“But I always make up for it.” His shit-eating grin is plastered all over his face, even when half of it is disguised.
“You and your cock can forget about me.”
“You and your pussy can forget about me.”
“Forgotten.”
“If you ever change your mind, I’ll take one for the team.”
I cock my head to the side, “What team is that?”
“The broken-hearted.” His features turn serious and his eyes tantalize me for a split second.
“That’s kind of honest.”
“I’m an honest man.” He pushes a stone with the sole of his boot. “Not your dream guy.”
“Who is my dream guy?”
He continues to slide a few stones under his boot. “I don’t know, probably, Mr. Perfect.”
“Mmm, I’m not looking for a dream, I’m looking for something I can grasp. Someone I can hold, talk to, and get to know. I want someone real. Not a fairytale. Not a knight on a horse. I want a motherfucker on a bike. That will take me on the spot if he has to prove a point or lift my ass to get a better view or commend me to slide on his cock while he chokes me.”
His eyes bore into mine, “Is that so?”
“Didn’t you read it in some novel?” I reply, leaving my lips half parted as I extract the cigarette I tucked under the band of my bra and he immediately pulls his lighter from his front pocket and lights it for me.
His hands extend to his helmet slowly, taking all the time in the world as he peels the shield from his face. We’re not surrounded by many people and no one pays attention so he must feel comfortable.
The glimmer in his green eyes turns yellow as he looksdown for a second to fix his shoelaces. His hair spills to his face, all shaggy and disoriented and so fucking hot. He’s so freaking handsome, it’s ridiculous.
I’m tingling.
My ex was the type of man to always agree with the other person, putting himself in good grace with everyone else while they put me in the wrong, coloring me stupid.
Not Meadow.
Why the fuck did I ever date my ex? What was I thinking? Wasting three years of my life when I could’ve done all of this instead. Dating guys who like the same things I do and share the same passion. Getting to know people who sincerely care.
As a stubborn girl, I think I know why I stayed and why I let him have a hold on me. I guess, I didn’t want to fail in our relationship. I am not a quitter and I fought for that relationship for a long time but I did it alone.
When Meadow rises back up he swiftly kisses my nose, “I’ll come by your room later. I have something for you.”
What was that for?I slowly blink and crinkle my nose, suffering a brief memory loss because it was kind of adorable.
“Weirdo,” I shove at his shoulder at the same time he snatches the cigarette from between my fingers, grazing our hands in the process before he tucks it between his lips and puffs the smoke.
Tugging the helmet back on, he gives the cigarette back to me and takes a few steps back.
He thinks it makes him invisible, on the contrary, the first person I scout in a crowd full of people ishim. Almost like amagnet, I’m pulled to him by a force I don’t recognize.
That’s my cue to leave.
“I’m not gonna be drunk again,” I promise as I start walking toward the motel.
“You better.” He flips me the third finger on propose. “Call me if you need anything.”
I salute him as he does, two fingers over the head. I’m pretty sure it becomes our secret handshake or something.
