Cocky Bastard
Page 68
What was I doing? Aubrey was happy. At least she was before I selfishly showed up back in her life. I wanted her to want me back so badly, I questioned if I was seeing something that was no longer there. The hour drive had me flip flopping back and forth between being certain she only needed time to learn to trust me again and being certain I was doing the wrong thing for sticking around.
Just as I was about to get out of the car, the sky opened up. Rain started to teem, bouncing off the hot California blacktop making it steam like dry ice. It was eerie looking, really. Lonely, almost. Maybe it was a sign.
I jogged into the rest stop. Unable to beat the raindrops, my clothes were drenched as I headed to the bathroom. I splashed some water on my face, looked in the mirror and tried to give myself a pep talk. I couldn’t even convince my own sorry ass that everything was going to turn out fine, yet I was trying to convince Aubrey. My phone buzzed in my pocket and, for a second, I let my hopes rise. It was a text from my carrier telling me I’d nearly reached the end of my data plan usage allotment. Now, there’s a damn sign. I was running out of time.
Grumbling to myself, I walked out of the restroom and decided to grab a bite before filling the tank and getting back on the road. I laughed when I saw my choices: Starbucks or Popeyes Chicken. It was ironic, really. Perhaps, I’d stop in the small gift shop and look for an Obama bobblehead on my way out. I was internally berating myself for being such a pathetic fuckwad.
Anxious to get the hell out of there, I ordered some chicken and reached into my pocket for my billfold to pay. Something tumbled from my pocket and clanked loudly on the floor. It was the key Aubrey had given me. I picked it up and closed it into the palm of my hand as I paid for my meal.
It hit me then. Here I was looking for a stupid sign, when all along I’d had the key. Dick rang the bell. They’d been together seven months, and she hadn’t given the princess fucker a key. I’m not the other guy. She just hadn’t admitted it to herself yet. Now that was something I could give her a hand in doing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Adele was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed. “So, you’re going back tonight?”
I nodded. “I don’t have time to waste. Every second that I’m here, he’s getting more of an upper hand. I just came back to throw my bike into the back of my truck.” I wriggled my forehead. “She wants me to take her for a ride.”
“That’s great and all. I just hope she’s not taking you for a ride.”
“That’s kind of what I’ve been angling for, Sis.”
“You know what I mean! Stringing you along. The fact that she has a boyfriend who seems like a good guy makes this complicated. She’s not going to want to hurt him.”
“I’m aware this isn’t ideal. But here is the key to what I needed to know.” I stuck my hand in my back pocket, pulling out Aubrey’s house key. “Right here.”
“That’s a literal key.”
“Exactly.” I winked. “He doesn’t have one. She gave one to me. Granted, it was to be able to use the toilet at my leisure while I’m doing her lawn. But what does the fact that he doesn’t have one say?”
“That he’s not cutting her grass.” She laughed. “Believe me, I want to think that you’re going to get the girl in the end, but the alternative makes me nervous. That’s all. What happens then?”
“Then, your dear old brokenhearted brother camps out on his couch eating a shitload of Tim Tams all day in his pajamas.”
She threw a pillow at me. “That’s what scares me.”
“You’re worried about me.” I threw the pillow back. “That’s cute but unnecessary.”
“I really hope you’re right.”
Back in Temecula, with my bike gassed up, I was anxious to see her. It was Friday afternoon, so she was still in work. Unable to contain my excitement, I sent her a text.
Chance: In the mood to straddle me?
Aubrey: Excuse me?
Chance: Get your mind out of the gutter, dirty girl. I brought the Harley back from Hermosa Beach. Care to live out your little biker fantasy with me?
Aubrey: You want to take me out?
Chance: Among other things, yes.
Aubrey: When?
Chance: This weekend sometime if you’re free. I was thinking we could take a little road trip.
Aubrey: The last time I did that with you, it got me into trouble.
Chance: Come on, Princess. I’ll let you call me Charlie Hummer.
Aubrey: Hunnam. LOL. Charlie Hunnam!
Chance: I like Hummer better.
Just as I was about to get out of the car, the sky opened up. Rain started to teem, bouncing off the hot California blacktop making it steam like dry ice. It was eerie looking, really. Lonely, almost. Maybe it was a sign.
I jogged into the rest stop. Unable to beat the raindrops, my clothes were drenched as I headed to the bathroom. I splashed some water on my face, looked in the mirror and tried to give myself a pep talk. I couldn’t even convince my own sorry ass that everything was going to turn out fine, yet I was trying to convince Aubrey. My phone buzzed in my pocket and, for a second, I let my hopes rise. It was a text from my carrier telling me I’d nearly reached the end of my data plan usage allotment. Now, there’s a damn sign. I was running out of time.
Grumbling to myself, I walked out of the restroom and decided to grab a bite before filling the tank and getting back on the road. I laughed when I saw my choices: Starbucks or Popeyes Chicken. It was ironic, really. Perhaps, I’d stop in the small gift shop and look for an Obama bobblehead on my way out. I was internally berating myself for being such a pathetic fuckwad.
Anxious to get the hell out of there, I ordered some chicken and reached into my pocket for my billfold to pay. Something tumbled from my pocket and clanked loudly on the floor. It was the key Aubrey had given me. I picked it up and closed it into the palm of my hand as I paid for my meal.
It hit me then. Here I was looking for a stupid sign, when all along I’d had the key. Dick rang the bell. They’d been together seven months, and she hadn’t given the princess fucker a key. I’m not the other guy. She just hadn’t admitted it to herself yet. Now that was something I could give her a hand in doing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Adele was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed. “So, you’re going back tonight?”
I nodded. “I don’t have time to waste. Every second that I’m here, he’s getting more of an upper hand. I just came back to throw my bike into the back of my truck.” I wriggled my forehead. “She wants me to take her for a ride.”
“That’s great and all. I just hope she’s not taking you for a ride.”
“That’s kind of what I’ve been angling for, Sis.”
“You know what I mean! Stringing you along. The fact that she has a boyfriend who seems like a good guy makes this complicated. She’s not going to want to hurt him.”
“I’m aware this isn’t ideal. But here is the key to what I needed to know.” I stuck my hand in my back pocket, pulling out Aubrey’s house key. “Right here.”
“That’s a literal key.”
“Exactly.” I winked. “He doesn’t have one. She gave one to me. Granted, it was to be able to use the toilet at my leisure while I’m doing her lawn. But what does the fact that he doesn’t have one say?”
“That he’s not cutting her grass.” She laughed. “Believe me, I want to think that you’re going to get the girl in the end, but the alternative makes me nervous. That’s all. What happens then?”
“Then, your dear old brokenhearted brother camps out on his couch eating a shitload of Tim Tams all day in his pajamas.”
She threw a pillow at me. “That’s what scares me.”
“You’re worried about me.” I threw the pillow back. “That’s cute but unnecessary.”
“I really hope you’re right.”
Back in Temecula, with my bike gassed up, I was anxious to see her. It was Friday afternoon, so she was still in work. Unable to contain my excitement, I sent her a text.
Chance: In the mood to straddle me?
Aubrey: Excuse me?
Chance: Get your mind out of the gutter, dirty girl. I brought the Harley back from Hermosa Beach. Care to live out your little biker fantasy with me?
Aubrey: You want to take me out?
Chance: Among other things, yes.
Aubrey: When?
Chance: This weekend sometime if you’re free. I was thinking we could take a little road trip.
Aubrey: The last time I did that with you, it got me into trouble.
Chance: Come on, Princess. I’ll let you call me Charlie Hummer.
Aubrey: Hunnam. LOL. Charlie Hunnam!
Chance: I like Hummer better.
