Why couldn’t he answer any questions in the office, in broad daylight and with a respectable distance between them? You don’t need linen tablecloths and three types of forks if you handled your business the first time.
I’ve dined with women after work. The only negotiations that came from that were if there were any preexisting conditions to consider and how many toys they wanted to play with before the main event.
Men like Kieran, who fish for pussy at their job, are walking red flags. Creating a business with a life partner is one thing, but asking for a date before an interview is over?
Fuck that.
“Just tell her that she has entrées at home,” I say to myself from Miriam’s front porch. “It’s cold, and she doesn’t see well in the dark to be driving.”
Want him to come here?
“To hell with all of that.”
Aged wood on the other side of better days groans under my Timbs. The porch light is on for Miriam and her neighbors to witness me pacing the small area. They probably think I’m a robber who’s contemplating a life sentence in an all-black sweatsuit. I came straight from practice, unable to answer why I felt the need to drive over instead of letting Miriam enjoy her fake work dinner in peace.
I can’tlether do anything. I’m not trying to control her life. I’m just looking out as a friend who’s thought with his dick more than I care to admit.
Oh hey, you’re home. Small world.
Where did you expect her to be? In the sewer?
I was just in the neighborhood—
The practice field is twenty minutes in the other direction.
Did you get that call about extended warranties?
I scrub a hand over my face and stifle a groan. There is no reason to be over here before her date.
Why don’t you tell her the truth?
That the idea of her going out with this guy, or any other, itches my ass to no end? It shouldn’t, we’re friends, but it does. I have no—
I dive over the banister at the laughter behind the front door. The plastic trash can and recycling bins soften my landing, but they bang against the house. A dog barks a few doors down. I freeze, which isn’t hard to do in this weather, and shut my eyes.
The door opens.
I right the bins and tippy-toe run to the back of Miriam’s house. The back door swings open, and before I have time to react, a dark figure leaps off the steps and tackles me to the ground. I land on a pile of snow with a thud.
“What the—” My words are muffled by a lotioned hand covering my mouth. I push it away. “Please tell me that’s a gun digging into my hip.”
“With bullets just for your stupid ass, sneaking around my sister’s house. What are you doing?”
It’s hard to answer Marcela when the weight of her breasts is smothering my windpipe.
When I tap her hip, she lifts off of me and all but drags me to my feet by my hoodie. Unlike her sister, Marcela and I are similar in height. She’s got a Coke bottle figure with extra curves. Not that I’m looking at her like that. It’s just hard to miss thighs like hers and what I assume are E cups jutting out like a shield she’s not afraid to wield.
The only ass I care about is Miriam’s. To keep it in the house and away from potentially dangerous future colleagues.
“Hey, hey!” I back up at her shoves. Each one lands in the center of my chest. “Ow, stop!” I rub what will surely be a bruise tomorrow. “I had a hard practice—hey!” I turn my shoulder to dodge another direct blow.
Marcela’s hands anchor on her hips. “Are you in the habit of snooping around Miriam’s house?” If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume she came to fight. She’s wearing sweats, a tee, and…are those combat boots?
“What?”
“Oh, you can’t hear now?” The inflection in her voice rises. “You’re about to be acquainted with some real Buffalosteelin a minute.” She reaches for her waistband.
I drop to my knees and raise my hands. Call me what you want. I’m not leaving here with bullet holes or in a body bag.
