Holy. Shit. I had just been rejected—no, let’s rephrase that: I’d been annihilated.
Trust me, if you were the last man on earth and the survival of mankind relied on us copulating, I still wouldn’t fuck you.
Rae’s words echoed in my ears as I watched her hips sashay somewhat provocatively back to the wrecker. I was glad she had her back to me, because I must’ve looked pretty fucking pathetic standing there in all my rejected glory. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been rejected.
It had to have been back in middle school when Shelley Dupree wouldn’t go to the end-of-the-year dance with me. In her words, she didn’t want to go with “the fat Renard”. Sure, I was a bit heftier back then. After three years of my parents working in different parts of Mexico, I had come to love the cuisine. Would I have called myself fat? Probably not. Up until Shelley’s rejection, my weight hadn’t been much of an issue since it served me well on the football field. As I grew older and my height evened out with my weight, it was no longer an issue.
When I hit high school, I had my pick of any girl I wanted. After all, I played football and was in a band. That was like bottled sex to girls, but back then, I was a lot more pious and faithful than I was lately. While I wasn’t sporting a purity ring like the Jonas Brothers, I didn’t lose my virginity until I was seventeen, and that was in a long-term relationship.
Then when Jacob’s Ladder saw a little success, my appeal with women skyrocketed. Not only did our music turn more secular, you could say I succumbed to the temptations of the world. While I still considered myself someone of immense faith and belief, I wasn’t on the straight and narrow path.
As Rae screeched off in the wrecker, it kicked up a mud storm that splatted all over the hood of the Jeep. “Fuck!” I shouted when a blob smacked me in the face. Tearing my shirt over my head, I wiped my cheek. Apparently when I’d thought this day couldn’t get any worse, the universe had decided to say, Hold my beer!
I stomped around the car and threw open the door. I was sure I looked just like Jax and Jules when they threw a tantrum. After pressing the ignition button, I shifted the gear and the Jeep lurched forward. As I started careening back down the dirt roads to get the hell out of Bumblefuck, my thumbs absentmindedly began tapping out a beat on the steering wheel.
Momentarily taking my eyes off the road, I glanced down at my hands. Without a second thought, I began humming the melody my thumbs were playing. While humming a few bars, words began to form in my mind.
“You pried me from the walls of my prison,” I sang out.
The moment the line escaped my lips, I slammed on the brakes. “Holy shit!” After cutting the wheel hard to the right, I pulled off the road into a clearing. I threw open the glove box and grabbed out my notebook. My hand fumbled inside to try to retrieve my pen, but as hard as I searched, I couldn’t find it. “No, no, no! Not now!”
My wild gaze spun around the inside of the Jeep. Just as I was ready to prick my finger and write in blood so as to not lose my muse, something shiny flashed from my cup holder. “Fuck yes,” I muttered.
Holding the pen up to the light, I read the words embossed on the side: Hart and Daughter Wreckers. I rolled my eyes as I realized Rae was going to be saving me for the second time that day. Furiously, I began scribbling the line down, and then, like a dam had broken, the words started rushing at me so fast I feared I might not be able to write fast enough.
The first streaks of amber sunlight sliced across the blackened sky, waking me from a deep sleep. Blinking my eyes, I surveyed my surroundings. Sometime during the night, I’d passed out in the back of the Jeep. Based on the position I’d slept in, I was sure I was going to have a hell of a crick in my neck.
With a groan, I rose into a sitting position. As I ground the sleep from my eyes with my fist, my elbow brushed against my notebook, knocking it onto the seat. Then it hit me: I’d spent most of the night writing. The words had come so fast and furiously that my hand had cramped trying to keep up.
Glancing through my notebook, I slowly shook my head back and forth. “I’ll be damned,” I muttered.
Somehow I’d managed to crawl out of my pit of writer’s block to pen a song. After I read over the lyrics, I smacked the pages with an enthusiastic fist bump. They weren’t just words taking up the lines of the paper; they were good words—fucking incredible words.
I couldn’t help wondering what had made the difference. Was it staying out all night under the stars? No—I’d tried that already both from my balcony in the city and at Jake’s farm. It hadn’t helped.
I realized what the difference was: a petite brunette with a tight ass, perky tits, and a smart mouth…a woman who hadn’t given two shits about my celebrity status and had put me in my place.
Rae was the difference.
She had been the key to unlocking my writer’s block. Something about just being in her presence had inspired me more than any other woman, and I couldn’t help thinking the more I was around her, the more I’d be able to write. I might even be able to get the entire album done in just a couple of days.
Fuck. I had to see her again as soon as possible.
Of course, there was the glaring issue that she despised me. Yeah, she hadn’t just turned me down; my advances had utterly crashed and burned. But, maybe if I explained my situation to her, she would change her mind. What woman wouldn’t want to be a man’s muse? That was all kinds of romantic.
Glancing in the rear-view mirror, I recoiled at my reflection. Not only was my hair a mess, I was starting to resemble the Wolfman with my lack of shaving. I lifted my arm to sniff under my arms. Eli might’ve been exaggerating about me stinking the previous day, but I certainly did now after wading through the mud and sleeping in the car.
There was no way I could see Rae like this. If I was going to ask her to hang out with me, I needed to look presentable, sexy, desirable—not like a swamp-man, as I did now. Surely if she spent more than five minutes with me, she’d want me. Yeah, I could start slow, lure her in, let her see what she was missing because she’d written me off.
Although I had a change of clothes with me, I found myself with a lack of running water. When I checked the time on my phone, I saw it was barely seven a.m. I had plenty of time to find a hotel or motel to get presentable in before Rae got to work. While I worked on improving my physical self, I would also need to work on how to get Rae to accept my compromise. Then she’d have no choice but to like me…right?