By the time Blackjack and I finish shopping, my clothes are nearly dry. We return to the townhomes where I help him carry our purchases inside. Soaked again, I leave Blackjack with the promise of returning for dinner. He walks me to Ginger’s back door even though I don’t need him to. Standing in the pouring rain, Blackjack watches me until I hurry upstairs for a shower.

As I strip out of my soaking clothes, I think of him doing the same on the other side of the adjoining wall. I can’t wait to see the tattoos hiding under his clothes. I want to run my fingers through his chest hairs. Maybe I’ll tug at his fur as if ready to cause him pain. Then Blackjack will give me that look he always gives me when I act weird. I very much love that look.

“What did you do today?” Ginger asks after I step into the hot shower.

Before I close the curtain, I notice her jump up to sit on the counter. “We went to Denny’s, a trailer park, and Wal-Mart.”

“What did you do at the trailer park?”

“Checking on the whores.”

“Anything you need to report?”

“Not right now.”

“Why not right now?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Okay,” she says in a soft, unhappy voice.

I peer out from the shower curtain and find Ginger frowning. “Why are you sad? Is Oz not putting out?”

“You sound like Clove.”

“Yeah, she says you’re really horny,” I tease before returning to washing my hair. “Blackjack makes me really horny.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s because he’s sexy. Isn’t that why you get horny for Oz?”

“Yes, but I’m...”

“What?” I ask from behind the curtain.

“You’re not on birth control. We need to fix that.”

“I don’t want to take birth control.”

“You’re not ready for a baby.”

Opening the curtain, I shake my head. “I don’t want more pills.”

“You can get a shot.”

“No,” I say, glaring at her now. “Shots hurt. Why can’t he use a condom?”

“I guess, he can.”

“Don’t cry.”

Ginger’s frown gets angry. “I’m not crying.”

“You could have fooled me,” I say and turn off the water. “You should be happy that I’m not trying to kill anyone.”

“I am. I want you to be happy, but maybe you’re rushing into this thing with Blackjack because you’re upset that I married Oz and you have to share me now.”

“No,” I mumble from under the towel. “I like having Alani and Makoa here. Oz is okay, and I like Tana. She smiles when I help her cook. I was scared when you started dating Oz because it was new, but it’s nice here now. It’s better than Little Memphis.”

Ginger smiles at me for the first time since I told her about dating Blackjack. She worries about me, and I worry about her. I had to learn not to stab the man she loves, and Ginger will no doubt learn to do the same. Just like the crew told me years ago, friendship involves compromise, and compromise means I couldn’t steal food from their plates whenever I wanted. Well, Ginger and I are now learning about compromise when it comes to men.

I stand naked in front of the mirror and frown at my reflection. “Are my boobs weird-looking?”

“No.”

“I want Blackjack to think I’m pretty.”

“He does.”

“Are we going to kill the deputy that arrested me?”

“Do you want to?” Ginger asks while playing with my wet hair.

“I don’t know. I think the cops need an ass-whooping around here, but I don’t want to cause trouble for the crew and club. What does Oz think?”

Ginger’s eyes light up. “Do you really care what he thinks?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I want us to be happy here, and he knows Rawlins. I also think he should make Blackjack his VP because I think Blackjack is better than the others whose names I don’t remember.”

“Well, there you go. No better reason.”

“Oz is smart, right?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t like killing cops,” Ginger says and then adds, “Or women or anyone really. He’s a gentle spirit in the body of a god.”

“Okay,” I mumble since I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about. “I don’t know what Blackjack wants. I’m still getting to know him, but I think he’s nicer than me.”

“I doubt that.”

“He is attracted to me because I’m broken, and he likes to save broken women. I’m attracted to him because he’s sexy and I like sexy men who are tall and muscular and have nice hands.”

“The other club guys are tall and muscular and have nice hands.”

“Really? I never noticed that about them.”

“You never noticed him either,” Ginger mutters. “Until you did.”

“Yeah, and now I want to hump him.”

“Because of his hands?”

“And the rest of his body, but he has nice hands. They have tattoos on them. I like when they touch me.”

“Sex is natural.”

Blinking rapidly, I feel like she’s talking in code. “I know.”

“You seemed grossed out when I had sex.”

“I was scattered then, but I feel better now. I like it here. I’m happier now.”

Ginger wraps a towel around me before our hug. This is her silent reminder that running around naked isn’t acceptable for most people. I forget sometimes all the rules about being normal. Wear clothes. Don’t steal. Use my words. Don’t bite people. Plus, little things like how close I should stand to people and how loud to talk.

With Blackjack, I’ve done good at remembering the rules and controlling my moods. An entire day together might prove too hard, so I decide to take a pill and increase my odds of remaining on my best behavior.