Page 24 of Nuts

“Right.”

“Yeah. I’m not interested in that. I’m not seventeen. I’m into hookups.”

“That’s my point,” she said. “Hookups get you nowhere in life. It’s just sex.”

“Maybe sex is all I’m after.”

“I think this conversation has gone far enough,” Smokey said dryly.

I raised my bottle of beer. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Fine,” Eddie said. “I came close to making my point. Better than I do most times.”

“You made your point,” I said.

“But--”

“Just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean you didn’t make your point, Ed. Let’s just agree that we disagree on this.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the waitress. Maybe it’ll be more than a hookup.”

“What would she have to do to capture your interest?”

Capture my interest?

Capture was the perfect choice of words. I finished my beer and gave her question some consideration, but not very much. The mere thought of being with a woman on a permanent basis made me feel constrained.

I wanted to answer her, I really did. I wanted to know myself. Hell, everyone around me was getting married, having babies, or rigging up their Ol’ Lady with a Property Of patch. I wondered if I was just wired differently, or if my lack of trust was so engrained in my being that I’d never let a woman be a part of my life.

I looked at Smokey. He sat at Sandy’s side, holding a piece of broccoli as she nibbled the head off the stalk.

Bile rose in my throat.

I looked at Eddie. “Nothing. There’s nothing she – or any woman – will be able to do to capture my interest.”

And, I truly believed each and every word.

Chapter Nine

Joey

He’d started drinking early in the evening. Although he had yet to have a fit of anger or a bad word to say, I’d been around him long enough to know if he was drinking that sooner or later he’d do or say something.

With my covers pulled to my shoulders and my iPod providing a soft barrier of music between us, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered when I realistically might be able to live on my own.

Rent was going to cost $1,400 a month for the cheapest apartment in town. Utilities would be another $450 by my calculations. Food, fuel, and miscellaneous expenses would be another $600, bringing my total to $2,450.

I’d need to make at least $2,600 a month to survive comfortably.

In many states, riding motorcycles was a seasonal activity. In Oceanside, California, it was something a rider could enjoy year-round. Sales at the Harley dealer was an even stream of income, or at least it should be.

If I could meet my quota each month, and then sell an added $10,000 in accessories, I could make $3,000 a month.

I decided that would be my goal. If I could achieve it for three months straight, and save every penny I could, I’d be comfortable moving out.

With my decision made, I turned off my iPod and set it on the dresser.