When I first saw Vanessa on the side of the road, my anger was back in full swing. The reminder of having to date her upset me, but as she stood there looking worse for the wear, I couldn’t just leave her there alone. When I’d offered to give her a lift, I didn’t like the way she turned her nose up at me. Pissed me off. Then she about killed me when she stepped into my car with her muddy shoes. I almost wanted to say something, tell her to hold her feet out the window or something. I sure wasn’t happy having her dirty up the car I was about to lose if I didn’t date her for an entire damn month. What do chicks like her even like to do for a month?

The coffee shop is like something out of a thriller movie. It has such a creepy vibe that I keep checking over my shoulder to ensure we are alone. Quiet and eerie, it has a neon sign on the door that blinks the shop’s name: A Fresh Start and a bell above it that jingles to let the empty restaurant know we have arrived. I glance at the man working the counter as Vanessa lets out a sigh of relief.

Over an order of black coffee, I smile at Vanessa.

She’s had a rough night: her blonde hair falls across her forehead and her skirt is slit halfway up her backside. None of it matters. I can’t stop staring at her pale blue eyes.

Of course, she is hot. I wouldn’t turn her away from my bed. I might even tie her up so she stayed put. But just the thought of the bet cramps my style, upsetting me more.

We settle in a booth near the back to sip our drinks.

“This is better than walking, right? You seem upset. Everything okay?” I ask her.

“Sorry, it’s not you. I’ve just had a horror-story kind of night.”

“Can’t be that bad. Want to talk?”

“With you?” she asks, incredulous, looking at me like I have flying saucers erupting from my head. What’s this fucking chick’s deal?

“Why not?”

The door to the shop opens, and in strolls the blond guy from their argument at the party.

“There you are,” he says, masking his concerned expression.

“Jordan, not now.” Paying no attention to her words, he slides into the booth beside us and in an instant makes himself at home.

My adrenaline pumps up; I am on high alert if he gets too close. I’m tall and pack plenty of muscle, so I’m sure fighting will lead to a win for me.

“I have been looking everywhere for you, Vanessa,” he says, not even glancing my way. “Why did you leave?”

Prick.

“Sorry, Jordan. Meet Trace,” she says, gesturing between us.

He eyes me like a cop searching a suspect and then nods his head. “Hey,” he says.

Grunting back to him, I watch the two stare at each other. The tension between them makes me feel uneasy.

“Well, you should have told me you were leaving. I was worried.” He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t have to tell you my every move,” she bites back.

He growls and leans against the table.

“I saw your car on the road and became worried. Why didn’t you answer your cell?”

“Dead.” She shrugs and waves a hand in the air.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks her, suggesting himself.

“I can take you home.” The words pour easily out of my mouth.

Her eyes widen at my suggestion, and Jordan looks ready to kill. It’s obvious this guy likes her, so what’s the deal with them?

“No, Vanessa. I’ll take you home,” he snaps.

“Sorry, dude. She’d rather leave with me,” I say, puffing out my chest.

She glares to Jordan as though debating the offers in her mind. Her head dips down, and she is mesmerizing.

Leaning across the table, I touch her hand. “Let me take you home, Vanessa.”

Her hand twitches as she lets out a soft breath and her eyes float up to meet mine. My effect on her is evident, and I smile to myself, knowing it’s getting easier to land myself in a relationship with her.

“I’ll call you in the morning, Jordan.” She stands, grabs her coffee, and heads towards the door.

Jordan looks dumbfounded as he hops to his feet.

“Are you kidding? You’re leaving with him?” He yells at her like she’s some twelve-year-old schoolgirl.

I jolt out of my seat, not wanting to miss my chance to spend more time with her.

“Jordan, I just need to be alone. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says, throwing the coffee into the trash bin.

“No, you’ll call me tonight so I know you made it home safe,” he demands.

This statement pisses me off. I will get her home safe!

“I think she’ll be fine,” I say, remaining calm in front of him as I place my hand on the small of her back.

“Jordan, I’ve had a long night. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I open the door for her and we step outside, leaving Jordan standing alone in the shop.

After one last look to Jordan, who looks like a lost puppy standing at the window, I speed away. I know one thing: if looks could kill, I’d be dead.

“So where are we headed?” I ask, hoping she asks me to take her somewhere more intimate.

“Umm, I’m headed home. You can head wherever you want,” she says with a smile.

I slow my car down so I can prolong my time with her. I need to ask her out, but my nerves are shot. What is wrong with me?

“I’d like to see you again?”

Smooth; don’t sound too desperate.

“You want to see me again? Why?” she asks after directing me to her house.

“What do you mean, why? Can’t I want to spend time with you?”

I glance over to see her looking at me out of the corner of her eyes. She’s skeptical, and now I need to lay on the Trace-full-of-grace charm.

“Hey, I thought we were getting along here,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

She shifts in her seat and lets out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a bad night.”

“It’s okay. You want to talk?” I ask again.

Vanessa laughs a hysterical laugh. Did I say something wrong? She giggles so hard she may burst. You know when someone laughs and then you laugh, with no rhyme or reason? My laughter erupts from deep within my belly and takes hold. Driving down the darkened streets, our hysteria fills the car.

“Hey, I’m glad I could cheer you up.” Facing her for a brief moment, I listen to her coo. It is the softest sound; it purrs like my Cobra’s engine. Happy to be the one to make her smile, pride fills me. What could have upset her?

“Thank you. I needed that,” she says as her laughter ceases, and she glances out the window, leading me down the street towards her house.

“You gonna go out with me or what?” I ask, bluntly.

“Wow, does this work on other girls?” She shifts in the seat to face me.

I turn left on the street where she lives, and she points to the last house. I only have a little time, and I need to seal this deal.

“Yeah, actually, it does.”

Her home is yellow with a wrap-around porch. In her driveway is a silver sports car. I pull behind it and put my Cobra in park.

“Whose car?” I ask.

“My roommate Maxine is home,” she informs me as she gathers her things to exit the car .

I give her my award-winning smile and try harder.

“I’d love to go on a date. Please. I need to see you smile.” I’m completely honest there: I would love to see that gorgeous smile again.

Her face contorts, trying to figure things out, as her pouty lips lift into a smile.

“Trace, I know what kind of guy you are,” she says.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I want to hear what she thinks.

“The kind who doesn’t do dates.”

“I think you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“Oh, then maybe I need to get to know you better,” she says with a sly smile.

Our eyes meet, and I can’t look away.

My voice drops. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

Her face lights up, which does something to me. Her pointy little nose dips down as her hair falls over her face. She reaches with one hand and brushes it out of her eyes, which makes me shiver.

With the other hand, she opens the door. “I’ll see you around, Trace. Thanks for the ride.”

“Wait, is that a yes?” I yell a little too frantic.

She moves away from the car, shutting the door behind her.

I fall back in the seat. Oh, I love a challenge.