6. The right guy
“Hi Aims!” funny how my brothers voice could calm me down right away.
“Hi!” I said cheerfully, “how’s Belgium?”
“What do you think? Rain, of course!” I heard the sigh in his voice and smiled. Oliver hated rain. He preferred mountains of snow and icy cold wind over rain.
“Well, the weather here is awesome!” I teased him.
“I hate you!”
“You love me!”
“Whatever,” he muttered, but I could hear the smile in his voice, “how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I answered. I really tried to sound cheerful, but if there was one person on this planet that I couldn’t fool, it was Oliver.
“So, Justin’s a dick?” he responded immediately, which made me laugh again. I nodded and told him was had happened. The more I thought about it, the worse it made me feel. My favorite dress, my Frappuccino, his big ego and little compassion. He was a bastard, and not a small one, for that matter.
“So, yeah,” I ended, “Justin’s a dick.”
“Is it too late to say ‘I told you so’?”
“I know!” I sighed, “I wished I could go on tour with Ariana. Or Usher! That would be so cool!”
“Well, I guess you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Just concentrate on the fans and don’t let him get to you.”
“I will,” I smiled, as the waiter put my plate in front of me, “I have to go. Say hi to mam!”
“And Aims? I do love you!”
“I know you do,” I grinned. “I’ll call you soon!”
I threw my phone in my bag and smiled at the waiter.
“Your boyfriend is a jerk, you know that?” the waiter pointed over his shoulder at the table, which made me choke on my wine and burst out laughing.
“My boyfriend? Forget it!”
“In that case,” he murmured, “I’ll be free in an hour. Let’s have a drink?”
I pursed my lips, glanced at Charlotte and nodded. Dumbest move in my life. A couple of hours later, I was sitting in a boring pub with no music, a lukewarm pint in front of me and a woman hater talking only street language, expecting to stay with me tonight, at my side.
“So, Chiemi, let’s cane another one. Or are we going somewhere else?”
I stared at him and shook my head. “I have to go, they’re expecting me back at the hotel.”
“I’ll walk you,” the gleam in his eyes said enough.
“Please, don’t,” I got up from my chair and pursed my lips, “I’ll find my own way.”
“Come on, Chiemi,” he got up and reached for my arm, “it’s no trouble for me. Besides, I would like a little taste of you too.”
“I don’t think so, pal,” I wiped his hand away from me and threw some money on the table, “that’s the last thing I would want from you.”
“Oh, so you’re going back to that jerk now?”
“Justin might be a dick, but at least he knows how to pronounce his words correctly,” I rolled my eyes and waved, “thank you for this waste of time. I hope I never see you again.”
“I don’t think so, biatch,” his hand closed tightly around my wrist and he pulled me to him. His grip tightened and the pain shot through me. I looked around me. The bar was almost empty, which was fine by me.
“Listen up, mister,” I said, “I choose to be kind because it makes me happy. But I will defend my boundaries without hesitation. So either you let go off me right now or I’ll show you how we handle a situation like this in Belgium.”
He laughed and in that moment his grip on my wrist loosened a bit. I pulled my hand free, after which I turned around and hit his nose hard with my palm. With my flat hand I gave him a slap against the side of his neck. Blood flowed from his nose as he stumbled backwards. I hooked my leg behind his knee and with a hard blow he ended up on the floor of the pub.
“Listen carefully, mister,” I grabbed his ear and forced him to look at me, “if you ever come across me again, turn around and run the other way. Because I swear to you, if you ever come near me again, I’ll make sure your handsome head isn’t that handsome anymore. Understood?”
He nodded briefly and I let go of his ear. I waved at the bartender, who was staring at me in shock and turned to leave.
When I finally reached the entrance of the hotel, I found Justin laying in one of the seats in the lobby, his feet up and moving on the beat off a song.
“Finally,” he said, as he noticed me, “I’ve been waiting for hours.”
I brushed his feet of the bunk and plopped down beside him. “Believe me, your hours couldn’t have been half as boring as mine.”
“Not a good first date?”
“God, he didn’t talk about anything but his ex-wife, who appears to be a pyromanic psychopath, and his kid, who’s in juvenile prison for murder.”
“You sure know how to pick the right guys,” he laughed, which made me grin. I guess he was right. I never picked the right ones.
“Why are you still here?” I asked, after a moment of silence.
“Charlotte and Scooter made me,” he rolled his eyes, “they said it was my fault you went away with that guy and if anything were to happen to you, they would pin it on me.”
“Poor kid,” I said sarcastically, “you kind of are to blame, though.”
“Maybe your life is just boring,” he shrugged with a grin, “I’m kidding, forget that, or Scooter’s going to kill me.”
“I wonder why that is,” I muttered, “So, is there any nice place around here where I can go out?”
Justin tried to suppress it, but in the end an adventurous grin appeared on his lips. It was a smile that no doubt, made a lot of heart beat a little faster, but Justin wasn’t boyfriend-material. Unconciously, I compared his smile to Lucas' smile, and honestly, Justin didn't even come close.
“I know a few addresses,” his eyes twinkled mischievously. A smile graced my lips as I leaned closer to him.
“Would you like to explore L.A. with me tonight?”
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