As I walk to work, I pull my jacket closed to keep the wet, cool morning air off my skin. The air has turned chilly in the mornings which is a sign that fall is upon us. I’ve always loved the colder weather. The girls think I’m crazy, but there’s just something about the crisp air. The way the frost glistens from everything it has touched overnight. The sound and feel of the crunch of fallen leaves under my feet. They always talk about going to Hawaii or the Bahamas. Not me, I want the Rockies or the Big Horn Mountains. To watch the snow, do an exotic dance coming to rest on the mountain tops. The way the trees sparkle when the frost has covered them like a blanket. When you take a deep breath and watch it leave your body, a sign that you’re alive. Jackson Hole Wyoming, now that’s where I would love to go someday. To live so close, but to never have been there just seems like a crime.

Football season is upon us, and the Broncos are playing at home. What that means to me, is that Delish will be slammed ass busy, aka tips, and lots of them. It’s always a fun day at work when it’s game day. Leila is a diehard Broncos fan. She always decorates the place out with more Bronco paraphernalia than normal and serves the most awesome tailgate style food. She brings out this big ass TV and sets up surround sound. Most the time I’m pretty sure it’s as loud in the restaurant as it is at the actual game.

It’s during the fourth quarter, and the Broncos are so far ahead that the game is pretty much already over. The crowd has thinned out a bit, so I know Leila can handle it, and it’s safe to step outside for a bit. I’m hotter than the hubs of hell, and I’m in desperate need of some fresh air. I never wear much makeup, but what I did put on earlier I’m sure is long gone. I give Leila the fanning my face motion and point toward the door. She responds by plugging her nose like I stink. I mouth the word bitch to her, and she just laughs and waves me away.

When I open the door, the air is cool and feels so good against my skin. Plopping down at the table and chairs that sit on the front porch, I kick my feet up into the chair next to me then set my iced latte down. Pulling the pen out that has been holding my out of control hair from my face, I let my head fall back against the chair.

Right after letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion I hear that heavenly voice again. “Rough night?”

At first, I think it is all in my head until I hear it again. “Rough night?”

My head snaps forward so fast I’m pretty sure I just gave myself whiplash. Jumping out of my chair knocking it over as I do, I hear him say, “Whoa, Kitten. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Holy fucking shit!  It’s him. I try and get my whits about me, but I just stand here with my mouth hanging wide open like a damn idiot. My God, he looks even more fabulous than he did the first time I saw him. His baseball cap is pulled down low over his eyes. His black leather coat is gapping open to show his muscular chest covered tightly with a gray T-shirt. Perfectly fitting jeans with the knees ripped out, and the seams around his black work boots are all frayed and ragged.

“Oh, it’s okay. I just didn’t know anyone else was out here.” I pull my hair back and twist it onto the top of my head sticking my pen through it to hold it up. Straightening my shirt, I hope it will help my disheveled appearance.

‘Holy shit, Sarah stop, just stop,’ I say to myself.

When I pull my attention back from trying to hide the, I’ve just worked hours with a bunch of rowdy football fans look. I realize that he is standing just inches away from me. Looking up into his eyes, my heart starts to race, my breathing is shallow, and goose bumps form on my skin. He starts to lean down like he’s going to kiss me. I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Holy shit! Is he going to try to kiss me? What should I do? I want to kiss him so bad! I don’t even know him, but I know I want him.

That malicious voice inside my head barks, ’Sarah, pull your head out of your ass! Why would he want to kiss such a fucked up, worthless bitch? You stupid cunt!’

My heart sinks a little, alright a lot when I realize that he’s just bending down to pick up the chair I had knocked over. He gives me that smirk as he sets the chair back by the table.

“So, looks like there’s been one a hell of a party in there.” He motions his head towards inside, but his eyes never leave mine.

Tucking a strand of hair that has escaped the pen trap “Yeah, it’s like this when the Broncos play.”

“Oh, yeah, the Broncos. Great hockey team!”

I can only imagine the look I have on my face because he instantly starts laughing.

“Don’t worry, I know, its football. Just messing with ya.”

He moves toward the door holding it open for me to go inside first. Leila is behind the counter filling a pitcher of beer, the look on her face when she glances over her shoulder is absolutely priceless. In fact, she is so taken back that she doesn’t even notice that beer starts to flow over the edges of the pitcher. She says more than a few obscenities that would probably make a construction worker blush before grabbing a towel to try and catch some of her mess.

I can’t help but laugh at her as I start to walk behind the counter.

Taking my arm, he says, “Hey, where are you going?”

“Umm… Back to work.” Not sure where he’s going with this, “Why?”

“Can’t you sit and talk for a little while?”

Just as the words finish leaving his mouth someone yells. “Touchdown!” And the crowd booms with excitement.

He’s leaning down so close that I can smell him. My God, he smells of pure heaven. It’s a mix of a woodsy, fresh air, manly smell. Then add in the aroma that is coming from the leather of his jacket. Holy shit, I think I might just come right here right now.

“Ahh, that’s why. Well, can I get a beer then?”

“Sure thing, have a seat,” I tell him pointing to the open group of seats at the counter.

I feel a smile cross my face. The kind of smile that generates from deep down in your heart. Not one of those ‘I’m just smiling because it’s the right thing to do,’ smile.  A genuine smile. Wow, that feels so good, I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.

I make my way around the counter, grabbing a frosted mug and head over to where Leila is still filling pitchers. I stand there silent while grinning like a goof, but I just can’t help myself. I can see Leila looking at me out of the corner of her eye. I try and force an irritated look that she’s taking so long. “Crap lady, you move like old people fuck.”

Leila starts howling with laughter. “My dear, exactly how would you know how old people fuck?”

“Well, if it’s anything like you pour beer then I have a pretty good idea.”

Leila gets an evil grin on her face and shakes her head. “Good one!”

“I see that Mr. Mystery Meat has returned. Where’d you find him?” She gives a sly look over her shoulder.

“When I was outside on the porch he just came out of nowhere. Scared the shit outta me, to be honest. Not like Chucky or Freddy kind of scared. More like I’m hearing voices in my head type of scared.”

“He just came out of nowhere? Don’t you think that’s kind of odd, Sarah? I mean, before a few weeks ago we had never seen him before. Then he disappears and now he just mysteriously appears again.”

“Christ Leila, no I don’t think that’s weird at all. I think it sounds perfectly legit. Besides, you see him. I’m sure there are worse ways to go.”

Shrugging her shoulder, she says, “Sarah, you just can’t be too careful these days. Stalkers, kidnappers, there are all kinds of sick fucks out there.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Shit, if only I were lucky enough to have someone like him stalk or kidnap me.”

The guys start yelling at Leila, asking what’s taking her so long. Being the smartass that I am I holler out, “Give her a break guys, she’s old!”

I notice that my hand is shaking as I fill the mug and my heart is beating out of control. When I turn around, our eyes meet, he has this cute smirk on his face. Holy shit, I think I just melted.

His hand touches mine ever so slightly as he takes the mug from me, sending shivers down my spine. “I was hoping I would run into you.”

I can’t hide the excitement in my voice. “Into me?”

He nods his head, gesturing someone next to me. “Nope, her.”

Instantly, I whip my head around to see who is next to me and plotting bodily harm to whoever it is, but there’s no one there. He starts laughing. “Yeah, you.”

I feel it as the burn of embarrassment over takes over my face. “Smartass.”

“I’ve been called that before.”

The crowd starts the famous countdown indicating the end of the game. I hold up my finger because I know the volume of the countdown to zero will be deafening. He gives me a questioning look then shakes his head that he gets it.

Delish explodes with deafening cheers, whoops, and whistles. He tries to yell over the crowd, “I take it they won.”

Not being able to resist, I tease him, “Nope, but you should see it when they do!”

A slight look of confusion sweeps across his face. I see his eyes light up when he catches on to what I just said “Smartass.”

Resting my hip against the counter and shrugging my shoulders in a nonchalant way, I tell him, “Yeah, I’ve been called that before.”

He stands up and leans in toward me. The stubble from his strong jaw grazes my cheek as his lips reach my ear. “That’s fucking awesome, Kitten. He doesn’t pull back right away.

My pulse is racing even harder than it already was. I’m sure that he can hear my heart beating like a fucking marching band. I take a deep breath, inhaling his delectable smell.  My eyes start to roll into the back of my head. My God, I have never in my life smelled anything so wonderful.

He stands here for a few moments more before he sits back down. I want to bury my face in his chest and simply breathe him in. I want to wrap myself in his smell, in those strong arms, and drown in his eyes. I bet there I’d be safe from all the horrors that taunt me. I snap back into the here and now when a customer lets out the longest most disgusting belch and slams his beer bottle down on the counter. We both just stare at each other. We try to hold back our laughter, but it’s an epic fail, and we both burst out sounding like hyenas!

The man smacks his oversized gut and looks at the two of us like we’ve lost our minds. “Good game, right kids?”

In unison, we both answer, “Yep.” Then just like nothing odd just happened the distended man turns around and leaves.

At the top of her lungs, Leila yells, “Don’t go away mad, just go away!”

Grabbing his coat from the back of his chair, he says, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

Holy shit, Leila’s timing couldn’t be worse. I want to fucking throttle her like there’s no tomorrow. I know I’m not hiding the disappointment that has rushed over me very well. That only pisses me off further. I hate feeling like I need someone. Even more, I hate the fact that everyone can see it.

Scratching at a rough spot on the counter top with my fingernail, I say, “Yeah, sure.”

He reaches over, placing his hand under my chin, lifting my face so that he is looking directly into my eyes. “Don’t get that look, Kitten. I’ll see you soon. Promise.”

Before he steps through the door, he turns around and gives me a smile and a wink. Then he’s gone. Right along with my good mood.

I start collecting stray dishes as Leila herds the last of party goers out the door. Locking the door and flipping the switch on the open sign off, she starts skipping toward me like a little girl.

“Somebody got a boyfriend! Somebody got a boyfriend!”

“What the fuck ever! Jesus, Leila, you’re such a dumbass.”

With a look of hurt and disbelief on her face, she places her hand up to her mouth and bats her eyelashes. “Moi? A dumbass?”

I glare at her. “Yeah, you! And since when did you become French?”

“Sweetie, there are many, many things you don’t know about me. Now enough pussyfooting around. What was tall, dark and sexy doing here?”

Shrugging my shoulders. “I have no idea. It was too loud to talk really and then you had to go and kick everyone out. He promised that he would be seeing me again soon. But, I’m not willing to put money on that. Why would he? I mean, really? Why?”

With a loud bang that makes me jump almost out of my own skin, Leila slams the tub of dishes down on the counter. She has got one pissed off look on her face as she stares me down. “Now, why wouldn’t you put money on it? I swear, Sarah. If you say because you don’t have any I will kick your smart ass into next week!”

I know better than to open my mouth at this point let alone to say something sarcastic. I am willing to put money on this fact. She is not fucking around right now.

“Let me tell you a little story. It’s about this girl, who at a very early age was dealt a shitty fucking hand in life. Unfortunately, she didn’t realize that there was more. That she deserved more. That not every guy is like her douche bag, piece of shit father! Who I might add she owes nothing too.” She stops to take in a deep breath.

Shit just got serious and fast.  Not being sure if she is done or not, I stand here looking at the floor. After a moment that feels like it lasts forever she continues. “I think what breaks my heart the most, is the fact that she listens to those evil fucking voices inside her head more than she does the people that are right here. Right here. Right here beside her!”

She picks up the tub and heads toward the back room.

Over my shoulder, I see Oscar standing in the kitchen window looking at me. There’s care and concern etched on his face. “She’s right, ya know?”

Shit! I love Leila’s no hold barred attitude, but I hate it when I’m the target of it. I seriously fucked up. I know better than to let anyone see the weakness that is me. Hearing the dishes being loaded, I quickly load up my arms with the last of the stray glasses and head back. I know that to lighten this situation I need to do a one hundred and eighty-degree turn. I need to focus on wearing that mask of happiness and only take it off when it’s safe. When I’m alone.

I push the door open, accidentally hitting it against the wall behind it. “Hey lady, did you hear that the Bronco’s won and the only place that they are willing to go to celebrate their victory is this mom and pop place called Delish? They heard that the little old lady that runs it makes some killer bread pudding!”

Leila’s shoulders drop, and she hangs her head. I set the glasses down. “Come on. I’m sorry, Okay?”

“That’s just it, Sarah! You don’t have to be sorry. What you need to do is see how wonderful and amazing you are. I don’t know that I have ever met a more spirited person. But it’s buried, you’ve buried it. It’s begging to be set free.”

I can feel my chest start to tighten, it’s getting harder to breathe, the ringing in my ears is deafening and the room is getting dark. I just want her to stop talking. ‘Please, just stop talking.’ I can’t deal with this. I look past Leila at a spot on the wall. ‘Push them mother fuckers down, don’t let those feelings win. Check out, Sarah! Just smile, if I hide the pain, she will stop talking. She’ll think I’m fine and stop talking. Just check out.’ I keep repeating all of this in my head.

Leila takes me by the shoulders making me look at her. “I understand that what you went through was horrific, and what your Dad has done and continues to do to you is even worse. He needs to have the holy fuck knocked out of him for that.  What happened wasn’t your fault and in no way is it acceptable that he blames you and has let you carry that guilt around your entire life. That’s more fucked up than anything I can imagine. You have to change this. Start by getting out of that house! There’s nothing keeping you there anymore. You have to get away from that stupid fuck. It’s like you’re trying to self-destruct by staying. You’ve let the past consume you. You have to find some kind of peace with the past, with yourself.”

The tears won’t stop streaming down my face, Leila wraps her arms around me. “I’m sorry. Sweetie, I know this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, or the time you wanted to hear it.  But you needed to. You need to start moving forward.”

I shake my head agreeing with her. In a minuscule voice, I say, “I know, you’re right. But...” I have to pause to try and regain some kind of composure. The tears have turned into sobs, and my body is shaking like I’m having some kind of seizure.  Taking a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs, I put my arms out like I’m balancing high on a tightrope with no safety net below me. Feeling like at any moment I’m going to fall to my death.

Leila rubs her hands up and down my arms like she is trying to warm up a child. Then she wraps her arms back around me rocking side to side while patting my back. “Shh, it’s going to be alright. Shh, shh, shh, it’s all going to be alright. I promise, Sweetie.”

I try to pull back. I learned how to deal with the whispers and the snide comments better than I can genuine heartfelt emotions. As Leila loosens her bear hug hold on me, she says, “Now, let’s talk about this ‘old lady and her bread pudding shit.' Really Sarah, bread pudding? Who eats that crap? Have you ever even tried it?” Leila scrunches up her face like she has just experienced the most disgusting thing in her life. “Damn girl, that shit is just nasty!”

The look on her face is the funniest damn thing I have seen in a while. I start laughing so hard that I end up shooting snot out my nose and at the same time letting out a loud snort. Which makes me laugh even harder.

Leila howls at the top of her lungs. “Holy shit, did you just blow snot out your nose?”

Slapping my hand over my nose to avoid doing it again. I shake my head yes. Leila grabs the side of the sink to help keep her balance as she howls even louder.

Oscar sticks his head out from around the corner. In a deep, gruff voice, he asks, “What in the hell is wrong with you two? You sound like a couple of coked out hens!”

We both instantaneously stand at attention as if we were in the military. Trying to maintain some kind of control but it only makes it worse.

As he walks away, we hear Oscar mumble, “Fucking coked out hens.”

Once we’ve regained composure, Leila looks at me. “Girl, let’s get the hell out of here and get something to eat. You know something that Oscar hasn’t fixed. Something edible. I’ll give you a ride home or back here if you’d like.”

Grabbing my coat from the hook, I tell her, “Ya don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s go.”

When we step outside my heart stops mid-beat, and my feet instantly freeze to the ground. Right there in front of me, sitting in the exact spot that I was earlier is my tattooed mystery God. Leila’s too busy digging through her purse to see him and runs right into me knocking me forward. He jumps out of his chair just in time to catch me before I fall flat on my face. “Whoa, Kitten. I’ve got you.”

My hands cling to his shirt trying to catch myself. His strong arms instantly wrap around me pulling me against him. My cheek lands against is chest, and holy hell, it’s like he’s made of fucking iron. Oh, Holy Mother of God there’s that magnificent smell again. I don’t know how long I have my face buried in his chest, but it must be longer than would seem normal. Leila clears her throat, and my mystery man’s chest starts to bounce giving me the indication that he’s laughing.

I step away, attempting to act all cool and collected. “Wow, thank you! That could have been embarrassing.”

“Oh, shucks.” Leila slaps her hand to her leg making a loud pop. “I think I left the oven on. Sarah, I’m just going to back in and check. You don’t mind waiting, do you?” She turns around and heads back in.

Shrugging my shoulders, I tell him, “Now that was embarrassing. I can see why she got kicked out of acting school.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. “Yeah, pretty bad!”   

“So, what are you doing sitting out here all by your lonesome?”

A slight look of embarrassment crosses his face. “I was waiting for you.”

Instantly that ‘zing’ shoots through my entire body again, like the first time I saw him. From the tips of my toes to the end of each hair on top of my head. I know if I looked in the mirror my hair would be standing on end. Like one of those glass globes with the streams of light reaching out. It’s an exhilarating, mind-blowing wave of energy and emotions. There’s desire, tenderness, excitement, and safety. A combination of every good feeling I have ever had and more wrapped into one. A feeling that with him I would be complete, like I belonged.

I try to hide my excitement. Chances are I’m failing miserably. “Waiting for me, huh? Why would that be?”

“I can’t seem to get you out of my head. I was hoping we could go somewhere and hang out. Maybe grab a bite to eat or a cup of coffee? Ya know, someplace we can talk without having to yell.”

I am just about to say yes. I seriously would love nothing more than to go with him. Then I hear Leila’s creeper words sounding off loud in my head. In all honesty, I have no idea who he is. I don’t think he looks at all creepy. Trust me, I have seen a wide verity of people that would fit that description. My mind scrambles trying to come up with a reasonable solution to my little dilemma. A solution that will avoid having Leila kick my ass.

“Well, we could go back inside. We have coffee,” I suggest, giving him an excited smile. Realizing that we don’t even know each other names, I step over right in front of him, holding out my hand to shake his. “Hi, I’m Sarah Crawford.”

Taking my hand in his hand, he lifts it up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the back, sending tremors through my body. My mind spins like I’m on a tilt a whirl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sarah Crawford. I’m Justin Troma.”

His movements are swift and very gentlemen like as he opens the door and gestures for me to go in. I give him a small curtsy gesture, and he laughs, putting his hand at the small of my back, following close behind.

“Mr. Troma, go ahead and grab yourself a seat and tell me your poison.”

He scoots the bar stool out, making a loud screech as it moves across the floor. Then I hear him say, “You are.”

I look back over my shoulder, and there’s that cute, sexy as fucking hell smirk again. That look could turn even a heart of stone to a pile of mushy goo.

I don’t want him to think that he is going to get the upper hand with me, so before I walk away, I shoot him a seductive wink. “Yep, that’s me. Poison. I’m deadly, that’s for damn sure.”

“Ahh, I see. Ya know, that’s the first thing that popped into my mind the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Really! You thought that I was deadly? What like black widow type or ninja type deadly?”

“Nope, that this beautiful woman might just be the death of me type.”

OK, he has to be screwing with me. I’m waiting for a camera crew to pop out and scream “You’re on the next episode of Deceived.”

 Maybe now would be a good time for me to change the direction of this conversation. There are only are two things that could happen if I don’t. One, I end up looking like a giant ass because he’s just dicking around with me. Two, I end up ripping his clothes off and fucking his brains out right here on the counter.

“So, coffee work for you?”

“Yep, coffee sounds great.”

“So, Mr.” He cuts me off before another word comes out of my mouth.

“Kitten, if you call me Mr. Troma one more time, I’m going to have to put you over my knee.”

The mere thought of that sends me into a wet, throbbing frenzy.  Holy shit, if he only knew all the things I would love to do to him right now, he would either run or fall in love.

“Mr. Troma was my father. Call me Justin.”

My mind immediately focuses on the word ‘was.' I wonder what the word ‘was’ means to him. Divorce, never around father, or does it mean the same as my definition of was? I don’t want to ruin whatever this is that we’re doing, so I bury my curiosity.

Holding my hands up, I say, “Sorry, Justin. So, tell me about yourself.” Handing him a cup of coffee, I’m not sure what I should do now, so I stay standing on the other side of the counter.

Pulling the stool out next to him, he says, “Why don’t you come on over here and have a seat, and I will tell you anything you want to know.”

“Okay!” I know that came out like a pubescent teen. Now all I need to do is twirl my hair around my finger and giggle. Fuck, I really don’t give a shit. If he wants me next to him, that’s where I am going to be.

Placing a hand on my knee, he gently turns me so that we face each other. “So, what do you want to know?”

Looking at his beautiful face, I lose all concentration. “Umm…umm.” Pulling my head out of my ass, I start with the easy stuff. “Well, let’s start with where you’re from. How old are you? What do you do? Is there a Mrs. Justin? Are you a creeper? What do you do for fun?”

He starts to laugh. “Kitten, if there were a Mrs. Justin I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. If I were a creeper, you’d never see my coming.”

Oh, my God! A gorgeous man who has integrity. I haven’t seen this in a while. Not to mention he has a bit of a dark side.

“That was quite a list of questions. Let’s see here, covered the married and creeper question which I’m guessing are the most important on your list. So that leaves me with, I’m twenty-seven. I was born and raised right here in the great mile high city of Denver. I have my own martial arts academy, well I’m a partner I should say. I teach classes and do some personal training. It’s a part of who I am, so I find it very fun. Oh yeah, I do like to step inside the octagon every so often. Now that’s a fucking rush! I haven’t done much of that since I blew out my knee though.”

“Wait, you mean fighting? For fun? Getting into a cage and having the shit kicked out of you.” I repeat, “For fun.” Except for this time, I say it very slowly to be sure that he catches on that I’m insinuating that I think he’s fucking nuts.

With a smug look on his face, he says, “Yep, for fun. But, I also did a little shit kicking too. Have you ever been to a fight?”

“Nope, can’t say that I have. I’ve seen a few bar brawls, and frat boys duke it out. Those can be kind of entertaining.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing. It’s a rush like you’ve never experienced. I’ll have to take you to one someday.”

My curiosity about this staggering, business owner, personal trainer, cage fighting man is enormous. I envision him coming out of a steel cage after a huge victory. Sweat's rolling down his bare muscular chest, as he’s sweeping me up in his arms, and crushing my body to his. Then passionately, he’s kissing me in front of everyone. All the women are green with envy that I call this incredible man mine.

“What about the training? What’s that all about? Are you some kind of ninja? That would be super cool!” I do my best impression of a karate chop with my hands, knocking my coffee cup across the counter spilling the hot contents all over the counter.

“Shit!”

Justin jumps up and lets out a loud, unrestrained laugh. “No, Kitten. I’m not a ninja. But when it comes to dodging hot coffee I could be.”

As we clean up my mess, he tells me more about his work as a trainer. He used to compete but was injured in a match that took out his knee. He tells me that he thought his days of practicing the arts were over.

I can hear sadness in the tone of his voice. “It was my everything. It kept me from life that could have consumed me all to easily.”

His entire demeanor changes when he starts talking about training students. He speaks with such conviction. There’s profound passion about everything he does running through this man.

Once we get my mess cleaned up, Justin refills our cups, and I grab two chocolate éclairs from the cooler. Justin stands up, reaching across the counter, grabbing two forks. His shirt comes untucked from his jeans showing a part of his muscular back. From what I can see it is also inked. Not to even mention his incredibly perfect ass.

Sitting back down, he ruins my perfect view.  “Alright, now that we’ve covered Justin one ‘o one, I want to know more about this fiery redhead sitting here with me.”

What? Fuck! I do not want to talk about me. What the fuck am I supposed to say? ‘Hi, I’m a fucking giant mess.’ Well, that would just about sum it up. It’s said that honesty is the best policy. No, I think I’ll just keep it as simple as possible, and maybe I can once again change the subject.

I fidget with my coffee cup. “Me, oh there’s not much. I work, sleep, eat. You know just your typical stuff.”

He takes the cup from my hands. “Kitten, you’re not getting off that easy. Tell me about you. What do you like to do besides break hearts?”

I have to chuckle. “Boy, you’ve got some really good ones tonight. Yep, ‘Heartbreaker’ that’s me. Did you know there’s even a song titled after me? It’s quite catchy. In fact, I think it might even still be on the jukebox. I’ll go check.” I stand up, and Justin puts his hands around my waist pulling me closer to him.

“Nope, you’re going to sit down and tell me about yourself.”

Letting out a long sigh, I take my seat. I’m not sure if I’m more irritated about having to talk about myself or having to leave his arms when I take my seat. I would be elated to stay right here in his arms. “Fine, what do you want to know?”

Rubbing the scruff on his chin like he’s thinking real hard, he says, “Hmm, what do I want to know? Let’s start with how old are you. Where are you from? I already know what you do. How about what do you like to do for fun? Is there a Mr. Sarah? Are you a creeper? And do you drink anything besides coffee?”

 

He emphasized the word you every time he said it. He turns so that he’s looking right at me. Like he’s really interested in what I’m about to say. I feel a little on the spot, but it’s also a little refreshing to have someone interested in what I have to say. Not just what I have between my legs, or what I can do for them.

Leaning forward, I tell him, “Well, I’m twenty-one. I too was born and raised here in Denver. I want to leave someday, but right now I just can’t seem to do it. There are just too many ties that I’m not ready to break.”

I stop think about the order in which he asked his questions. Even though they were pretty much the same as mine, which I thought was funny.

“Fun, what do I like to do for fun? I love to read. It’s a wonderful escape from reality. No, there’s no Mr. Sarah. Yes, I am a creeper. Finally, no, I really don’t drink much other than coffee. It is a food group, ya know? No matter what those crazy ass people who haven’t experienced its love say.”  

Just then Leila and Oscar come out of the back room. Leila’s digging through her purse and pulls her keys out. “Kid’s as much as we hate to we’re going to take off. We just can’t hang out here all night with you.”

Tossing the keys to me, she says to us, “Stay as long as you’d like. Just make sure to turn off the lights and lock up behind you.” Before she walks out the door, she blows me a kiss. “Make good choices.”

Justin and I sit and talk for hours about anything, everything, and nothing. It’s refreshing, liberating, and straight up fun. I haven’t felt this free from all the crap in my life in so long. The feeling is so foreign to me, but I love it! I feel like a different person. Well, like an old me. An old me that I was certain was dead. But on a totally different level, a greater more powerful level. It is mind blowing that this amazing person who I just met and barely know could be my savior. Could he really be able to pull me out of this hell hole that is my world?

I try to hide the yawn that has been threating to come out for a while. I see Justin look at his watch. “Shit, Kitten. It’s three. I had better get you home.”

I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here in this moment. This fantastic, unbelievable, revitalizing moment.

Lifting my eyebrows, I agree with him sarcastically, “Yeah, I suppose I should get some sleep. I’ve got a big day of doing nothing tomorrow.”

Justin takes his coat from the back of the chair. “Well, then we’d better get going. I wouldn’t want you to be late for that.” He winks.

We walk together over to the door and I hold it open for him as he steps outside. He turns around and gets a bewildered look on his face. “Aren’t you coming?”

“No, I think I’ll just crash here tonight. Or this morning, however you want to look at it.”

The bewildered look doesn’t leave his face. “What are you going to do snuggle into a booth and use a table cloth for a blanket?”

“Yeah, smartass. That’s what I’m going to do. No! There’s a loft upstairs with everything I need. There’s a futon, TV, and shower. Pretty much an excellent place to crash every time I don’t want to go home. Leila lets me stay there whenever I want. Since the diner’s closed tomorrow, why not?”

Justin leans in and gives me a kiss on the forehead. “You going to be alright here by yourself?”

“Oh, yeah. I do it all the time.”

Hesitant, he says, “Alright, just be sure to lock up right behind me.”

Wow. This is so freaking adorable. He's protective of me. Or he’s just seen what’s out wondering around here at three in the morning and doesn’t want to be known as the last person who saw the missing girl.

As I’m preparing to barricade myself in, he turns around and puts his foot in the doorway, preventing me from shutting it. Raising my eyes to meet his, he appears unsure about what he’s going to say. “I hope this isn’t too forward.” He runs his hand along the edge of the door. “I’m having a great time with you. I just don’t want it to end. Do you think Leila would lacerate my manhood if I stayed with you? I mean, that’s if you want me to.”

Holy fucking shit balls! Did he really just say that? He doesn’t want time with me to end. Keeping as calm as I possibly can, I turn my head with a questioning look on my face. “You’re not a creeper, right? I have no reason to be in fear for my life?”

He draws a cross with his finger across his heart. “Cross my heart.”

I know that my face is red, and I’m acting way too excited, but I really don’t give a fuck. This person for some unknown reason makes me feel…alive. There’s this energy that flows through my veins when he’s near me. He’s a drug that after only one taste, I’m utterly and totally addicted to him. I must have him to survive. The craving for him is stronger than my urge to self-destruct.

“I’d like that. However, I can’t make any promises on what Leila will or will not lacerate. I try and keep my nose out of that line of her business.”

With a sly look on his face, he says, “I’ll take my chances.”

I lead us up a narrow staircase that’s right behind the double doors of the restaurant. His steps are in unison with mine as he rests his hands on my hips. The room is small but big enough to serve its purpose. I open the closet, taking out a bag and toss in onto the futon. It has all the necessities a surprise overnight stay would need. However, it’s never a surprise that I end up here. I like to stay a night or two until I can pretend that everything at home will be alright. Or the fear of being away too long overwhelms me. I have found out that the longer I stay away from home, the worse the backlash is, much worse. Which I don’t understand at all. My father can’t stand the sight of me, yet if I’m not there, he’s even more brutal when I return. It’s like he can unleash all the evil demons that consume him upon me, and I’m a sponge meant to absorb it all. Maybe it’s because if I’m there, then he can blame me instead of himself for what he’s done to his… our lives.

Regardless, tonight, it’s just Justin and me. No physical or mental outside interference allowed, not tonight. I’m going to enjoy this for as long as it might possibly last.

I take my things into the bathroom, change into my pajamas, pull my hair back, and brush my teeth. When I get back to the living area, Justin’s standing here in nothing but his boxers. Muscles ripple through his back as he pulls out the futon. The tattoos that sleeve his arms stretch across his wide shoulders and work their way down his sides to his narrow waist. His legs are lean and just as muscular as his back. And that ass! Holy fucking bat shit. That is by far the most perfect ass I have ever laid eyes on.

The throbbing between my legs refuses to be ignored, and my nipples tighten as I stand here watching him. I shift my legs back and forth trying to calm the urge to go over and shove him onto the bed and quench the undeniable desire I have for him right now. He turns around, and I know that I’m busted, but once again I don’t care. He lets out a low toned laugh as he walks toward me.

He kisses me on the top of the head. “Maybe I’m the one who should be in fear for my life.”

He goes into the bathroom without latching the door. It slowly creaks open just enough that I can see movement, but I can’t tell what he’s doing for sure. I hear him start to pee. Well, now that’s something that when I got up this morning I never thought I would be hearing.

I call out, “Ya know, you can shut the door. I can’t see anything anyway. Not that I haven’t tried.” The last part I say more under my breath.

The toilet flushes then the water in the sink turns on. A few minutes later, Justin comes out.

In a sarcastic voice, I say, “A hand washer, now that is a very good quality.”

The futon creaks and cracks at the impact of Justin’s weight as he leaps onto the bed. He reaches over and rubs his hands that happen to be very wet all over my face. “Oh, I wasn’t washing my hands I was using your toothbrush, and then I peed. I must have gotten a little on my hands.”

“Eww, you sick bastard! Did you actually use my toothbrush?”

“What? Are you really more worried about me using your toothbrush than me peeing on my hands and wiping it on you?”

“Well, when you put it that way. Both are pretty sick, but if you were the type of person that would really wipe pee on someone I’d say there are more serious, deep-seated issues.” I grin.

We are laying here with my back against his chest in silence. I can feel his chest rise and fall as his warm breath caresses my neck. He moves his hand and accidently brushes against my hard nipple. I begin to fantasize about him taking each one into his mouth. I feel him growing hard against my backside. I try to roll over to face him, and his grip around my waist tightens. I want him. If just being around him can make me feel this alive I can’t even begin to imagine what having that kind of connection with him would feel like. I start to squirm, trying to loosen his grip. His grip is that of a constrictor. The more I move, the tighter his hold becomes.

With frustration laced in my voice, I ask, “Why won’t you let me face you?”

“Because.”

“Because isn’t an answer. Do you not want me?”

He presses his rock hard cock into my back, making me take in a quick sharp breath. I feel his hands clench into fists. “Oh, I want you. That’s definitely not the case. But I just want to lay here with you. I want to breathe you in. I want to do this right. I want us, to be right. You deserve right. I feel…” He pauses as if he’s battling something within his own head. “I feel more of everything that is good when I’m with you. You wake up senses that I didn’t know were possible. I want what we are and what we might be, to be… more.”

Holy shit! Is this guy for real? Most guys that would find themselves in this situation would already have fucked my brains out and be gone or passed out. Is it possible that this guy is legit? How does one argue with that? My dripping wet pussy is doing its best to come up with something, anything. I think it’s going to be an epic fail.

“Wow, are you sure your last name isn’t Perfect, not Troma?”

“Oh, I don’t think I would go that far, Kitten. I’m not perfect by any means.”

Lacing my fingers between his, I tell him, “You seem pretty much perfect to me.”