When The Wrong One Loves You Right 1: A New Life

Chapter 9: The Date

As I get to the bar I see Mark casually leaned against his motorcycle. My heart feels warm, could it be that he was the sexiest guy on the planet? With all the people around, I see only him. He walks toward me with his charmer smile. I can feel women's eyes scrutinizing me.

"Looking as beautiful as ever angel."

"You're not too bad yourself, stud."

We make our way inside the bar.

"After you." He says ushering me inside.

We sit at a table.

"Have you been riding for a while?" I ask.

"Yes." He says not really paying attention.

I watch him amused. It seems like when he is around there is never enough room. He looks for a place to put his helmet. He gets settled and we order our drinks. The waitress comes over quickly. She pouts seductively at Mark. I wonder if he realizes the impact he has on girls.

"What?" He asks.

"You really don't see anything do you?"

"See what?"

"The waitress, if she could sit on your lap I'm sure she would."

He quickly glances at the waitress. His eyes glimmer back to mine.

"Oh, I see." He smiles. "Your jealous."

I laugh.

"Of her? Please. Your forgetting that I'm here with you, she's not. It's not jealousy, it's called being territorial. She could be more professional."

"Not all women are as charming as you angel. You should show her a little compassion."

We are interrupted by the waitress bringing us our drinks. She has readjusted her shirt now proudly displaying her cleavage.

I scowl at her. She doesn't notice, she's too busy drooling over Mark. Mark smiles at me thoroughly amused by my reaction. She walks away and he laughs.

"You're not in the ring, don't hurt the girl. She hasn't done anything to you. It is unbelievable how women treat each other. If I were a girl, I would not want to be your enemy."

"Lucky you're not a girl. So, we don't have to be enemies."

"Yeah, but my point is girls are nasty to each other, so fiercely aggressive."

"You're not going to start fantasizing about her and I mud wrestling, are you?"

"Now that you mention it, it doesn't sound like such a bad idea"

"Mark!"

He laughs and looks away. He looks back at me with penetrating eyes while he stirs his drink with his straw.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" He asks.

"My father set it up. The one who trained me was Dante, he taught me everything I know. I told him about what happened with the neighbor. In the ring, the kicks and bruises helped me get rid of the pain and rage I felt inside."

"Was your dad angry when you told him? Didn't he want to smash the son of a bitches face in?"

"Yes, he was infuriated. The whole family had moved houses a year after he was caught. My dad wanted to hunt him down and kill him, my mom stopped my dad from doing it."

"When did it start?" Mark said staring at me intently. I knew I had his full attention.

"When I was two. I didn't understand at first that it was wrong I just knew I didn't like it. When I finally told my dad I was ashamed, like it was my fault. I didn't want to stir things up, I just wanted to forget."