by Mia Ford
“I’m not gonna fuck you for old time sake, Chad,” I said, and even before the words were out of my mouth, I felt a shudder of excitement race through my body. Even his eyes went wide, and there was a small part of me, the one not shocked at what I had just said, that was thrilled to see the look of surprise on his face.
His smile faded into a frown. He blinked at me. “What are you saying?”
I opened my mouth, closed it, then sighed.
Oh, what the hell?
I had nothing to lose.
“If this is just payback or some weird plan to fuck me,” I said, leaning in, lowering my voice to a growl. “Then don’t get your hopes up. I’m not going to sleep with you because I feel bad about breaking up with you. I don’t. I never have.”
It was a lie, but he didn’t have to know that.
Chad began to laugh and let go of my hand. “Wow, you really have changed, Zoe,” he said. “Don’t worry. This is just me taking an old friend out for dinner. Catching up. That sort of thing. What’s in the past is in the past. No agenda. You have my word.”
For some reason, I didn’t really believe a word he said, and a voice in my head chastised me for being so blunt. You were just masturbating to the thought of him in the shower. I returned his smile and shook my head. Sure, he was doing things to me that I wish I could have controlled, but it was my choice just how much of it became a reality. I wasn’t going to let another man into my life just to have him walk all over me again. I had that with Chad once, and Mark, and I was sick of it.
Thankfully, the waiter came with the food, giving us a welcome break in the tense conversation. As the food was set out, Chad and I sat back and stared at each other, as if we were trying to read each other’s minds.
“Let’s shift gears and eat,” Chad said, leaning over his plate to inhale the aroma steaming off the spaghetti. He reached for his silverware. “Martin assures me the food’s delicious here.”
I lay my napkin in my lap and picked up my fork and knife. The knife was hovering over a piece of chicken when a couple stepping up to the bar caught my eye. Without meaning to, I said, “Oh, shit…”
Chad looked up with a mouth full of spaghetti and frowned. “What’s wrong? Did they screw up your food?”
“No, it’s just… shit…”
It was too late to look away. Mark had spotted me. He was standing at the bar with a busty brunette on his arm that was not his wife. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled, then he slid her on to a barstool and headed my way.
“Well, look who we have here,” Mark said, hands out, all smiles. “Didn’t expect to run into you out on the town.”
“Hello, Mark,” I said, trying to ignore his amused smirk. I held the knife and squeezed my fingers tightly around the handle. My eyes briefly met Chad’s, and I could see that he noticed how uncomfortable I was. His forehead wrinkled as he glanced up at Mark.
“And who’s your friend, Zoe?” Mark asked, folding his arms over his chest and turning to stare down at Chad.
“Chad Walters,” Chad said curtly.
“Chad Walters of Body by Chad?” Mark asked, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Fitness guy. Out of Los Angeles or Las Vegas or someplace like that. You were on that show before Zoe’s interview this morning.”
“I was,” Chad replied, looking up at Mark like a lion about to pounce. There was a tiny vein pulsating along Chad’s right temple. I’d seen that vein before. The night Chad mopped up a dive bar with a drunk who had made the mistake of hitting on me in front of him.
“Well, good for you,” Mark said, giving Chad a condescending up and down look. I thought about warning Mark that he was inching close to the edge of Chad’s tolerance, then thought better of it. I assumed Chad would not make a scene, even though Mark seemed determined to. He turned to me and sneered. God, what did I ever see in this man?
“So, Zoe, I was trying to call you earlier,” Mark said. “Kept going to voicemail.”
My mind briefly registered the phone call I had ignored before going into the shower. I never checked who it was.
“I was busy,” I said.
“I can see that,” Mark said, glancing at Chad again, his voice filled with innuendo. “Listen, I need to talk to you. The last time you called, I was in a bit of a bad place, and might have said a few things I didn’t mean.”
“Might have?” I asked, suddenly unable to disguise my anger. I shook the knife at him and he playfully held up his hands. “I think you called me a fucking skank, Mark. So yeah, you might have said a few things you shouldn’t have, but I seriously doubt you regret them.”
I could see the anger building in Chad’s face. “He called you a what?”
“Please, Chad, it’s fine,” I said. “I’ve got this.”
Mark chuckled, as if I had said something funny. From the corner of my eye, I could see Chad gently put down his cutlery and wipe his hands and mouth on a napkin.
“Yeah, well, you had that coming, I’m afraid,” Mark said with a sigh. “But hey, I’m a forgiving guy, so, why don’t we go somewhere private and talk –”
“I think you’re done talking,” Chad said, his thick fingers flexing on the table, the vein in his temple throbbing like a snake in a bag. “You need to step away before you get hurt.”
Mark turned to him, his fake lawyer smile plastered across his face. He had been drinking. I could see it in his eyes and smell it on his breath. When Mark drank, his balls grew a couple of sizes. Which, for someone like Chad, just made them a bigger target.
Mark snarled at him. “What did you say?”
“I said, we’re trying to have a nice, quiet dinner, and you’re kinda fucking it up,” Chad replied calmly. He cut his eyes at Mark. The threat was there. I knew what was going to happen and I should have stopped it, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted to see what Chad would do to Mark.
Mark turned to me with a look of utter disdain and jabbed a thumb toward Chad. “Who is this fucking guy to you?” he asked, scowling. “Really, Zoe, I thought you could do better than some muscled up asshole like this piece of shit.”
I barely had time to blink, Chad moved so quickly. He was out of his seat in a second, and before I knew what was happening, Mark’s face was slamming against the table so hard everything on the table jumped. Out of reflex, I supposed, Mark grabbed at the table cloth as he sunk to the floor, taking the wine and our dinner with him. He ended up in a heap on the floor, covered in wine and spaghetti sauce.
“What the hell, Chad?” I screamed, suddenly furious even though I knew what was going to happen. My mind was racing and everyone in the restaurant was looking at us. And I felt like a total hypocrite. I wanted Chad to put Mark in his place, but I wasn’t expecting… this. Still, I could not deny the tingle in my clit or the dampness in my panties. Fuck. I knew this was a bad idea.
Mark moaned on the floor, rolling onto one side as he clenched his nose. Blood ran through his fingers and dripped onto the restaurant floor.
“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, his voice muffled. “I’m going to sue your ass!”
It was so like Mark.
Not man enough to fight, but lawyer enough to sue.
Chad picked up the only glass of wine that had not been knocked from the table and poured it over Mark’s face to drown out his words.
“Chad!” I yelled, getting to my feet and stepping back. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Exactly what you wanted me to do,” he said with a frown. “I saw that look in your eye. You can’t deny it. You wanted me to kick this guy’s ass and I did.” He stepped closer and gave me the smile that used to melt me in my panties. “Now, why don’t we go back to your place and— “
His words were cut short by my hand going across his face.
He took a step back, stunned, but smiling, still smiling.
“Good to see you still like it rough,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “And you haven’t lost your touch.”
/> Mark was squirming on the floor. The maître d’ was trying to help him up. Someone mentioned calling the cops. Chad was still looking at me… smiling… licking his lips…
I felt the moisture start to flow in force. Pooling in my panties like water from a hot spring. My nipples plumped in my bra. My mouth was literally watering for him. I wanted to touch him, to feel him, to have him inside me. It was as if I was under his control…
Control…
Dammit…
I was losing control…
Fuck it… I had lost control…
As if I had ever had it to lose.
The only moment I was in control of my relationship with Chad was the moment I walked out the door for the last time.
“Goodbye, Chad,” I said, shaking my head as I reached for my purse. “Please don’t ever call me again.”
CHAPTER TWELVE: Chad
I could not fucking believe Zoe was leaving. Again. I had put this guy on his ass for her and she had the nerve to blow up at me and rush out of the restaurant as if I did something wrong?
Fuck her.
That’s what I wanted to say.
Fuck her.
But something in my brain said no, fuck you if you let her get away again.
I tried to race after her. That look in her eyes, the way she stared me like I had just punched her mother, it really hit me hard. I had never expected to get that look from her. I expected shy, awkward maybe, but never straight out hate. And for what? The lowlife that was writhing on the floor and crying out like a fucking baby because I’d broken his fat nose? The motherfucker should thank me. I was sure it would improve his looks.
The waiters held me back for a bit, and the maître d’ told me the police were coming, but I tossed two hundred-dollar bills on the table and pushed past them. By the time I had made it outside the restaurant, she was gone. I cursed out loud, making a few heads turn.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” I screamed at a lady who made sure there was enough distance between me and her as she walked past.
I tried to calm down. I had an image to maintain, after all, and soon my face would be plastered all over the city. I couldn’t let something like this blow that all to hell.
I stood on the sidewalk, fuming as I waved down a cab. I was angry. Fucking furious. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to play out. When I had asked Zoe to dinner, I had intended for a small romantic dinner with maybe a quick kiss goodnight and the promise to do this again. Nothing more. Seriously, nothing more. I just wanted to spend some time with her, catch up, maybe get some closure or just see where things might lead. And to do it the right way. Like the gentleman she wanted me to be. Right now, those plans were as badly crushed as that guy’s nose.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, the taxi dropped me in front of Zoe’s building. I handed the driver a hundred and told him to keep the change. I was less furious at Zoe now, but still seething at myself. Why couldn’t I have just let her handle the guy? I mean, obviously, there was something there that… holy shit… Jesus, Chad… you stupid fuck… obviously that was someone she had been seeing… someone she must have cared for at one time… And I had driven his face into the table…
Shit.
No wonder she was pissed.
Maybe she was still carrying a torch for him.
Maybe I was just wasting my time because of my stupid pride.
“Fuck it,” I said under my breath as I plastered on my best smile and nodded to the doorman, then went up to the desk. There was a big guy in a blue blazer behind the desk, older with a gray buzz cut and suspicious eyes. He stared as I approached. I had waited in the cab when I picked Zoe up. I hadn’t paid much attention to the building where she lived. A fucking doorman? A concierge? Marble floors? Zoe was doing fine for herself. This was a far cry from that little apartment I was giving her shit about at dinner.
“Hi, can you ring Zoe Maxwell for me,” I said formally, giving him my best “I mean you no harm” smile.
“Is she expecting you?” he asked, still giving me a suspicious eye.
“No, but I’m sure she’ll see me,” I said. I set another hundred-dollar bill on the desk and slid it toward him. “Tell her it’s Chad Walters. We were just at dinner and she left her cellphone in the cab.”
He squinted at me for a second, then pushed the hundred bucks back toward me. He picked up the phone and dialed. “Miss Maxwell, Hank at the desk. Yes, ma’am. There’s a gentleman in the lobby to see you. Yes, Mr. Walters...”
Hank went silent for a few seconds, then said, “He says you forgot your cellphone at dinner and he has it.” More silence, a nod. “Yes, Miss Maxwell. No problem at all.” He hung up and folded his thick arms over his chest. He nodded at the door. “Miss Maxwell says her cellphone is with her, and that I should ask you to leave. Politely. Or call the police if you refuse to go.”
“Ah, okay, my mistake then,” I said holding up my hands, taking a step back. “You have a good night.”
Twelfth floor. She said she was on the twelfth floor.
I turned around and broke into a sprint past the desk.
“Hey!” Hank yelled as I raced past him.
I immediately made for the stairwell at the end of the corridor. I threw my weight against the stairwell door and began taking the stairs by twos. I could hear Hank huffing behind me, yelling, but after the first two floors, I was sure I had lost him. There was no way he was going to run up twelve flights of stairs without having a fucking heart attack.
I burst out of the stairwell at the twelfth floor, sweating and panting, and stood frozen at the end of the hall. There were a dozen apartments on the floor, and nothing at all to even hint at which one was Zoe’s.
“Zoe!” I yelled, slamming my fist repeatedly on the first two doors nearest me. “Zoe open the fucking door!”
I heard the chimes of the elevator and knew that Hank had caught up with me. He came barreling off the elevator with the look of a man possessed and grabbed me by the arm. I was about to swirl around and punch him in the face when a door behind me opened. We both turned to look at Zoe, who still looked stunning in her little black cocktail dress.
“Chad, what the fuck are you doing?” she asked.
“I came to apologize,” I said, wrestling out of Hank’s grip. The man might not have been fit, but he was strong as hell, and quickly twisted my arm behind my back and pushed me against the wall. I got the feeling that he was an old cop used to dealing with assholes like me.
“Sorry, Miss Maxwell,” Hank said. “I’ll take him downstairs and call the police.”
Another door opened and an elderly woman stuck her head out. Then a second door, then a third. The ruckus was bringing everyone out of their apartments, and I could see Zoe’s face turning bright red.
“Jesus Christ, Chad,” she hissed, grabbing me and pulling me inside. “Thanks, Hank, I’ll handle this.”
“Are you sure?” Hank asked.
She pushed me inside, a little too roughly.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said and closed the door.
* * *
“Are you fucking insane?” Zoe yelled. “Do you have any idea what you just did? I’m going to be the gossip of the entire building thanks to you!”
“I thought they already talked about you everywhere?” I said, trying and failing at being cute.
Zoe huffed and threw her hands up in the air. “You are fucking unbelievable,” she said, walking away.
I was taken aback, a little surprised at her outburst, wondering if her anger had more to do with her embarrassment than with what I had done at the restaurant. This was a side to Zoe I had never seen before. Strong. Forceful. Powerful. Controlling. I kind of… liked it.
I followed her into the living room and she turned around quickly, pointing a finger at me. “Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me tonight? I live in this city, Chad! You are going to be on a fucking plane out in a few days, and I have to endure the dirty looks an
d the fucking gossip columns! I probably won’t ever be allowed into Vittorio’s again!”
“Yeah, the maître d’ was kinda pissed,” I said with a smile. “The spaghetti was a little overcooked anyway, so…”
“Will you fucking stop kidding around!” she screamed, throwing a punch at my chest that probably hurt her more than it did me. “You’re an asshole, Chad! A fucking asshole!”
“You know, you’ve used the word ‘fuck’ more in the past minute than I ever heard you use it in our entire time together,” I said.
She swirled around, angry, and yelled in my face, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She punched me again. “Fuck you, Chad Walters! Fuck you for coming back into my life! Fuck you for making me think you were any different than you were before! Fuck you for making me think that I could have a nice night with you! Fuck you very much!”
“Could you fucking calm down?” I said, my voice rising. “I actually wanted to have a nice dinner. It’s not my fault that jackass ruined it for us.”
“No!” she shot back. “You ruined it! That jackass was going to leave us alone eventually. You had to act like some fucking perverted version of Chuck Norris and break his fucking nose!”
“He deserved it,” I shouted back. “And I’m more like Jason Statham.”
“I know he deserved it!” she yelled. “But I didn’t! I didn’t deserve that kind of embarrassment! Damn it, Chad, I’m tired, exhausted, sick of all the shit that’s been happening to me, and just wanted a nice night out. I didn’t fucking deserve this!”
She turned around and walked in small circles around the living room, her head in her hands, her breathing heavy. She looked like she was going to have a panic attack. I reached for her, but she pulled away.
“Please, don’t touch me,” she said. “Just get out.”
“Zoe –”
“Get out!”
I didn’t move. I met her gaze and stood my ground. She frowned at me and shook her head, as if confused as to why I wouldn’t just do what she said.