by London Casey
“Stacey, huh?” Olivia asked as she stood up, purposely knocking my hand away.
“Yeah. Old friend.”
“Friend.”
“Jealous?”
“Nope.”
“Stacey is best friends with Nikki. Or was.”
“And is Nikki another friend?” Olivia asked.
“Something like that,” I said. “It’s all complicated.”
“Of course it is.”
I reached for her hand and took it. “What the hell are you really doing here?”
“The truth? I don’t know. But I might as well make the best of it. Plus, you’re a good guy, right?”
“That’s up for debate. Want to do something fun?”
“Sure,” Olivia said.
“Let’s get out of here. Do you need to talk to your friend?”
“Nope. Do you have anything to drink?”
“I’m sure I could figure out something.” I looked to Dinky and gave a head nod. He walked to the bar.
I was fully prepared to pay for an entire bottle of booze, but Olivia did something that surprised me. Really surprised me. She hurried around the bar. She walked to the shelf and grabbed a bottle of vodka. On her toes, her hoodie pulling up, showing a little skin. Damn, leaving my jaw dropped for a second. One second she was holding back, the next second she was stealing booze from the bar.
“What do you want?” Dinky asked.
“You know what… here.” I reached into my back pocket and took out some more cash. I gave it to Dinky.
“What’s this for?”
“Good faith,” I said with a wink.
Olivia was next to me again, the bottle hidden under the hoodie. I then placed my hand to her back and pointed to the backdoor.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“Trust me, darling. We’ll have some fun.”
I had no fucking clue where this one night of fun was going to end up.
I never thought I’d be giving a tour of the garage to a woman. The way Olivia looked at the place I could tell she was well beyond this shithole kind of town and life. And I never thought I would be setting up soda cans at the end of the lot with the intention of fucking shooting at them. But when Olivia spotted the air rifle, she asked to shoot it.
She held the gun like it was a bazooka.
“Lean over the hood of the car,” I said. “And take your aim.”
I had a spotlight turned on for her to see the soda cans.
It was quickly becoming a strange night for me.
When she leaned over the car, her hoodie pulled up again. I made fists and gritted my teeth. I felt something going through my body that made me wonder just how strange this night would actually end up getting.
Olivia had been sipping vodka from the bottle like it was water. Me? I hadn’t touched a drop of anything but water since the bar. No way I was going to put my life or her life in danger. Plus, I could tell something was bothering her and she was just using my little town and my little garage and my attention for her own comfort.
“I just pull the trigger?” she asked.
I laughed. “That’s generally how a gun works, darling.”
She looked back at me and stuck out her tongue.
Cute.
“Did you pump it?” I asked.
“What?”
I laughed. “Give me the gun.”
I took the air rifle and showed her how to pump it. I gave a quick lesson on what the term air rifle meant. Or BB gun. Whatever you wanted to call it.
She took her position and took a shot.
The gun gave off its pffft sound.
Not a single can moved.
“Nice shot,” I said.
“You do it then.”
I pumped the gun and stood there. I aimed at the first can and knocked it down with ease.
“What?” Olivia yelled. “That’s not fair.”
“No?”
“Give me that,” she said.
She was getting louder and feisty.
She stood with the gun in one hand and then grabbed the vodka bottle with the other hand.
Every man’s dream…
“You know, booze and weapons… they don’t mix well, Liv.”
She froze and looked back at me. “You called me Liv.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Nobody calls me that… ever.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Olivia.”
“No. I like it. I like the way your voice says it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Right.”
“Better than calling me a princess.”
“Why would I call you a princess?”
Olivia laughed. “You’re cute, Gavin. And sexy.”
“Okay,” I said. “You going to take that shot or what?”
Olivia put the vodka bottle on the hood of the car and leaned forward again. The way she spread her legs. Her ass pressing against those wannabe rugged ripped jeans. Little dimples at the small of her back showing.
Fuck.
She lined up her shot and took it.
The gun went off and the ting! of a can echoed too.
“I did it!” she yelled.
She turned and pointed the gun at me.
I jumped at her and grabbed for it. Yeah, it was just an air rifle and wasn’t pumped, but shit, it was still a gun.
“Fuck. Sorry.” Her eyes went wide.
I took the gun from her and placed it on the ground. “Nice shot, Olivia.”
“Call me Liv again,” she said.
“Liv,” I whispered.
She smiled.
We started to inch a little closer.
Very interesting…
She then put her hands to my shirt. A warning to ease back a little? Maybe.
“Hey, why do you have that gun?”
“Cats. Raccoons.”
“What?”
“They get into the garage and cause trouble.”
“You hurt animals?”
“I don’t hurt animals,” I said. “I protect what’s mine.”
“You’re a jerk.”
I laughed. “A jerk? You called me a jerk?”
“You shoot innocent animals,” Olivia said.
“Darling, I don’t kill them. And I usually don’t shoot them. My guys do. And I’m sure they only do it as a warning.”
“Maybe I should shoot you,” Olivia said.
I inched closer. “Try me.”
Olivia smiled and bit her bottom lip. She looked up at me with drunk eyes that had some clear intentions.
I reached up and touched her chin. “So, who the hell are you for real? You end up in this dive of a town in my dive of a bar and now in my dive of a garage.”
“Just looking for something different for the night.”
“Right,” I whispered.
A second later I pressed my lips to hers. Her hands grabbed at my shirt with force, pulling at me. There was a desperation coming off her that I wasn’t sure I liked or not. But I wasn’t going to pass up kissing a beautiful woman. I grabbed for her ass, taking more than a handful and pulling her tight to my body. Her hands clawed at my shirt, wanting to touch bare skin.
Her perfectly kept nails scratched against my dirty skin as I pushed her back. With a quick move, I lifted her and put her on the hood of the car. That poor car. I’d have to make sure the engine was really fixed up. Maybe even have the guys clean the inside and out, free of charge. Little did the owner know what their car was being used for that the night.
Olivia leaned back on her elbows as I kissed her harder, pushing her down. Her left leg hooked around me. I kissed down to her neck, smelling shampoo and perfume that wasn’t anything I ever smelled before. Nobody I had kissed in this town could afford whatever she sprayed on her skin. Her skin was smooth and tasted like honey. I went down and around to the other side. Her hands scratched up my back, trying to dig at me but she couldn’t get through the muscle.
I pulled back and pulled her off the car, holding her. Her legs ar
ound my body. I had her eye level now.
“One night, huh?” I whispered.
“Can you take me home?”
“To the city?”
“To your house, jerk,” Olivia said, her words a little slurred.
I felt a little sting of guilt go through me. She was drunk. Not blackout drunk but drunk enough to maybe make a decision she’d regret. I gritted my teeth and growled.
No matter what, I was going to have a sleepover.
I made the last turn to head up the dirt road to get to the house when Olivia put the vodka bottle down and put her hands to the dashboard. It wasn’t my place to tell someone when to start or stop drinking but I was going to give her one more sip and then the vodka bottle was going to disappear.
Looked like I was a minute too late as she made a sound and then grabbed for the door.
“Gavin…”
“Shit,” I said.
I slammed on the brakes and put the truck into park.
I hurried to get out and around the truck but it was too late again. Olivia had the door open and was leaning out of my truck. Getting sick.
I grabbed at the door and just stood there. I couldn’t help but laugh. Served me right for trying to take a woman home. Some woman from the city. Probably passing through town, thinking she’d find some rough and tough dirty guy to fool around with.
Olivia looked up at me and frowned. “Gavin…”
“My house is right up the road.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, darling.”
I shut the door and then got back into the truck. I drove a little slower. Olivia was curled up against her door, eyes shut, bouncing with the truck as it navigated across the dirt road.
When I got home, I looked over at Olivia and shook my head.
I couldn’t believe I’d have to carry her into my house.
I scooped her up and did just that. She groaned and rocked her head back and forth before settling it to my chest.
Inside, I carried her to the couch and gently put her down.
Jesse lifted his aged head and turned it a little.
“Don’t worry,” I said to the dog. “She’s okay. Thanks for protecting me.”
Jesse groaned and put his head back down on the arm of the chair.
I sat on the coffee table as Olivia forced herself to sit up.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said. “You’re good here, darling. I am a good guy. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
Olivia looked right at me. “Why do good people die? I mean… they shouldn’t die. Right?”
I was taken back for a second. That was a question I had asked myself many nights after one too many drinks. The story of Olivia, the strange, beautiful woman from the city, just took another turn.
I reached forward and touched her cheek. “I don’t know why. It sucks though.”
“I’m hot,” she said.
She grabbed her hoodie and started to wrestle with it. I had to admit, it was kind of funny to watch. She managed to get the hoodie up, but she also had her shirt with her. Before I could react, her shirt pulled up over her bra. A perfectly black bra with flower laced trim at the top, a see through pattern halfway down that showed more than Olivia probably intended. My hands instantly began to tingle, knowing damn well she was the perfect handful for me.
I swallowed hard and sucked in a breath as I reached forward and grabbed her shirt.
“Hey, darling, slow for a second,” I said. “You’re stripping yourself.”
I held her shirt as she peeled her hoodie off her head.
Her hair was messy and static like.
“I should have done more for her,” Olivia said.
Her eyes were heavy as her head went back.
I gently took her into my hands and guided her down to the couch. I grabbed the blanket from the back and pulled it over her body.
“I’m sure you did all you could,” I whispered.
I moved and Olivia grabbed for my hand. “Thank you, Gavin. You are a good guy.”
“If you say so,” I whispered.
I then got a bucket and a washcloth for her, in case she got sick again.
I put a blanket on the floor and snapped my fingers at Jesse, making him sleep on the floor. He wasn’t happy, but whatever, I sure as hell wasn’t sleeping on the floor.
I got into the chair and looked over at Olivia.
She was out cold.
Then I started to laugh.
I put my head back and shut my eyes.
Why do good people die?
The question echoed in my head.
And the only way I could get myself to sleep was to answer it the only way I knew how. With the hard truth.
Because sometimes… they just fucking do.
Four
Day into Night
(Olivia)
I felt a tongue slide across my face. I shook my head. Before I could open my eyes the entire night played out in my head. I felt the tongue again. Gavin was licking me. He was making a move on me. Trying to touch me while I was sleeping.
I grabbed for the blanket and pulled it over my head and turned away.
Then I felt Gavin rip the blanket off me.
Then he barked and my eyes popped open.
Wait… barked?
I turned my head and saw a dog staring at me. He had a paw up on the couch. His mouth open, breathing, tongue dangling from its mouth. His breath smelled better than mine tasted.
I froze for a few seconds, trying to put everything together.
“Jesse, get away from her.”
The dog let out a little yip and then slowly walked away, his hips bouncing against the coffee table and then the chair. He circled and plopped down.
Gavin then appeared holding a cup of coffee. He put it on the coffee table.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said. “Coffee. Black. Drink it. It’ll do you good.”
“Gavin…”
Whitney.
“Shit,” I said. I sat up and grabbed for my phone.
I frowned when I realized she hadn’t texted or called me. Not even to check on me. Not once. I just disappeared into the night and she didn’t care.
I sent her a quick text letting her know that I was safe and would be heading home soon. Then I sent a text to a number that would have a car show up for me as soon as possible.
I then looked around at my surroundings.
It was an old house with all wood trim, old hardwood floors, a large fireplace that looked in need of a cleaning. It had a distinct smell to it too. Not dirty but not clean either.
Gavin sat in a chair next to the couch holding another coffee cup in his hands. “You okay? You need some medicine or something?”
“No,” I said. “I, uh, I texted for a ride. I’ll be out of your hair in a few.”
“Right,” Gavin said. He sat back and raised an eyebrow.
I remembered him being sexy but, damn, he looked even sexier with sleep on his face and his hair messy. There was a cocky look to his face like he knew something I didn’t.
“Oh, no,” I whispered. “Did we…”
He laughed. “No. You threw up and then fell asleep.”
Gavin stood and walked away.
I quickly jumped to my feet and the room spun. I put my hands out and caught my balance. I grabbed for the coffee and took a few sips. It was good. It helped.
My mind replayed the images. Drinking. Flirting. Shooting an air rifle. Kissing Gavin. Oh, damn, so much kissing… I licked my lips, daring myself to taste him again, but he wasn’t there. Just a nasty taste. Because I threw up. I came home with Gavin for a reason… and threw up instead.
Damn.
I walked through the living room, taking in the rustic, country kind of setting.
I paused at the dining room and saw through the large bay window that he had nothing but land outside. Not a house in sight. No buildings. No city. Nothing.
My jaw hit the floor.
T
o my right was the kitchen, a huge kitchen. With an island in the middle. Pans hanging from the ceiling over the island.
Gavin stood at the stove, cooking breakfast. He looked over his shoulder, smiling. “You sure you’re okay?”
“This house is really nice, Gavin.”
“Yeah? Kind of beat up, right?”
“But it’s… so different than what I’m used to.”
“And what are you used to?”
I stared at him. He really had no idea who I was.
“I’m from the city. So it’s buildings. Apartments. Updated stuff.”
“Updated,” Gavin said.
“Not in a mean way.”
“Of course not. Do you like your bacon cooked or burnt?”
“No, Gavin. No way. I couldn’t…”
“I’m already cooking it,” he said.
I walked into the kitchen and leaned against the wall. “Whatever happened last night, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you. Or your night. Or take up your time. It’s just that…”
“Olivia, I’m not asking questions, okay? I’m cooking breakfast for whoever wants some. Then I have to get ready and head to the garage.”
“Right,” I said.
“Do you have a job to go to?”
“Yeah,” I said.
I bit my lip when Gavin faced the stove again. I looked around the kitchen. Everything old, but in a good way, I swear. It was comforting. Like a real home. Mail on the counter. A hat on top of that. Keys on the counter. The coffeemaker near the edge of the counter with grounds on the counter. The coffee can had a big spoon on top. The coffee was cheap, some store brand stuff.
It was perfect.
The refrigerator had one door. No ice maker even. Nothing fancy. No built-in wine fridge either. The cabinets were brown, worn, greasy looking. Some of the handles were crooked.
“Gavin…”
“Yeah?” he looked back again.
“Thank you for not being a jerk last night.”
“Correction,” he said. “You called me a jerk a couple times.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” he said.
He then put a whole bunch of bacon on a plate. Not fancy, organic turkey bacon. But real bacon. Dripping with yummy grease. And he plopped it right on a plate with paper towel on it. Then he scraped scrambled eggs into a bowl. Not special eggs with minced up kale or fancy tomatoes or expensive cheeses in it. Just scrambled eggs.