His life had been a series of short term rtionships ever since the tragedy. He couldn’t seem to find someone who can stick for more than a few months at a time, a year at best. He’s had his share of beautiful faces, sexy bodies, young and older, famous and not, he’d lost count on how many women he’d been with. He wasrgely driven by his sex drive which lead him into rtionships based on casual sex. Women swooned over him, and he caved to the temptation.


    He had enough experience to learn that sex and good looks were not enough to keep a rtionship, most of them couldn’t even bring him to fall in love like the hopelessly romantic that he was. He knew that his passion for his work and motorbikes sometimes drove women away, and his simple way of life drove almost all of them away because they expected something rather posh from one of the highest earning actors in the industry.


    He wasn’t entirely truthful when he said he was going to try and do his own bandages. He felt warm and fuzzy inside when she touched his hand, when she slowly rubbed it with care and tenderness. He enjoyed it so much, he didn’t want their routine to change.


    Sandy was the type of woman that when he looked at her, the more beauty he can find in her. The more he got to know her, the more interesting she was. The most addictive kind of all.


    He loved the fact that she didn’t wear make-up. Most men loved the way women looked after the magical touch of  make-up, John preferred them in and real, it’s their personalities that shone through and made them beautiful. He admired the fact that she presented herself as she is, and let people love her for who she is and not who she pretended to be. He adored the way sheughed after telling him the bitter part of her past because she had ovee it. She reminded him of himself.


    He admitted that Sandy looked different when she wore make-up. He was surprised to see her wearing them, and dressed up for a special asion. He had just arrived on his motorbike after a stroll around the neighborhood, his hand was feeling better. She was standing in front of thepound, dialing her phone when she was startled by his arrival. He stared at her in amusement.


    “You look nice,” heplimented her.


    “Oh, thanks … I’m actually going to a birthday party, … so you’re back on the saddle? Do you still need  me to change the bandages?”


    “Oh, no, I guess not … maybe I’ll take it offter and see how it goes, … are you waiting for someone to pick you up?” he was curious.


    “No, actually, I’m calling the cab,” she waved her phone.


    “I can take you there, I’ve been trying to find an excuse to go around with my bike the entire week,” he chuckled.


    She was reluctant to ept the offer.


    “Where’s the party? Are all your friendsing too?”


    She hesitated, “It’s more like a dinner party … my friend, he’s celebrating his 40th birthday party at his restaurant, La Lune, it’s a fancy ce … hence the dressing up,” sheughed awkwardly.


    “Cool … just point the way, hop on … I’ll take you there, Andrea’s not picking you up?” he wondered.


    “No, she’s still in Manta, anyways, it’s more like a dinner for two, he set up a special dinner for the big 4 0.”


    John had a confused expression on his face, “Oh … so it’s a date?”


    “No … no … it’s not, he’s my friend … we’ve been good friends for years,” she wasn’t really sure about it either.


    John mounted his bike, and helped Sandy hop on the back. “It sure sounds like a date to me,” he  was being cheeky.


    “No, it’s not a date, just a dinner with a good friend,” she denied it.


    “If you say so,” he put on his helmet.


    He smelled her perfume as she cling to him all the way to La Lune. She tried to cover her exposed legs with her flowing dress, he noticed how nervous she was without saying a single word. Sometimes he nced at her from the rear view mirror when she wasn’t looking.


    He folded his arms in front of him while he stared at her fixing her skirt and hair when they arrived at La Lune. There was an ill feeling inside him knowing that she was going to step into the restaurant and have dinner with a man. Was it too soon to be annoyed by another man?


    He looked at La Lune, a typical fine dining bistro with a bar, the setting and the ambience was simr to the high end restaurants that he sometimes went to back home, but the only thing he wanted to see at that time was the man whom she was going to have dinner with. “Not a date” he quivered at the thought.


    She smiled nervously when she was done, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll see youter … or maybe tomorrow.”


    “You’re noting back tonight?” it was worse than he thought.


    “No … I mean … you might be asleep when I get back, so …” she exined.


    “Right,” he smiled embarrassed. “Have a nice dinner date,” he said.


    “It’s not a date,” she whispered.Content (C) N?v/elDra/ma.Org.


    He raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face, he saw her off entering the bistro and then went on his way. He didn’t know where he was going, he could’ve just stroll around like he always does with his bike. But on that particr night, he felt like he was in need of a direction. He was troubled by the uneasiness he felt, it was annoying that he felt the way he did. He barely even knew her, but it bothered him to see her out on a date looking so nice. There was an itch he had to scratch, and it’s gotten itchier the further he went along the road.


    “Fuck it!” he muttered, he turned his bike around and went straight back to La Lune.