Chapter 112

***Kenya.***

***February, A few months earlier***

I woke up this morning and had a terrible dream that a monster, the face so frightening came for me. He was a handsome angel at first. Seductive. Then his true face showed and I needed redemption. That was the moment another monster came. This one didn't hide his nature. He saved me from the first monster.

Walking to Byron's I couldn't dispel the unease the dream had caused. I even phoned mum and she asked me to pray about it. I did. And I am sure God would handle it. I reached the studio and immediately jumped into rehearsals.

We were practicing for a show next week and I needed to bring my full concentration, so that I'd be selected for the show in May.

Andrea spared me a look as she danced and I pulled a tongue for her. We became close since I joined the company. Actually we both joined the company at the same time. Both best students at our institutions.

After practice, we went to Bloom Café. I was tired, hungry and watched Andrea and Mike as they kissed. Rory was beside me, his knees innocuously against mine. He was handsome and very lean. All the girls vied for his attention at work. But I only saw a great guy, with his great blonde locks. He was equally a great dancer, with very tight buns.

"Hi."

Everyone on our table turned to the sound of the voice. A tall man stood before us. Wearing a green hoodie and blue denims that gave him a bad boy look, he was easy on the eyes. His eyes, black orbs, fell on me, lingering.

Flustered, I averted my gaze.

"Can I talk to you?" He spoke. Rory nudged my elbow and I was shocked to see he was referring to me. I swallowed. *He wanted to talk to me?*

*Of course he did. I was human.*

I followed him, puzzled.

We walked to an empty table, taking seats. He asked what I wanted and I just decided to go for coffee.

While we waited for our orders, he spoke.

"My name is Hank Hera. I've been watching you anytime I and my buddies come this way," he said. I looked at him, smiling.

"Something funny?" He asked.

"Your name has a ring to it. Hank Hera." I smiled again. I was trying to ease my tension. When I looked back at him, he had a frown on his face. I didn't understand it. Perhaps he didn't like jokes.

"I was joking," I said. He raised a cocky brow. And I knew he didn't take jokes.

Our coffee arrived and I saw a worried look from my friends. I waved them off with a nod and they calmed down.

"Your friends are worried," he said. I looked at his fair face, his freckles. Cute freckles on his nose. I liked them.

Seeing that he was waiting for my answer, I nodded. I got distracted.

So, here I was with a very handsome stranger, who barely knew how to smile. Looking at me like I was this dessert that could fill his belly. I couldn't even keep my wits together anymore.

"I like you. I want to ask you out."

*Wow*.

I stared at him. I think for a few seconds I couldn't find my voice. He gave me a look, which I recognized all too well. *The one that said you should thank me now; I just asked you out.*

I inhaled a steady breath. "As much as I would have loved to say yes to you, I can't."

He gave me a questioning look. "Boyfriend or something?"

I didn't. Never have. "No. In case you haven't noticed; I have a limp. A bad hip. So I don't think we suit."

Andy said my self-deprecation was modest sometimes; other times it was damn right infuriating.

"All I see is a beautiful girl that I want to take out." He held my gaze.

Thirteen words that just weakened me.

If I wasn't so reserved, I would have said,

'*Wow, take me out any day.*'

But I was really a reserved girl. Still a virgin at my age. I watched porn, saw the things that happened between men and women. Craved it, actually, anytime I touched my skin. Anytime I bathed. I didn't know how to touch myself. I was preserving my entire self for my future husband.

"So, what do you say, beautiful?" He asked. I melted. Shy this time. He called me beautiful. "I work at a five-star restaurant. A sous chef. I can get us reservations. Just say when and we do this."

Hmm. Impressive. A chef. "What restaurant?" I asked.

Aiming for erasing the pleasure of having him interested in me.

"La Chère. Have you been there before?" He asked. I shook my head. I wasn't an outdoor person. Rarely hung out. Apart from lunch with my friends.

"I've passed it a few times, but I've never been there," I said.

He nodded smugly. It was like he found that a pointer for himself.

"So do you accept to go out on a date with me?" He repeated his question.

I watched him and suddenly entertained the idea of going out on a date with him. I didn't mind having this handsome hunk by my side, walking down the streets. Hand in hand.

I even nursed the idea of having him as my boyfriend, if things progressed. I was getting ahead of myself here. I needed to contain my excitement.

My gaze fell on his firm lips. A set of nude toned lips.

"I'd love that." I informed him. He nodded ecstatically and I would have shared in his joy. But there was only one flaw.

"How come you haven't asked me my name, and you wish to go out with me?"

He stared at me, stunned. Realization hitting him.

I already regretted saying yes, even before the first date.