Dylan Maxwell was a certifiable ladies man. He didn’t have to exert much effort, to draw them to him. Even his competitors couldn’t help being impressed by the ease with which Dylan pulled the most aloof beauties. Reverentially, they would ask, “what’s your secret man?”
Despite the fact that women loved him and men admired him, Dylan wasn’t really a people person. He didn’t hate them. Then again, he didn’t particularly like them either, finding the majority of them untrustworthy. Women were always bleating about their feelings. Men liked to tell themselves that they were different, all while grinding on about being disrespected.
Once the newness wore off of any relationship, Dylan was ready to move on. By then, people were no longer on their best behavior. Attractive people always turned to be selfish. Unattractive people were usually insecure and suffocatingly needy. Listening to their first world problems got old fast. Dylan liked a challenge, but found that people were generally pretty predictable. Getting over on them was like picking low hanging fruit.
Then Rosa came strutting into his life, with her waist length glossy black mane which flowed over her shoulder and partially curtained her gorgeous face. She was curvy in all the right places, but it was intensity of her gaze that most attracted him. Dylan was intrigued. Was there more to Rosa than met the eye? He intended to find out. Nevertheless, fully expecting her to be nothing more than another pretty little thing he would quickly tire of playing with and discard for a new toy.
Unlike most women, who succumbed to his charms, Rosa was polite but seemingly disinterested. The friendlier he was, the more distant she became. Sensing a challenge, Dylan put more effort into his game and Rosa still didn’t rise to the bait. His amusement graduated to frustration, which eventually simmered over into anger.
He was offended by Rosa’s low-key rejection. Playing a little hard to get was all part of the game. However, she was taking things too far. Where did she get off making him work so hard, then still not giving him any play? No longer able to maintain his façade of indifference, Dylan angrily confronted her. Rosa acted as though she had no idea what he was talking about, which made him even saltier.
When she smirked, he realized with a jolt that she had just scored. Rosa played him like a ten cent flute, having successfully gotten under his skin. For the first time, someone had gotten over on him. That excited Dylan. She was nothing like other women. Rosa didn’t even feel the need to talk about her feelings, which Dylan found pleasant. The only drawback was that he never really knew what was on her mind.
Rosa was laid back and slow to anger. Once ignited, her ire exploded like a flash fire. It always happened so fast, that whenever she attacked Dylan, it always caught him off guard. One minute, she would be calm. Then the next thing he knew, she was trying to stab him with whatever was at hand: scissors, a letter opener, a paring knife, etc. After one of their Saturday night drunken arguments outside of a nightclub, Rosa ran at him brandishing the stilletto heel of her shoe.
Alarmed by the abuse, Dylan’s grandmother urged him to end the relationship. He just laughed and dismissed her concerns. He was having way too much fun to end things with Rosa. Especially since their stormy relationship made for equally intense lovemaking. Dylan never knew what to expect and that was thrilling. There was never a dull moment, with Rosa around.