at that.
I sat next to a random girl, never once talking to her before. I wasn't a very socially outgoing type. I could hold a conversation well and I can talk to new people if they approach me, but if I had to go up to someone and ask if they wanted to be friends, I'd rather die.
Class was only ending when she finally said something to me.
"You work at Chargers, right?" She had a deeper voice than I expected, however, still feminine. She was a dark brunette, her chocolate brown skin was completely flawless. She was a beautiful woman. Her lashes framed her eyes perfectly, but there was something hidden behind her irises that could only represent evil.
"Depends on who's asking." I say with a smile, not thinking anything of her question yet, but still being cautious.
"Just heard from a friend." A friend. Who would possibly be talking about my employment unless they are suspicious.
"And aparently you're fucking H?" She continues on and my head snaps back around towards her. I drop my things back on my desk in shock.
"I'm sorry?" My brows furrow and my lips turn into an incredulous frown. Who is this woman and why does she care so much about my personal life?
"It was a very simple question." She shrugs. She's resting her entire body weight on one hip, giving her bitch attitude even more of a defined character.
"Actually it was phrased more as a statement if you want to get technical." My phone is in my back pocket. I need to press record. My fingers reach into the back on my jeans, pulling my phone from the pocket. Before I seem suspicious, acting as if I'm checking the time, I start a video recording and slide my phone back into my pocket.
I want her voice on recording. Maybe Grant can do a voice recognition test and see what her connection is to all of this.
"So you did hear me?" She continues on, not suspecting anything. "You are fucking H?"
"He's my boyfriend so I guess you could say that."
I try to end the conversation there by starting to place things in my backpack, not making eye contact any more. However, she stands her ground and doesn't move. She continues on talking.
