The Dating Game by Princess F.L. Gooden

Author:Princess F.L. Gooden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brown Girls Publishing

The What If? Game

By Gina Torres

One look and a half of a smile was all it took to make the hackles on my oblivious, never-jealous boyfriend to rise. For a split second I heard that sexy opening guitar riff and Bill Withers singing “Who is he and what is he to you?”

Until this moment, I had never crossed paths with any men associated with my past. But when Jason and I walked into the club, the first person I saw was Marcus - all six feet two inches of milk chocolate, square jawed, chiseled featured feast for the eyes.

He saw me, too and I semi-smirked. I am not sure how Jason, who was ahead of me, saw any of this. Frankly I didn’t see the big deal.

True, I had once been interested in Marcus. We used to work together. We had even shared a poorly executed kiss, blech, blech, blech. Why do we assume attractive people are skilled in intimate endeavors? He was the second most gorgeous dude I encountered that was a horrible kisser. DEAL BREAKER!

After the very brief look that passed between me and Marcus, Jason turned around and began interrogating me.

“Who was that? Why are you smiling?”

I started laughing at that one. Then the man that I loved, and with whom I wanted nothing more than to spend time with, utterly and completely lost it. Without waiting for an answer, he snatched my wrist and dragged me out of the club with a vice-like grip. He’d became a bonafide Neanderthal with “you my woman” behavior.

I was stunned into absolute silence as I passively allowed him to drag me outside. Shock morphed into perverse delight at the fact that something so innocent would get this reaction. I was high on the control, but I feigned anger and disgust once we were outside.

“Let go of me,” I growled. I twisted my arm trying to break free.

He came to his senses releasing his grip and dropping his arm. “Go back in then,” he said, walking toward the car. Until that moment I believed he was truly aloof. This incident allowed me a glimpse into his insecurities. I was hit on often, many times by his friends. He never really reacted in front of me, which got on my nerves. He usually addressed it privately. I assumed it was because he knew he had nothing to worry about. But something about this exchange caused him worry.

He didn’t need to worry. But I loved every ratchet second! I didn’t do much to make him feel better. I didn’t want him to feel better. I wanted to bask in his concern, fear, and territorialism. I wanted revenge for when he didn’t rescue me from unwanted attention. That was my agenda, but he switched modes on me. He met my faux anger with faux indifference. I wanted to fight with indignant “How dare yous” and “What do you mean, I smiled? So what, I smile at folks I know!”

He wanted to distance himself from the dramatic outburst.

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