Cool it, Ares, don’t be a fucking dumbass.

That’s what I try to tell myself, but it’s already too fucking late. My shoes are already slapping the concrete under me, my legs carrying me toward the restaurant area.

You see, I was just by the bar having a drink and enjoying myself when I noticed Daphne and some fucking asshole sitting together and drinking wine. Now, you’re probably thinking that I got a bug on her or some fucking bullshit like that… No, I’m not fucking spying on her; I’m not a fucking sicko like that. I just knew she likes to hang out in this place and it just so happened that I needed a drink and… Oh, fuck it; it’s true, I came here because I thought I might run into her.

Fucking sue me.

“Sir, do you have a reservation?” some fucking bald guy asks me, a folder in his hands, but I just ignore him and stroll into the cordoned area, walking between rows of square tables and making my way toward Daphne and her date. Yeah, her fucking date—that guy can’t be older than thirty, and he has the looks of a football player. This isn’t a business meeting, that's for fucking sure.

“What the fuck, Daphne? How many guys are you fucking?” I ask her right off the bat, standing up in front of her table. Yeah, I’m not exactly the most subtle guy. So fucking what? She turns in her chair to face me, and her date just opens his mouth and lets his jaw hang. Yeah, I know how to cause an impression.

“I’m sorry?” She offers me a surprised smile, one eyebrow cocked as she locks eyes with me. “I don’t remember marrying you, Ares. And who the fuck are you to ask me that? How many girls are you fucking?”

Well fuck, I wasn’t expecting that. But that’s because I’m a fucking dumbass. She’s Daphne Kane, not some easy girl ready to crawl at my feet. The worst part is that I don’t even know how to fucking answer her last question. Well, I do know how to answer it … it’s just that the answer is a fucking ridiculous one.

“None,” I respond, lowering my voice until it becomes just a whisper. “Not after what happened between the two of us. After that, I … I can’t.”

“Guys, I’m right here…” Her date starts, and I turn to him and narrow my eyes. I think I recognize him from somewhere… Maybe he’s one of these big shot quarterbacks? Yeah, I think I saw him on TV before.

“Zip it,” I tell him abruptly, and then turn my attention toward Daphne.

“Ares, you can’t barge in and—what the hell?” she trails off, looking over my shoulder and sighing heavily. I turn on my heels to see what she’s looking at, and guess what? Lucas is walking straight toward us. What the…?

“What the hell are you thinking, Ares?” he hisses, and his tone is not a happy one. What the…? Is he pissed that I came in here looking for Daphne? That’s fucking rich, since he’s here as well. “I know you’ve been spying on me, and I know that you found out about Daphne and I. But that doesn’t give you the right to --”

“Gimme a fucking break, Lucas. What happened between you and her? Yeah, sorry to disappoint you, but she won’t look at you again after what happened between me and --”

“Shut up, the two of you! How the hell are you even here? Are you spying on me?” I look at Daphne, but her last question makes me turn my gaze toward Lucas. Yeah, I guess we really fucked up by coming in here, no need to tell me that. “I knew you guys spy on each other, but this is too much. What do you think I am? Real estate?”

“I’m not --”

“Daphne, I --”

Lucas and I start talking at the same time, and then we look at each other again. I can already feel my blood boiling, and I don’t mean that in a good way.

“Lucas, shut the fuck up,” I hiss, mashing my teeth together hard.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” he shoots back at me, balling his hands into fists and rocking on his feet, his body swaying back and forth as if he’s about to take a swing at me.

“Why don’t you fucking make me, asshole?”

“Ask and you shall receive,” he says, raising his voice. Heads start turning toward us and I can feel a kind of heavy silence taking over the dining room. Yeah, we’re the life of the party, everyone.

“Screw this, I’m gonna go,” Daphne’s date says out of the blue, throwing his napkin on top of the table and going up to his feet. He glances at Daphne for a moment, almost begging her to ask him to stay, but she just looks at him with a resigned look and sighs. Shaking his head, he walks out of the restaurant with his shoulders hunched. I guess that, in the end, it doesn’t matter how big of a fucking star you are—you’re just no match for two guys like Lucas and I.

“Thanks for ruining my date,” she sighs heavily, looking from me to Lucas.

“What? That was Ares!” Lucas starts, glancing at me with a hateful expression.

“Me? That’s fucking high and mighty of you, Lucas. You’re the one chasing me all the way here so that you could keep tabs on Daphne and I … What are you, some kind of fucking pervert? Do you get off on watching us together?”

Maybe I’ve overdone it now, but what the fuck. It’s not my fault that he’s a sore loser. Thing is, Lucas is a sore loser with a heavy right hook.

Swinging his arm, he brings his fist up and drives it straight into my chin. I take one step back, but it’s already too late; his fist connects with my face and I stumble backward, falling over a table where an astonished couple was having dinner.

“Motherfucker,” I whisper to myself, going up to my feet and wiping the blood off my mouth with the back of my hand. Gritting my teeth, I turn my right hand into a fist and take two steps forward; moving fast, I punch him twice in the face. He takes two steps backward and then comes straight at me, bending over at the last second and bringing his shoulder up to meet my stomach.

We both go crashing down over another table, and I feel it breaking under my back. I’m about to head butt him when two pairs of strong arms lift him off me, and I sit up on the floor and watch as two tall security guys start dragging him across the restaurant floor. I grin as I watch him go, but it’s a short lived grin; two other security guys flank me in the blink of an eye and, grabbing me by the arms, they pull me up to my feet and start dragging my ass out of the fucking restaurant.

Perfect, just like two teenagers getting into a fight at the prom.

Still spitting blood, I let myself be taken out of the restaurant by the not-so-gentle hands of the security staff. Lucas is already there, drops of blood staining the collar of his shirt, and he glares at me as he sees me coming out of the restaurant.

Luckily, Daphne follows me all the way to exit. Stopping right between Lucas and I, her hands on her hips and a furious expression on her face, she looks from me to him.

“You’re both insane,” she starts, and I almost think that she’s going to scold us as if we were two high-school kids caught shoplifting. Instead, she just shakes her head and sighs. “This has gone too far. Tomorrow, both of you … in my office.”

Turning around, she starts walking to her limo, the car already waiting for her on the curb. She stops right before she enters it, the driver holding the door for her, and then she glances toward Lucas and I.

“Be there, or forget that I exist.”