“Brake!” I screamed. “Jesus-fuck AJ, BRAKE!”

My life flashed before my eyes, or at least I thought it did. The words and a massive adrenaline spike burst at the same time.

“Fuuck!”

Just my luck. I’m gonna die before I have the chance to make it to the NFL Draft picks.

A behemoth of a semi-truck just swerved inches from the front of our car, cutting us off, barely missing the left front bumper. AJ yanked the wheel and the car jerked to the right. Without thinking, I threw my hands out against the dashboard to brace myself, but the seatbelt cut into my shoulder and stopped me. I was left flapping my arms in front of me like two spaghetti noodles. I looked like an idiot, but at least I had good reflexes.

Then there was a loud pop, the kind of sound that makes your heart leap into your throat.

“Fuck!” AJ repeated my sentiments, followed by a litany of foul language as he wrestled the wheel to straighten the car. “Dumb, motherfucker, goddamn, son of a bitch!”

I held on as the car swerved, zigzagging down the road, until AJ managed to muscle it to the side. Our small compact came to a crunching stop when the tires hit loose gravel on the shoulder of the interstate we’d been driving on for the past several hours.

My friend took a break from his expletives long enough to say, “My fucking tire just blew!”

Why am I not surprised? He’d been driving like a bat out of hell ever since we left campus. You’d think we were on some kind of road race, instead of heading to Vegas for spring break. The old car, and the tires, probably baked dry as a raisin, couldn’t handle the hot pavement. No wonder it blew.

Ever since I’d submitted my declaration for the draft list for the NFL, I figured I was on my way to realizing my big dream. I couldn’t afford to have anything, or anyone, jeopardize it now. Maybe spring break in Vegas wasn’t such a good idea after all.

I turned to AJ, my body still wired on adrenaline and said, “What the fuck, man? You tryin’ to kill me?”

“Mother fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck!” AJ punctuated the last three words, pounding a fist on the steering wheel.

As usual, he was overreacting. It was just a flat tire. No biggy.

I shot him a sidelong glance. “What the hell, man? Do you have Tourette’s?”

“Fuck, yeah!” He blew out a breath, trying to shake off the frustration, and ran a hand through his hair. “Traffic induced Tourette’s.”

“You’re an asshole.” I grinned. Now that I wasn’t dying and we were both actually okay, I found my friend’s tantrum rather comical for being such a burly football player. “Man up,” I said. “Don’t be such a pussy.”

“Right back at ya, bro.”

AJ clicked off his seatbelt and jumped out of the car to go check the tire.

I did the same and kicked open the passenger door. An unwelcome blast of hot desert air nearly hit me back in the face when I stepped out to join AJ. He was standing at the front right corner of the car, hands on his hips, staring at the tire and shaking his head.

“Well, you’re crappy, piece of shit car has done it again,” I said, walking up to join him. “Get many chicks with this ghetto ride?”

AJ squinted up into the desert sun as if hoping by some miracle a little good fortune would fall out of the sky, but as I looked around, I knew that wasn’t gonna happen, not with our luck.

“Well, it’s better than your car,” he said. He tilted his head and slung his remark with a playful glare. “Oh, wait, that’s right. You don’t have one.”

“Hey, I got crazy-hot chicks in high school and I drove a Moped back then.”

“You’ve really moved up in the world. Your agent should have comped you a car like others do for their NFL prospects. What’s up with that? If it weren’t for my car, we wouldn’t be going anywhere on spring break. We’d be sitting in the training room, sweating out about a thousand sit ups while everyone else got blowjobs and free college-age pussy from bikini girls on the beach.”

“Fuck you very much.” I raised a teasing eyebrow.

AJ was my roommate, my best bud, and we always gave each other an endless hard time, but it was all done with friendship and affection.

Aw, geez.

Did I just say affection? I meant, the buddy kind of affection, of course.

I watched as he kicked the shredded tire with the toe of his low slung, skater shoe, pursing his lips. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, giving me a deadpan look.

“What…don’t give me that look,” I said. “This is not my fault. Why the hell doesn’t your dad give you a better car anyway?” I continued as I followed him around to the back of the car where he popped open the trunk. “We can’t attract chicks with a broken down car. We need something like a 5.0 Mustang, preferably in red, with a sweet leather interior. Your dad’s rich enough. Why the hell doesn’t he throw you a bone and get you a decent car?”

AJ handed me the crowbar then removed the jack and the spare tire. “Says he wants to teach me something. Morals and values, or some shit like that. Says, he’ll buy me a new car when I graduate college and join the family business.”

I dropped the crowbar on the ground where AJ crouched, and pulled out my cell phone, wondering if I’d even be able to get a signal out here. I glanced up the length of Interstate 40. “Hey, how far do you think the next exit is? I’ll find the nearest place to get a new tire. It can’t be far.”

AJ just grunted as he cranked the handle of the jack.

“Why couldn’t that fucker have waited to cut us off just a few more miles? I said. “There’s an exit right there.”

I looked down at AJ kneeling at the tire. The car was sufficiently jacked up and he was spinning the wrench to remove the lug nuts. “I don’t know. Here, make yourself useful,” he said, “hold these nuts.”

“Sorry, bro. I don’t hold nuts,” I said, holding out my hand anyway.

“You’re a dickhead.”

“Alright, I’ll hold them...gently, but I’m not going to fondle them.”

AJ placed the last bolt in my hand, shaking his head at my bad joke. I noticed a smile struggling to break out. Just the reaction I’d wanted in order to diffuse his frustration at our crappy luck.

My friend, AJ, was a good guy, but way too tense sometimes, and a little hyperactive. Qualities I’d noticed when we first met, freshman year in college. Now, in our junior year, we were first string on the Longhorns’ football team at The University of Texas, Austin. I played quarterback. AJ was a kicker and today, we were on our way to Vegas for spring break.

This would be my last escape for some fun-filled guy time with my buddy, before the NFL Draft picks came out. Back in January I signed a representation agreement with an agent, Saul Rasmussen, a neurotic, worry wart with a flop of hair that refused to stay in place. He was a rather easily excited, OCD type of guy, but a good agent. He walked me through the process of submitting my declaration letter and had been mentoring me ever since, a little too enthusiastically at times, checking up on me with a voracious amount of phone calls and texts. But who’d blame the guy. When the day came he’d get three percent of my signing bonus.

With any luck, and the talent I’d been honing since I was a kid, I’d get drafted to a professional team and quit college. Yeah, that’s right, I said quit. I wasn’t planning on finishing college. Not right now anyway. A diploma could wait. The NFL wouldn’t. I had to strike while the iron was hot. Get picked for a team at the peak of my skills, before anything like an injury could take me out of the game. I’d seen it happen to other players and I’d become consumed with the irrational idea that if I didn’t do this now, I may never have the chance, not even if I waited another year until graduation. I was at my best now and a year was a long time for an impatient guy like me. In my mind, it was like a gamble. A lot could happen in a year’s time that could ruin everything.

I watched my friend work, changing the tire as the sun burned down on us. Under my t-shirt, a trickle of sweat rolled down my back and all I could think about was how nice the casino air conditioning would feel when we stepped through the doors. They always kept those places like a freezer. And this time of year, they’d be filled with hot, college girls with luscious lips.

I shifted my weight to one foot and started clicking my cell phone off and on, a nervous habit I had when I was anxious. “Your bad driving put us behind schedule. Can’t you hurry up?”

“My bad driving? It was that asshole in the truck’s fault.”

I leaned over and looked at the tail of our car, nearly sticking out in traffic and said, “Well, you did a shitty job pulling off the road. Your ass is practically still in the slow lane.”

Just then, a black pickup truck, lifted and with monster tires, whooshed by swerving at the last second to avoid hitting our car. With a heavy hand on the horn, the driver blasted an angry warning, flipping us off making the universal “fuck-you” gesture as he passed.

“See I told you,” I said.

A more benevolent traveler came next, making a gentle, wide swerve as she veered away from our car and sailed past. “Your ass is in the road,” I repeated as if that’d do any good.

I moved to stand at the rear of the car and watched as the next car approached. I put on a big smile and waved to it, hoping they’d change lanes and give us a wide berth. The car swerved, just enough to clear our tail. Then just as the passenger window crossed my line of vision, a beautiful blonde lifted her t-shirt and pressed her voluptuous tits to the window, giving me a show.

Damn!

I smiled and waved at her as she passed.

“Oh my god, AJ. You should’ve seen it…ye-hee!” The girl was open-mouthed and laughing, along with what looked like a car full of college-aged girls.

AJ was still hunkered down at the right front wheel. “See what?” he called out without breaking his focus.

With a silly grin on my face, I trotted around the car to AJ. “Aw, man, you missed a good one. She flashed me! A hot girl just flashed her tits at me. It was awesome!”

AJ just shook his head and kept working.

“We’ve got to get going.” I prodded. “It’s freaking spring break in Vegas, man. There are tons of women, all drunk and...and...I can’t wait to get there. “

I leaned against the car, crossed my arms and looked off to the bleak horizon, dreaming. “It’s gonna be great. I’m gonna find a tall bombshell in a tiny, black dress, the kind with an ass you’d let sit on your face for hours.”

“Oh, Jesus. Keep your panties on, Dorothy. This won’t take much longer. This is just a minor setback. We’ll get there soon enough. And Vegas has a river of wet pussy just waiting to be tapped, so there’ll be plenty left for you by the time we get there.”

He leaned back from working on the tire, wiping his sweaty brow with a forearm. “I know what I’m gonna do the first thing we get there,” he said. “Get one of those big slushy drinks in a cowboy boot from Coyote Ugly and watch the girls dancing on the bar, butt pumping in those skimpy shorts.”

I drifted for a moment, envisioning what it would look like. “Mmm. Yeah…” I murmured.

“Hey, dickhead, did you find a place that sells tires yet?” AJ snapped. “It’s damn hot out here and I’m sweatin’ like a pig.”

“Pigs don’t sweat.” I tipped my head toward AJ. “They don’t have sweat glands. That’s why they wallow in the mud.”

“You’re givin’ me a fucking lecture on pig sweat? Smartass.” With an annoyed scowl, AJ stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Just find us a repair station already.”

I turned my attention back to my Google search on my smartphone.

“Come on, slow poke,” AJ prodded. He watched as I continued searching the web. “Can’t you find anything? Is that finger tapping the screen as small as your little pecker? You know, we can’t drive very far on this emergency spare. These tires are only meant to go about fifty miles or so.”

I shot him a nasty look, but it was just part of the back-and-forth male bravado guys our age engaged in. We had a kind of banter that sounded foul, but we both knew it was all in fun. Like most guys our age, we confirmed our manhood by flinging caustic jibes at each other.

“Okay, I found one. The good news is there’s a gas station, a full service station, at the next exit and it’s right…there.” I looked up from the screen and motioned in the direction with my arm. “It’s so damn close, we could practically walk to it.”

Finished, AJ released the jack and his old Honda creaked with a moan. He stepped close, looked over my shoulder at my phone and said, “We can make it to that gas station in no time.” He picked up the tire and rolled it to me. “Here, asshole. Make yourself useful. Put this in the trunk.”

I gave him my official, “Don’t tell me what to do” look and stowed the blown out tire. I jumped in the car and we were on our way.

Minutes later we pulled into the gas station and parked. near the bay of the repair garage.

“Shit. Look at that,” I said. “All the roll-up doors to the repair bays are shut. It’s closed. We came too late.” I checked my watch. “It’s after six o’clock.”

“Just our luck,” AJ said. He craned his neck, peering at the steel garage doors. I’m sure he was thinking what I was, hoping to see some sign of life, maybe one last employee hanging around after hours that we could bribe to help us out.

“We’ll have to find something else.” His face scrunched into a frown, then said, “Well, let’s at least go inside and get something to eat. I could go for a Red Bull and chips.”

“Chips are for girls,” I said. “I need some manly snack food like beef jerky, the hot as fire kind, preferably.”

Before AJ had a chance to do anything, I looked through the plate glass window and noticed a female attendant inside. She appeared to be in her twenties with long dark hair tied up into a loose bun. She was helping a man dressed in a black jacket and pants.

I shot a glance to the gas pumps. There were no cars. Where’d he come from? We were out in the middle of nowhere on an interstate exit and it was getting dark. The repair garage was closed, so who was this scruffy looking dude? I kept my eyes on the girl attendant, watching her face, and she wasn’t smiling. It was only this girl and a man wearing a stocking cap—oh shit!

Black hat.

Dark clothes.

My eyes strained to see past the display racks of chips and pretzels to get a better view. It looked like the man had one hand in the pocket of his jacket—as if there was something in it. My mind filled in the gaps. It looked like something large.

And hard.

And metal in that pocket.

“What the fuck?” I pitched forward in my seat, trying to make sense of what was happening inside the store. “Do you see that?” My eyes widened as my imagination spun with ideas.

“Let go of my arm, man,” AJ snapped. He was annoyed that the repair garage was closed for the night, but this was important.

“Inside the store…look.”

“So what? Two people in the store. Big deal.”

“There’s a man with a stocking cap and…I think that guy has a gun in his pocket and he’s got it pointed at the girl behind the counter. He’s robbing her. We gotta do something.”

Suddenly, AJ perked up and was peering into the window along with me. “A gun? He doesn’t have a gun. That’s not...” He craned his neck. “Does he have a gun? I don’t wanna get shot. Let’s get out of here.”

“No balls, dude.” I turned and looked at him. “That girl needs our help. Hell, we’re football players. We workout. I’m sure we can take him. We have to do something.” I turned back to check on the girl.

“Fucker, I’m a kicker, not a tackle.”

I kicked open the car door and said, “Come on. We’ve gotta act fast. Let’s just rush him.”

AJ followed suit and with my best bud on my heels, I tore into the small store in an attempt to tackle what I thought was a convenience store thief. But the slick linoleum was too much for my shoes and we bungled our take down. What seemed so well planned out in my mind, turned into nothing more than a bump, but it was enough to throw the guy off balance. In an attempt to break his fall, the thief yanked his hand out of his jacket pocket as he fell to the floor. And much to my surprise, there was no gun.

It was embarrassing to say the least. Two young, well-built football players with ripped abs and bulging biceps, and we couldn’t even take the guy down properly. If that was our best effort, it was all downhill from here.

The three of us scrambled around on the floor, the f-word popping like fireworks. Everything was, “fuck you this” and “fuck you that.” After a bit of a scuffle, the wily old guy in the black cap wrenched himself from our grip. Just as we got to our feet, he sprinted out the door and was gone.

We straightened and pulled ourselves together. I turned to the girl behind the counter, assuming I’d see her mouth gaping and her eyes wide with fear from the attempted robbery. But instead, she stood with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed at us, glaring...mostly at me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You knocked over the snack display,” she huffed.

She threw her hands up in the air as if exasperated with us. I’d been expecting something more like an exuberant, and grateful “thank you,” but she didn’t seem all that freaked out, considering we just saved her life—maybe.

I glanced over my shoulder at the cardboard snack display. “Oh, sorry.”

Bags of fried pork rinds were scattered about. Pork rinds were my favorite. I ate them with hot Tabasco sauce drizzled on top. At least I could get some for the road.

AJ and I looked at the girl in unison and the expression on her face told me she was totally unimpressed with our heroics. AJ turned to me and said, “You asshole, that guy didn’t have a gun.” Then smacked me on the arm.

I threw him a look like, “shut up,” then turned to the girl. Her beautiful face was still “not impressed” but man, she was beautiful.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? Did he hurt you?” I asked.

The girl rolled her eyes and shook her head, her long wispy bangs swaying with the movement. “Um… No. I’m fine, no thanks to you two.”

The girl walked around from behind the cash register and made her way to the toppled pork-rind display. I followed to help her set it upright and gave a head jerk, signaling AJ to join in.

As she bent over to pick up the scattered bags, my eyes perused the curves of her nice ass. The little angel sitting on my shoulder told me I should go straight to a motel and take a cold shower until my thoughts ran clean. The little devil on the other shoulder said, “But what fun would that be? Go for the real thing.”

Still puzzled as to why she wasn’t upset, I said, “You were about to be robbed.” I set the display upright. “Why weren’t you calling the police?”

The girl’s hands dropped to her hips with a huff. “No way, douche bags. That guy’s just a local homeless man.”

Douche bag? Why all the hostility? I just tried to save her life.

I eyed her up and down. She was definitely hot, ebony black hair, long legs, nice ass—and tits, which dominated my focus while we continued talking.

Damn. She made even simple work clothes look sexy. She wore jeans and a white shirt with the company logo on the left breast pocket. The top buttons opened enough to show cleavage and the next two buttons strained across the expanse of her ample breasts.

Nice.

Very inviting.

But her attitude sucked.

“But I saw it,” I said, motioning to AJ with a hand. “We both did. A guy, dressed in all black, you’re here all by yourself, his hand in his pocket. He had a gun…er…well, at least I thought he did.” I shrugged, realizing my wild imagination had played a trick on me. I turned to her again. “Hey, you should feel lucky we came along.”

“No, stupid. I wasn’t being robbed,” she said, a bag of pork rinds flopping against her thigh. “That man comes in here from time to time, and usually I give him something to eat. He’s homeless, duh.” She waved a hand, indicating the nasty hot dogs turning on the metal cylinders in the hot dog cooker and placed the snacks on the display. I wondered, what marketing genius came up with the idea that every gas station convenience store should offer week-old hot dogs, glistening with grease, rolling for who knew how long? Like that would lure in hungry travelers desperate for something to fill their aching stomachs, besides chips and gummy worms.

AJ stepped forward and chimed in, “For the record, I told Cam the dude did not have a gun.” He was beaming with pride, as if to one up me and impress our dark-haired damsel in distress. I could see it. He was so obvious. Shamelessly, he molested her with his eyes as we spoke.

I sneered at him behind the girl’s back as she worked to put the rest of the scattered packages back on the display. I snatched another bag of pork rinds from the floor and shoved it onto the rack. Standing behind her as we worked, I couldn’t help notice a red sheen to her hair as her head bobbed with each movement. It was the kind of trendy hair coloring college girls put in their hair. Girls that were a little bit edgy, that is. My curiosity and adrenaline spiked with the thought. Maybe she knew kinky, sexual techniques she could use on me? Not that my magnificent charm was getting me anywhere with her right now.

I blinked and focused again on the task at hand. My eyes drifted to the greasy hotdogs. “You gave Homeless Guy tube steak? The industry’s best collection of snouts, feet and other unwanted pig parts? The poor guy’ll die of a heart attack before he dies from living on the street.”

Looking even more annoyed with me, the girl furrowed her pretty brow and walked back to her post behind the cash register. Guess I didn’t score any points that time, but what can I say, I’m a football player, I like a challenge.

AJ spoke up again, seemingly eager to reinforce my error in judgment. “Well, anyway, we’re sorry for attacking your homeless friend.” He jabbed a thumb in my direction. “He thought he was robbing you.”

Although I could see from her expression the girl was still annoyed, the last remark brought a hint of smile to her face. I didn’t know if it was a sign that she liked me, or that she liked that I was the butt of AJ’s taunting.

My dark-haired beauty seemed to relax and soften. She leaned her hands on the counter and with a more cordial tone said, “That’s okay. I can take care of myself. I’ve been working the night shift here for a long time.”

My eyes trailed around the dirty inside of the store, swept with the dust of the desert wind. “This is no place for a lady,” I said.

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I just work here part-time while I go to college.” She gave us both a look up and down as if to better assess us.

“You two don’t look like you’re from around here. I suspect you’re traveling. Is there something I can get for you?”

I smiled at her across the counter. “As a matter of fact, there is something. We’re on a trip and we had a blowout back there on the interstate. We need a new tire…or even a used tire would do. But it looks like the repair garage is closed for the night.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said. “It’s closed. Is there anything else I can do?”

An idea was brewing in my mind, and she seemed to be warming to me, so I poured on the charm. Maybe I could sweet-talk her into opening up the repair garage.

“Well, sweetheart, maybe there’s something you can do for us.” I said it using my best player’s voice, the one I used to get women to drop to their knees and throw open my pants. “Do you have keys to the repair garage back there?”

She gave me a look with a cock-teasing glint, and raised a brow.

Hello. What was this? She’d thrown me a challenge.

Her eyes were magnificently dark, with long lashes, and looks of alluring adventures. At least that’s what I saw.

Damn, she was hot.

I let her watch me as I raked my eyes over her, and then I touched the tip of my tongue to my lips, before I spoke. “It’d really help us out if you could unlock the garage and sell us one of those tires.” And it’d also be really helpful if she’d unbutton that shirt one more button. I stared at two nice round breasts peeking out of her uniform shirt. She must’ve done something to the shirt, made it tighter, because she looked so damn good in it.

“I know the size of tire we need, doll. All you have to do is open the door and I’ll just snag one, put it on the car, so we can get on our way. And we won’t bother you anymore.”

I smiled my best dimpled grin, accompanied by a wink, then placed one hand on the counter and leaned forward, ever so slightly, my bicep muscle flexing as I moved. I wanted to get into her space enough to show dominance and let her feel the tension of my energy, but not enough to scare her off. This girl was a hot-tamale. I wanted to lick her up and down. I bet she was the type who liked to go all night, ride on top, so she could grind at her own pace.

With her dark eyes locked on mine, the girl parted her lips to speak. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, which drove me crazy, but I knew I had her convinced. She hesitated, her ebony eyes measuring me, and I swore she let out a hot breath, before she spoke. “All right,” she said and snatched a gnarly set of keys from a small hook below the cash register.

She spun, stepped out from behind the counter and headed to the door. “I’m not supposed to open the repair garage after hours,” she said over her shoulder as she walked. “Why do I have the feeling this’s gonna come back and kick me in the ass, later?”

I shot a confident look at AJ and followed behind her with my best pimp walk making a gesture with my hand to him like, “Yeah, I’m that damn good.”

I stopped goofing around when the girl pushed open the glass door and turned to warn us. “If I lose my job over this...you two jerks are toast.”

I gave her a friendly salute and we followed her to the silver roll up doors of the repair garage.

She turned the key to unlock the small side door leading to the office, and said, “Make it quick, will ya? I’m not supposed to leave the cash register unattended.” She stood at the door while we cut through the office to the garage to search for a tire.

We located one quickly and rolled it out to AJ’s car and left the girl to lock up. When she walked past the car to return to her post, she paused, looked me dead in the eye and licked her lips. My pulse spiked and my cock twitched. I nearly groaned. She was playing me hard, but why the change in attitude? Whatever it was, I didn’t care. All I wanted was those lips around my cock and I’d probably have to think about her later in the shower.

“You can pay me inside…for the tire, when you’re done.” And with a heart stopping pout, she snapped to her right and walked away leaving me drooling onto my skintight shirt.

What was she doing? First, she’s cold as ice, now she’s flirting like crazy. Was she messing with me?

AJ hadn’t noticed since he was working on the tire. I just stood there, bewildered, gazing at her through the window, fascinated by this woman, despite her seemingly annoyed attitude with me.

AJ looked up from his work and saw me gawking. “She was a total bitch and we were just trying to help,” he said.

“Hey, come on. We assaulted her charity cause. You know women. They like to rescue lost puppies and shit like that.” I held out my hand to hold the lug nuts again as AJ worked on the tire. AJ paused from spinning the wrench and studied me. “You’d better start acting like a lost puppy then, because it sure looks like you have the hots for her. You do, don’t you? You’re envisioning her hand down your pants right now, aren’t you, Romeo?”

“I’m envisioning both her hands down my pants.”

“Horndog.”

I wiggled my eyebrows and said, “I think I’m in love.”

“You ain’t got a chance with her. She’s probably saving herself for Mr. Right.”

“And you don’t think I’m Mr. Right? I thought she was sweet,” I said.

“Sweet? She was pissed. But most definitely, she is hot. Did you see her ass when she bent over?” He winced and smiled at the memory.

“Um…now that you mention it…I already had my cock six inches deep into that ass…in my mind, of course.”

“You sick fuck. Bet you can’t get her number.”

“Oh, you think I can’t?

“Shit. It really doesn’t matter. Her number won’t do you any good. We’re on our way to Vegas and she lives here in…” AJ swiveled his head around, scanning the surroundings. “Where the hell are we? Flagstaff? I mean, seriously, dude, with you living in Texas, I doubt you’ll be dating her.” He stood and said, “But hey, I’ll make you a real bet. I like being on the winning side any day, so go inside and see what you can do.”

I walked away wearing a smile. AJ called after me, “And pay for the damn tire while you’re in there. Don’t get sidetracked staring at her tits.”

I flipped him a teasing middle finger, as I opened the glass door. Mr. Right or not, girls crossed every line to be with a guy like me. This would be a piece of cake.

After going inside, I returned, sporting a huge grin. I yanked the car door open and slid in. Tapping my watch, I said, “Three minutes. Score!”

AJ gaped at me. “What? You got off in three minutes?”

“No, fucker. It only took me three minutes and…touchdown.”

“So you got her number?”

“No. I got something better.”

“You got some wood?”

“Asshole. I got an invite. You just can’t stand to lose, can you? Told you I could do it. Ha! Chew on that for a while.” I settled into my seat, puffing my chest like a peacock. I needed a minute to bask in my glory and rub it in.

AJ stared at me, waiting to hear the rest. “Well…what invite?”

“She said to meet her at the bar tonight. Said her name is Allie and she’s gonna be there with some friends.”

AJ rolled his eyes. “Dumbass. I’ll believe it when I see it. She was bullshitting you. She won’t show.” He snorted a laugh. “Thinks you’re some creeper-douchebag who wears too much Axe cologne.”

“I don’t wear too much cologne.” I turned to look at him. “Do I really wear too much cologne?” I lifted the neck edge of my t-shirt and sniffed.

AJ shook his head. “She just told you that so you’d fuck off.” He jammed the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life.

“No, seriously. She’s gonna be there. I can tell. I saw the look in her eyes. She wants me.” I grinned and clicked on my seatbelt.

“Okay, we’ll see. But the bets not over until we see if she shows. I haven’t lost yet, mo-fo.”

“What are you, black now? What’s with the black man’s lingo, ‘mo-fo’?”

He cranked the wheel and threw me a dirty look. “I’m half African American. You know that, and black comes in many splendid shades.”

“Yes, I know. I especially enjoyed your sister that weekend she came to visit from her college.

“Go fuck yourself. You never hooked up with my sister. She told me how she shut you down. So, you’re wrong on both accounts and I can speak in whatever lingo I want.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, bro,” I said. “Your coffee’s got a lot of cream in it…I’m just saying. Plus, you dress like an old, white golfer.”

He looked at me indignantly. “My look is classic. I like quality made clothes. A person’s clothes say a lot about them, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” I laughed as I teased him.

“Shut the fuck up. You shop at Champs sports wear at the mall. You wouldn’t know designer clothes if they slapped you in the face, shithead.”

“What can I say, I’m a quarterback. I have bulging muscles, unlike your spaghetti noodle arms.” I clamped a hand on my bicep.

AJ laughed and took his eyes off the road only long enough to glance my way. “Where the hell are we going anyway?” he asked, slowing the car and pulling to the curb. “If we’re gonna meet your hot date, we need to know the name of the place, and then we need to get a motel for the night...a cheap one.”

“Alright, alright.” I shifted in my seat and pulled my cell out of my pocket to start a search for a cheap motel.

“What’s the name of the bar we’re supposed to meet her at?” he asked as I scrolled.

Without looking up, I said, “The Beaver Street Brewery…”

Before I could finish he cut me off. “Seriously, dude? Beaver Street?”

“I kid you not.” I looked up from my phone. “That’s what she said.”

“Argh.” AJ groaned.

“What?”

“That’s gotta be a made up name. She really did just tell you a bunch of bullshit. There can’t possibly be a bar in this town called, Beaver Brewery. Nobody would name a drinking establishment...Beaver.”

I’d been frantically tapping on my phone, looking up the brewery name to prove him wrong, but I was beginning to think he was right. Maybe everything Allie had said really was a bunch of bullshit.

Beaver Brewery.

I bit my lip. It certainly did sound suspicious and my hopes were falling quickly. Then I found it. Triumphantly, I held out my arm showing him the glowing screen of my phone and said, “Ha! There. See that? Beaver Street Brewery, 11 Beaver Street. In yo face! She’s gonna be there and I’m gonna win the bet. Be prepared to cry yourself to sleep tonight, my friend…” I glowered and wagged my head, teasing him with his own words. “Mo-fo.”

On the outside, I was all confidence and machismo, but on the inside I feared AJ was right. Allie was gorgeous and I wanted to meet up with her, but I wondered if she was even attracted to me. Why it mattered, I didn’t know.

It shouldn’t.

I was no stranger to getting chicks and my usual MO was to have fun then cut them loose once the sun came up. I had the look they all liked, well-defined physique, deep blue eyes, strong jaw, and I wore my hair in a modern cut with the sides shaved, but the top long enough for a lock to fall in my eye if not smoothed back, or sometimes I’d buzz it all off for football season. Usually, picking up girls was easy, but this new conquest, Allie, was a bigger challenge than the others. She didn’t fall all over me the way others did. No, quite the opposite. She seemed disinterested and annoyed with me when we first met. Then she threw me that hot look as she walked past the car. I couldn’t figure her out. First she was cold, then hot. The fiery look in her dark blue eyes piqued my desire and at the same time, dared me to take what I couldn’t have. Suddenly, the silly bet between AJ and me shifted and there was a new challenge. Now it was between Allie and me.

I had to have her. Even if only for one night.