“I’m glad you asked,” he said in a jokey tone, breaking the tension. At the same time, his head did this adorable little tilt, causing my own to feel a tad dizzy. “Because I’m currently looking foraride.”
I gaped at him. Seriously? As if I were going to drive some tousle-haired transient through the desert! It didn’t matter how hot he was; it wasn’t worth the risk. “Uh,no.”
The grease-stained guy seemed taken aback by my uncompromising reply. Not seeing a need to drag it out any further, I dropped my eyes back down to my book, hoping he’d leave after realizing I had nothing to offer him. But, to my surprise, he just stoodthere.
“I have some money. I canpayyou.”
“I don’t pick up hitchhikers,” I said, withoutlookingup.
“And normally I’d applaud you for that, but I’m in a huge bind here. Plus, technically, I’m not ahitchhikeryet.”
He had a point, although I still wasn’t stupid enough to give him a ride. Putting my book down, I gave him my full attention. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to pickyouup.”
“Yeah, some creep with abloodyax.”
I gave him a full body scan. “You look like a big, sturdy guy. My bet is you just mightsurvive.”
“Surviving has never been my strong suit.” I had no idea what he meant by that statement, but he seemed to find it amusing, so I gave him a courtesy smile inresponse.
He must have taken my momentary lapse in judgment as a sign to up the begging. “Come on, please help me out. I’m going to miss the entire first day of the festival ifIdie.”
This dude really wasn’t very committed to his survival. “I fail to see how that’s myproblem.”
Again he seemed caught off-guard by my aloofness; obviously he knew nothing of my resting bitch facecondition.
“It’s not your problem, per se. I was just appealing to yourhumanity.”
Oh, geez. Humanity? He was digging deep. “How do you knowI’mnot an axmurderer?”
“You’re reading a romancenovel.”
I glanced down at my book with a half naked guy on the cover. Embarrassed, I turneditover.
“So can you help me out?” There was a teasing tone to his voice, and when I met his eye, he grinned in the sweet and affecting way that had unexpectedly started up my very rusty engines. Lord. He was laying on the charm. I wasn’t sure if I’d survive this stage of the assault. This was precisely the type of guy I’d sworn off years ago for my own safety. They were just too easy to fall for. I needed to nip this in the budimmediately.
“You seem like a good guy,” I said, “and I’d like to help you out, but I justcan’t.”
He stared at me a moment, obvious disappointment oozing from his soiled pores. “Okay, I get it. Sorry forbotheringyou.”
I nodded as he turned and walked away without another word. My barely revived libido puttered to an uninspired halt. There went the first flicker of carnal excitement I’d had in a very long while. Suddenly I missedmycat.
Even though the ass mechanic was no longer my problem, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him over the pages of my now totally laughable book. This author knew nothing of white-hot chemistry. I seriously doubted she’d ever had a lust-worthy hobo turn her insides into a quaking pit of searing lava. Slamming the book closed in disgust, I questioned my need for control at all times. It wasn’t just my self-imposed marriage ban that kept a stranglehold on my emotions; it was also my asinine obsession with perfection and safety. Everything in my world, right down to the tiniest piece of dust, posed a threat to my orderly life, and I found myself becoming exhausted trying to stay ahead of it all. This wasn’t the first time I’d felt the desire to step out of my comfort zone, but it certainly was thestrongest.
Of course, denying a strange man a trip through the desert was the smart and sane choice, and I stood by the decision. My beef was with the long-term effects of my safety-first approach. Was it taking away my ability to live a normal life, or was it truly preventing me from dying at the hands of a hot, greasy drifter? I mean, this guy was a complete stranger. Just because he was highly attractive did not automatically disqualify him from psychopathic tendencies. For all I knew, he punched babies and pulled the wings off butterflies in his spare time. No, erring on the side of caution was always the right choice. What good was regret if Iwasdead?
Shrugging off the indecision, I kept my eyes firmly on the mechanic as he went table to table using that same charm he’d displayed for me on the other diners in hopes of getting a lift to the concert. And one after another, they turned him down. What a bunch of assholes. Just because I refused to place myself in peril, didn’t mean they shouldn’t. Selfish, I know. I was like one of those over-zealous mothers who took the risk of not vaccinating her own kid in hopes that all the moms in a hundred mile radius of herwould.
My resolve fading fast, I was now seriously reconsidering my decision. If no one else offered him a ride, what would he do? I’d be lying if I said I secretly hoped he wouldn’t get one. I imagined myself swooping in, saving the day and enjoying sloppy sex with the grease-splatteredrefugee.
The cute guy’s whoop of joy shattered my dirty daydream, and I smiled at his good fortune. Just because I couldn’t be his hero didn’t mean he shouldn’t be saved. I watched with interest as he bounded out to his broken down truck. To say it was a piece of junk would be an insult to rubbish the world over. This was the type of vehicle you prayed didn’t rear-end you because you just knew the person driving it had noinsurance.
My parking lot obsession pulled both a backpack and a rolled up mat out of the cab and then spent the next couple of minutes trying to shut the passenger side door. No matter what he did, the door kept popping back open, so he took to kicking it as a last resort. I giggled at the show he was putting on. With physical force clearly not working in his favor, the mechanic switched his brain to the ‘on’ position and used it to find a piece of rope to tie the door to the frame. I shook my head, grinning. He’d be lucky if someone stole the thing while he was at theconcert.
Once he’d finally left with his ride, four college-age guys wearing muscle-baring tank tops and short shorts, I exhaled dramatically, effectively releasing the tension that had collected in me since I first laid eyes on his scruffiness. I hated self-doubt. It was so taxing. I’d made the right choice, not only for my physical well-being but for my mental health. A man with all that handsome messiness and slovenly charm was hazardous to my very existence – the kind of guy who pushed the limits and wanted his woman to be as fun and adventurous ashewas.
That eliminated me right off the bat. There was nothing exciting and fresh about me, and the men I chose were as predictable, classically dressed, and wooden as I was. They were handsome, cocky assholes, arrogant enough to assume they were the ones using me. And when the sun came up, these faceless surrogates were easy to turn my back on and never see again. I stuck to the self-involved jerks for one very specific reason: I’d never fall in love with a guy I couldn’tstand.
* * *
