Chapter 190 ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY

Chapter 190 ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY


“A new look, a new me,” she announced to no one but herself as she stood before the mirror with a straightener in her hand. 

She couldn't believe it. She was really going on a date with a guy named Derek. It was weird going out with a normal guy, but sometimes normal guys could be nice. Right?

When she was done straightening her hair, she applied a little make-up before settling for a black skimpy dress that went really well with black fishnet tights.

She ran a red lip gloss over her lips, raised her hand to her hair, smoothening her new bangs.

Approaching the mirror, she stopped, looking down at herself.

“Maybe, this is too short for a first date,” she muttered, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I should probably—”

A knock came at the door.

There was no time to make any last minute decisions since Derek was here, so she grabbed a mini red purse, heading for the door.

Taking a deep breath twice, she opened the door to meet a smiling Derek who held flowers in his hand.

“You look…” His eyes trailed from her hair down to the tights. It made her feel uncomfortable, and then there was the urge to pull the gown down. “You look amazing… extremely pretty.”

She offered him a smile, even though she was feeling rather awkward. “Thank you. You don't look bad yourself.” 

He had a green shirt over black pants and a comfortable sneakers to match.

He was everything that screamed a typical normal guy.

“Here,” he said, offering her the flowers. “These are for you. I do hope you like them.”

She let out a genuine smile. They really smelt nice. “It's really nice.”

Derek smiled back, offering his hand to her and she slid hers in his.

There it was again—discomfort.

But she let herself ignore the feeling while she followed him to the ride he booked.

When she slid into the passenger seat, she looked towards the window.

It was really going to be a long date.

⚜~⚜~⚜~⚜

The music was so loud that she could feel every single beat, and every single instrument that they played. It wasn't a bad place at all. 

She actually did like the music quite a lot.

“Do you like the music?” Derek asked as if he read her thoughts, lowering his lips close to her ear.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I really do,” she shouted.

The place was buzzing with people who were jumping and screaming once a new song played. Derek managed to point out which of them on the stage was his friend.

“You really look good,” Derek shouted, his eyes on her exposed cleavage.

“Thank you.” That has been her usual response to all the times he complimented her outfit. She knew she looked amazing. Maybe amazing was way too demeaning. The word was—sexy as hell.

And it was totally intentional, because she was hoping something else could come out from the date tonight… something that would make her forget all about him.

She needed a distraction and Derek was that distraction. Regardless of the fact that she felt the need to slap his eyes off from looking at her lustfully, she held herself because this was what she wanted.

Those were words she has been chanting to herself since she agreed to the date with Derek.

“Can I… can I kiss you?” Derek asked, his stare shifting from her face to her tits.

He was asking for permission?

It took her a little time to process that. Particularly because she was used to Alessandro just taking what he wants, and honestly, she liked a domineering man. She liked him being dominant so much that when he begs, she thought it made him look even sexier.

But hearing Derek ask for permission did nothing to her. Instead, it made the butterflies fly away.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He gave her a victorious smile and leaned closer, his lips were a few inches from hers.

You can do this Isabelle. You can do this.

It's just a kiss, isn't it?

And just when Derek’s lips were close to touching hers, she freaked out, placing a hand over his chest.

“Stop please,” she told him, her head spinning, her voice cracking like she wanted to cry. She didn't want this.

She never would.

Because the truth was—she hasn't and would never really get over Alessandro. 

“Isabelle?” He frowned at her. “Are you okay… Did I… I'm so sorry… I should have gone slow… taken things slow,” he babbled, looking so confused as she felt. 

Only if he knew he wasn't the problem.

“I'm… I'm so sorry, Derek. I can't… I can't really do it, not right now.” She shook her head, taking a step back.

“I'm sorry, Isa. I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me. Maybe I should go get us a drink,” he suggested.

“Yes,” she said almost immediately. “Yes please, I'm thirsty.”

He nodded, a flash of confusion on his face. “I'll be right back.”

“Okay.”

She held the tears in as she watched him walk away, aking steps back away from the crowd and leaning towards a wall.

If she couldn't handle a single kiss with Derek, then how was she supposed to forget about Alessandro?

How would she be able to date Derek?

“I'm pathetic,” she mumbled to herself, a tear sliding down her cheeks.

She tried to wipe it off but a strong, firm hand from behind beat her to it, wiping the tear off her face.

Panic surged inside her, and she lifted her hand to slap the hand away but the hand slid behind her, grabbing her by the waist and hauling her towards a well built muscular body. As soon as her breasts clashed against the unknown man's chest, a fiery masculine scent that she was way too familiar with swirled around her.

Alessandro.

She looked up, her eyes meeting those chocolate coloured eyes that she hasn't seen in months. She gripped his shirt to stop herself from falling.

Warm breath fans across her cheek as he lowered his mouth to her ear, 

“Why are you crying, baby girl?” 

Heat pooled in her core at the sight of him. At the feel of him. At the sound of him. There was a little edge to his voice, and for some reason, she could tell he was angry but he tried to keep it cool.

Did he perhaps see that?

Did he see how much of an idiot she was? A coward she was?

“I'm… I…”

“Did he touch you?” he asked, and this time around she felt the possessive side of him.

She gave her head a little shake. “No,” she answered, trying to take a step back but he held her closer.

“You've been a very bad girl, Isabelle.”

“You don't… you don't get to say that to me anymore. Please, go away. I'm on a date,” she answered angrily, and she had no idea why she was angry with him.

“No.”

“No?” She shivered, when he gave her an all round look, then stopped his gaze on the little flesh of her breasts that escaped from the dress. 

“You've pushed me away long enough, and I can't sit and pretend I'm fine with it. I love you, and I'm going to spend all my days showing you or die trying.”

“You left me in the hospital as soon as I woke up,” she fired, trying to address a totally different issue.

“Tesoro, you said you didn't want to have anything to do with me. You asked for a divorce. I couldn't watch you look at me with hatred in your eyes, because I know I failed you. I failed to protect you.”

“You didn't… you didn't fail me,” she told him.

“I did, otherwise you wouldn't be here on a date with your boyfriend,” he spat out.

“He's not my boyfriend.”

“Huh? Didn’t hear you.”

“I said he's not my boy—”

Then, his lips sealed over hers.