by Amber Burns
She jumped a little, her phone vibrating. It let me know she got my message, especially when she turned pink.
“Not that I’ve noticed. The only thing I’ve noticed is the funny noise.”
That didn’t say a lot. Sometimes when it came to cars women tended to ignore a lot.
“Okay, we’ll see when I get the chance to look at it. Text me,” I said seriously as I put my phone away. “I am holding you to this lunch thing. I’d like to look at this,” I tapped at the hood of her car. “Today if you don’t mind.”
“I get off of work at five,” she shifted from foot to foot. “I need to get back. Thank you, I-I guess I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Yep.”
I watched her sit and I stepped away from her car. She pulled out and I checked my phone for the time. I had a couple of hours to wait to see her again. I was gonna be antsy. I went back to the building with my phone in my hand, pulling up a website on the make of her car. I was hoping that it wasn’t the transmission. Maybe it just needed to be flushed.
“Did you get a date out of that girl?” Jimmy asked standing just outside of the bar door. “Man, I didn’t know you had skills.”
“I got skills,” I said without looking from my phone. “This limp ain’t just from an IED, son. My dick is so big it affects the way I walk.” I nudged him with my shoulder, “Women recognize it and want to get a piece.”
“You’re so full of shit,” he shook his head with a laugh.
“Blue eyes, dude,” I pulled on my cheek to emphasize my eye color. “I ain’t full of shit. Unlike your brown eyed ass. My dick is so big I could win a three legged race by myself.”
He laughed louder at that, “With the way you hobble around here I doubt it.” He pulled a cigarette out from the stash he had rolled up in his sleeve. He offered me one, but I waved it off. I was on a fixed income and couldn’t really afford a vice like smoking. “How’d you manage to talk her into seeing you?”
I shrugged and leaned back against the building, standing beside him. “You gotta question these good looks,” I gestured to himself and gave the beard I had a slight tug. “Honestly, grow yourself one of these and women will throw themselves at you.”
He scratched his chin and jaw like he was contemplating my advice, “I got peach fuzz right now.”
“It’s a work in progress,” I patted his shoulder. “Grow a beard and the women will come.”
“Got any work to do today,” he stuck the cigarette in his mouth and let it dangle from his lip as he spoke. “Or is it a day off and you’re just so fucking sad that you got nowhere to go?”
“Motherfucker I gotta lunch date,” I straightened and wavered on my feet slightly, a spasm started at the small of my back and I gritted my teeth to keep from cursing more. “I ain’t sad. I’m fucking ecstatic”
“I got a friend that just picked up a piece of shit bike that needs work,” he cut in, apparently not seeing me falter or he didn’t care. “He’s willing to pay.”
I took a breath through my teeth as I tried to shake off the pain. “So he’s not apart of the club?”
Jimmy shook his head, “He’s never served. Unless Ted and Wilson are considering taking in civis? Then I’ll definitely vouch for the guy..”
“You haven’t been patched in yet, dude,” I shrugged then stretched, trying to get some relief as I reached my hands up to hit the roof’s overhang. “I got no problems looking at the guy’s bike. All my tools are here so he’ll have to bring it here. You’ll have to okay that with Teddy,” I turned to go inside, deciding I’d need a to take something and maybe sit down with my trusty tens unit for some much needed relief. “I got plans for today, but I could probably see the guy before five.”
Jimmy pulled something out of his pocket and offered it to me. It took me a second to realize it was money. “I’ll send him a text to be here at three so you can give it a good look. Then you can make a list of parts you might need so he can get them for you.”
I took the money and my eyebrows rose, the kid gave me two hundreds just for saying I’d look at his friends bike.
“Where’d you get this?” I questioned.
“Side jobs, man,” he smirked at me. “If Teddy wasn’t protecting your disability claim you could do them, too.” He opened the door for me, cigarette still on his lip, “You do me this favor and I’ll pay you three hundred more if you get his bike fixed.”
“Is it a project bike?”
“Nah, I think he dropped it or some shit. It doesn’t look like it really needs body work, but the engine is definitely fucked,” he shrugged. “You’ll probably be able to tell when you look at it.”
I nodded as I went inside, stuffing the money he gave me into a pocket and deciding it’s better to get relief then to question him. The spasms shifted lower and I had about two hours to get some sense of normality before I tred to get Madi’s attention.
Girls dig oily guys, right?
3
After a few pills and nearly an hour with a tens unit taped to my lower back the pulsing aches faded to a more tolerable level. I went to the men’s room to get myself cleaned up and try my best to make an impression. I combed out the beard and did my best to make my growing mop of hair settle down. I couldn’t keep it too long, but it was getting shaggy. Luckily I didn’t look beastly like some of the guys that rolled through here. Covered in tattoos, I was definitely the exact opposite of Madi. She looked the picture of innocence and the way she stuttered and fidgeted, I had to wonder if she had ever had a man’s attention before. I’d figure it out.
I got a text from her that gave me about thirty minutes to get to her. It was an address and that’s about it. No ‘hi how are you?’ or any kind of small talk. Damn, she knew how to shoot a guy’s ego down a notch. I didn’t let it get to me. I saddled up on my bike, put my helmet on, and kicked my baby into a roar. The ride to the address she gave me was a short fifteen minutes, but the rumble and vibrations of the motorcycle between my legs was enough to help the achiness.
By the time I got there I was high from the breeze that I had rode through and I was just basking in the fact that it had been such a great day to go for ride. I wonder what the chances were that I could talk Madi on to the back of my bike. It was a tempting thought that I would definite be taking a shot at. I pulled up to a curb about a block from the address she gave me. I lugged my helmet off and stowed it into a saddlebag and stretched my legs.
I walked the rest of the way, letting my phone direct me until I spotted Madi sitting in the outside under a building canopy in a little area that has a wrought iron fence. I made a beeline for her, not even caring about the restaurant that she’s picked out. She was sitting by herself at little metal dinette set, looking a picture of innocence. She looked like she did the last two times I’d seen her, someone that tried to blend in and downplay their beauty. Her brown hair was pulled back from her face, which was covered by thick glasses, and she wore neutral colors. She was someone that was used to being in the background. I stood outside the little gate for maybe five minutes just looking at her before she seemed to notice me. She had a book with her, instead of doing what everyone else was doing looking at their phones she was looking at a book.
“Do they even make books anymore?" I asked myself.
Her eyes shot up to mine and I was blown by how green her eyes were. She looked surprised to see me and she immediately closed her book and shoved it into her bag, “Yes. They still make books.”
I tried to look cool by climbing over the wrought iron gate and I immediately regretted it. I managed it, but by the time I got to her table I entire left leg was throbbing and the spasms in my back came back with a force. I bit my lip to keep from cursing and slowly sat down in the chair.
“Well, I tried to look cool and I ended up looking like a jackass,” I admitted with a wince.
Her brows were drawn up and she seemed to have gathered that I was hurting.
“Um, it would have been impressive if you didn
’t suddenly look like you pulled an important muscle,” she gave him a sympathetic smile.
Regardless of the pity I did manage to get a smile out of her.
“I wish it was just a muscle I pulled,” I shifted in the chair and struggled to get comfortable. “So,” I took a breath as I tried to think past the throbbing and pain. “I didn’t even pay attention to this place. What kind of food does it offer?”
“It’s kind of like an upscale deli, they have great sandwiches and wraps,” she eyed me curiously as if she could see me suffering.
“Awesome,” I nodded and tried to focus on her. “Your car still running?”
She nodded and offered me her menu. I took it and pretended to scope it out as I tried to think of something to say to this girl.
“So, my occupations is pretty obvious. What do you do? You a lawyer?”
“No,” she shook her head as she spoke, her hair not shifting a bit as she did. That was impressive, it was either wound tight or she had a heavy coat of hair spray. “I’m a paralegal, I work for a law firm that’s about two blocks from here.”
“So you walked here for lunch?”
She shrugged, looking awkward as she nodded. “It’s a pretty day.”
“It sure the hell is,” I grinned as I spotted a waitress coming our way. “It’s a perfect day for a bike right,” and despite the fact that I was in pain slowly edging into agony, I kept on. “If you’d like to go for a ride after work I’d love to take you around town on my bike.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open for a second, I didn’t know if she was even thinking about the idea. I shifted forward to lean against the table waiting for her to say something. The waitress didn’t give us the chance to explore the conversation.
“Hey there,” the waitress said as she gave me the once over. “You guys know what you want?”
I nodded towards Madi, “Ladies first.”
That wasn’t just a matter of being polite, it was more along the lines of not having a clue as to what I wanted. So, I’d play it cool and order what Madi ordered. She didn’t bat an eye when I did. As soon as the waitress left us I shifted around in the metal chair again.
“So, about that ride?” I grinned at her to see if she’d bite.
“Motorcycles are dangerous,” she looked away from me and seemed to struggle with an excuse. I knew at the first look that she wasn’t that kind of girl, but most chicks had a wild side. Maybe this one did, too. “Over four thousand people die in motorcycle accidents each year,” she looked at me then, a seriousness in her green eyes and it almost looked like she was worried about me. “You’re not going to turn into a statistic, are you? Are you a part of a motorcycle gang? That does explain all the tattoos.” Now I got the feeling she was talking less to me and more to herself. “I can’t get caught up in someone that does illegal things.”
I cleared my throat to get her attention.
“Key to avoiding a wreck is paying attention because nine times out of ten the guy driving a car isn’t. Wear a helmet and have a good life insurance policy, it’s the best I can do.” I shrugged, not trying to make it nonchalant but being in an accident wasn’t something I worried about. “I’m not in a gang, they’re called clubs so you know. The tattoos… well,” I gave her another cheesy grin and twisted one arm so she could look at the sleeve. “Once you get one you have to get more then eventually you end up covered.”
“So, that bar you were at was a motorcycle club?” she looked doubtful, like she expected me to be some kind of gang banger. I never thought I looked the part.
I shook my head, amused. “Yea, but probably not how you think it is. We’re all veterans and retirees. So everybody there served in the military in one way or another. It’s more of a support group and less illegal shit.”
“Oh,” something about admitting what the Brotherhood was about seemed to have eased some discomfort with her. She relaxed in her seat and I could see curiosity evident on her face. I had her full attention, now. “So you served?”
“Yep,” I did a mock salute, hoping that it wouldn’t make this a serious conversation. “Nine years and two combat tours in Iraq as an Army engine mechanic.”
“That’s why you want to look at my car?” Clarity was on her expression as she studied me.
“Well, it was more along the lines of there being a pretty girl driving a car that sounded rough,” I didn’t see a reason to beat around the bush. Maybe if I made my interest obvious it would help my chances. “I figured if I did some work on your car maybe that’d give you reason enough to want to hang around with me. Maybe one day I might talk you on to the back of my bike and get you for keeps,” I gave her a wink.
She flushed and cupped one cheek as if she could cover it.
“I’m not pretty and I’m definitely not the kind of girl to get on the back of a motorcycle,” she looked away, I hoped she was flattered. “As long as that’s not a deciding factor I don’t see why we couldn’t ‘hang out’ as you put it.”
“Not a deciding factor,” I assured her. “But, I gotta say, you don’t know what you’re missing. There’s something special about being on a bike.”
The waitress came back with our lunch, rudely interrupting my pitch. We both ordered wraps, which was something I wouldn’t usually go for, but I’m a man that’d eat just about anything you’d put in front of him. Something the Army teaches you, you don’t turn your nose up at unfamiliar food because it could always be worse.
“I’ll take it into consideration,” she said lightly before she began to eat.
I followed suit and while our talking had cooled we managed to get a little more small talk between bites. Madi was my opposite to an extreme; she was quiet and shy while I was a man that didn’t have a problem saying what was on his mind. She worked hard, but it was from behind a desk. The last time I sat at a desk was in bootcamp and I was far from quiet and shy. But there was something about her that drew me to her like a moth to a flame.
“So, there’s not a lot of room for parking for your car in the lot. But I can do some arranging and fit you in enough so I can get a good look under the hood,” I wiped my hands off then went about making sure I didn’t make a mess on my face. “Just ride over after you get off.”
She nodded and set down the rest of her wrap, “How do I pay you for the work you’re doing for me?”
Normally, if someone out of the club was going to get me to do work on their car or shit I’d ask for payment. Ask for money or get taken advantage of is my usual motto. However this girl didn’t really strike me as the type to take advantage so I shrugged, “Cook me dinner. Lemme take you for a ride, give me a call or a text here and there.”
“You’re making it sound like you want to date me in exchange for fixing my car,” she raised an eyebrow.
I chuckled, “I said that before. Only instead of saying date I said hang out.”
“Oh,” she faltered a little, looking confused. “I thought that meant you wanted to be friends.” I saw her swallow as she considered something, “Do you really think we’ll have enough in common to be able to actually date? Like a relationship would work between us?”
“Never heard the saying opposites attract?”
“So, you’re attracted to me. You’ve called me pretty and sweetcheeks,” she glared at me now. “But appearance isn’t everything. You can’t expect a relationship to work just because you find each other attractive.”
“Naw,” I waved a hand. “It’s more than that. It’s not the deciding factor, but if you’re not going to give me the chance simply because I find you attractive it seems kind of unfair. Are you trying to brush me off because you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” her voice sounded small and she looked down into her lap. “It’s been a long time since I actually dated someone.”
“Really?” I raised both my eyebrows. “Well, that aside. Don’t you want to see what it could be like between us? Have a little fun, maybe?”
“You look lik
e the kind of guy that takes advantage of women and breaks their hearts,” she looked up at me now. I didn’t know if she was serious or not. “If I agree to date you, how do I know that you’re not just going to use me and then dump me when you’re done?”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” I huffed. I folded my arms onto the table and leaned forward. “How about we make a deal here? I promise not to break your heart if you promise not to break mine?”
“How would that work?” she looked intrigued.
“I’m a one woman kind of man,” I tilted my head a little. “You agree to be a one man kind of woman and I think it could work out.”
“That’s something that goes without saying,” she said with a frown. “How else does this work?”