HOT as F*CK
Page 45
“Fuck, dude,” Pee Bee said. “Why would you smoke it?”
“The juice I smoke doesn’t have diacetyl in it. Chinese shit does, American shit doesn’t.”
Pee Bee stepped toward the door. “How the fuck you know where it comes from?”
“My smoke shop makes it. They’ve got to report to the feds now, they govern the shit. Like everything else.”
“Keep that fucker away from me,” Pee bee warned. “Blow it in my face, I’ll knock your ass out.”
“It’s water vapor.”
“Keep your water vapor to yourself, Smoke.”
“Ditto,” I said.
“Pussies,” Smokey said with a laugh.
“So, you’ll do it for ten?” I asked.
He slipped the smoke box into his pocket. “Yep.”
“Plan on starting next week.”
“Don’t you have to give this guy a price?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Already did.”
“And you’ve already got a contract?”
“Yep.”
“What’d you bid the flooring at?”
I grinned. “Thirteen.”
“What the fuck?”
“Man’s got to make money,” I said. “I charged him low retail, and I pay you wholesale.”
“Asshole,” he hissed.
I patted my hand against my wallet. “Asshole that’s saving money.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Pee bee said. “Being in this big son-of-a-bitch makes me nervous.”
We followed Pee Bee outside. I locked the front door and set the alarm. Standing on the massive porch overlooking the courtyard, the three of us stared in awe at the incredibly beautiful landscape of the yard and courtyard.
“Who the fuck owns this mansion, anyway?”
“Young kid,” I said. “He’s like 24 or 25 or something.”
Pee Bee went bug-eyed. “No shit? Place has got to be worth what? Twenty million?”
“Thirty-five,” I said. “He said he inherited it.”
“What’s he do for a living?”
“Invests money. That’s it,” I said. “This kid had no family, bumped into the previous owner by chance, and they ended up hitting it off. Then, the guy left it to him in his will. Kid said the owner was one cool dude, though.”
“Gave him this place? No shit?”
“My hand to God. Cars, furniture, bank account, everything. Even his security guard. Kid said the guy just left everything to him.”
“Damn.” He shook his head. “Hey, speaking of kids, how’s that girl from the dope house? Your old neighbor’s daughter?”
“She’s good. I was gonna ask you about her anyway. You got time when we get back to the clubhouse to talk for a bit?”
“Sure.”
“What? We’re not brothers now?” Smokey asked, stepping off the porch as he spoke. He turned toward us. “Can’t say anything around me?”
“I’m not looking to have you try and shove your opinion down my throat, Smoke. Your about as open-minded as communist dictator.”
“What the fuck’s that mean?” he asked.
“Means you and that fucker in North Korea have a lot in common.”
“Fuck you,” he hissed.
“It’s true. It’s your way, or no way at all,” I said. “You aren’t open to change.”
“What the fuck you lookin’ to change?”
“I don’t want to change anything. I was just looking to talk.”
“Talk, then,” he said.
I shook my head. “Let’s get.”
“Talk, motherfucker. We’re brothers. Fuckers Forever.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Forever Fuckers,” I said, finishing our motto.
“So, talk,” he said.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright. But this shit stays here.”
Pee Bee nodded. “No problem.”
I looked at Smokey.
“I’m staying out of it,” he said.
“Stays here,” I growled. “Every word.”
“Sure thing, Cholo.”
“So, what’s up? Pee Bee asked.
“Well, you know about the neighbor, right?”
“Yeah. Her mom? Your old high school squeeze.”
“Not my squeeze,” I said. “She was just some chick I crushed on hard.”
“So, you never fucked with her?”
“Nope.”
He looked confused. “No hand-jobs? Nothing?”
“Not even a fucking hug.”
“Wasn’t much of a girlfriend, then,” Smokey said.
I glared at him.
His hands shot in the air. “I’ll stay out of it.”
“She lived across the street, and I gawked at her for six or eight years. Then, they moved away. Her daughter, who I thought all along was her little sister, gets nabbed, and after getting nowhere with the cops, she goes to our old house, which is still my mother’s place. She gets my sister, and my sister tells her to come to the place I was remodeling,” I explained, setting the stage, so to speak.
“Why’s she think you can help? I mean, you can, and you did, but why does she think so?” Pee Bee asked.
“The guys that took her were Mexicans, and I used to be in a gang when I was a kid.”
He nodded. “Gotcha. She thinks you’ve still got roots.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Where you headed with this deal?” Pee Bee asked, his face covered with a guilty grin. “You gonna do the mother-daughter deal? Make one of ‘em lick your butt while the other sucks your cock?”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Smokey chimed. “A fucking blowjob sandwich.”
I shot Smoke a shitty glare.
His hands shot in the air. “I’ll just listen.”
I turned toward Pee Bee. “Nothing like that, Brother. Just listen. I go over there the other night to check on the daughter. You know, to see if she’s okay. When I get there, mom’s there, but the daughter’s gone. I sit on the couch, and the mom starts feeling my leg, inching her hand a little closer to my cock every few minutes. Now, remember, I’ve never done shit with this bitch, nor have I told her how I felt when I was a kid. I mean, shit. I was 14 when she was 24. I was 21 or 22 when she left, and she was 32.”
“Damn, she lived with her folks all that time?”
“Yeah. But at the time, I didn’t know how old she was. I knew she was older, but not that much older. And, I thought the daughter was her little sister, remember that. The family kind of led all the neighbors to believe that.”
Pee bee nodded. “Okay.”
“So, mom’s rubbing my leg, and the daughter shows up. Now, I can’t control my fucking Johnson, so it’s hard as fuck when the daughter gets there. Anyway, so the mom and me leave to get some more wine, and when we do--”
“Wait,” Pee Bee said. “You’re sitting around drinking wine with them?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. You left that part out.”
“I took a bottle of fucking wine with me trying to be polite.”
“Motherfucker,” Smokey said. “You took a bottle of wine hoping to tap both their asses. I know you, remember?”
“God damn it, Smoke!”
“I’ll just listen,” he said.
I shook my head at Smoke’s comment, and then shifted my attention to Pee Bee. “Alright. We go to get more wine, and mom’s all hanging on me and shit--”
“Was she drunk?” Pee Bee asked.
“Kind of.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Well, I get back to the house, and pretty soon, mom’s drunker’n a fucking monkey. She goes to bed, and I’m sitting there staring at the daughter. She’s staring back at me all smiling and shit. I flip out and tell her I gotta go, and then leave. Then, the other night I went over there and we ended up making tacos and I stayed eight fucking hours afterward watching Californication on Netflix.”
“With the mom or the daughter?” Pee Bee asked.
“Hank Moody ain’t on Netflix,” Smokey said.
“Well, it was on something, and we watched it.”
“Good show, ain’t it?”
“Pretty good,” I said, half irritated that he was intervening in the conversation.
Smokey took a pull off his vape, exhaled into the air, and nodded. “Hank pulls some serious ass. That guy fucks some puss for sure. Girl asked you to watch that, she was trying to get in your pants, Brother.”
I acted like I didn’t hear him, and stayed focused on pee Bee. “What I was wondering was would it be weird if I ask the daughter out?”
“Ask her out?” He arched an eyebrow. “Like ask her out? On a date?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He blurted out a laugh, and when he noticed the only one laughing with him was Smokey, he stopped.
After he caught his breath, he looked at me in disbelief. “Since when do you ask anybody out? You just fuck bitches.”
“Same as you, asshole,” I snapped back.
He chuckled. “I met someone and settled down.”
“Well. That’s what I’m asking. Would it be weird if--”
“Weird how?” Smokey asked.
“Just weird,” I responded. I alternated glances between them, waiting on an answer.
“Hank Moody fucked a 16-year-old. You see that episode?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I saw it. She’s 21, not 16. And, I’m not Hank fucking Moody.”
Smokey took another pull on his deal, and exhaled a plume of smoke. “You just trying to stick this chick full of dick and hope the mom don’t find out?”
“No.”
“What are you trying to do,” Pee Bee asked.
“That’s just it. I ain’t sure.”
He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at me. “What the fuck are you asking me?”
“I want to invite Alexandra, the daughter, over for dinner.”
“What’s your question?”
“Would it be weird?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it would.”
I was afraid that’s what he’d say. “How?” I asked.
“I’ve known you for what? Seven, eight years?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“All you’ve ever done is fuck bitches and kick ‘em aside. So would it be weird for you to ask one on a date? Yeah, it’d be weird. Why? ‘Cause you don’t ask bitches on dates.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod. “Is that the only reason?”
“Yeah. What else would there be?”
I shrugged. “Age difference. Her mom. That kind of stuff. And just, the whole deal with, you know, what happened.”
“She’s what? You said 21, right?”
I nodded.
He shook his head. “She’s 21, you’re 30. Who fucking cares.”
“31.”
“Like I said. Who fucking cares. Then, the mom? You don’t owe that bitch nothing. You looking to hook up with her, too?”
“Nope.”
“You sure?”
“I am now.”
“That little bitch sucked your cock, didn’t she?” Smokey asked. “When you were watching Californication.”
I cleared my throat and shot him a glare. “Smoke, I’m gonna come down off this fucking porch and pound your skinny ass if you keep it up.”
“God damn, Cholo. Settle down, motherfucker. But did she?”
“I mean it,” I hissed.
“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Pee Bee said.
“I like that,” I said.
“Best saying, ever,” Smokey said.
I looked at Pee Bee. “Here’s the thing. I’ll be honest. I don’t know if it’s because of the whole deal at the dope house, or what, but I feel some weird connection to this chick that I can’t explain. I don’t know if it’s because she’s so fucking cute, or if it’s because I see her mother in her, or if it’s because deep down inside I want to fuck this chick, and I’m making up excuses, but I want to see what happens with her, and I don’t want to do it wrong.”
“You probably don’t want to do it wrong because of what she’s been through, Brother. You’re just trying to protect her.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. I nodded in agreement. “Good point.”
“As far as the other shit goes, if you don’t know the answer, nobody does. I can tell you this: nobody was wilder than me, and when I met Tegan…” His mouth curled into a smirk and he shook his head. “Man, I’m telling ya. Shit changed like that.”
He snapped his fingers.
“You didn’t see it coming?” I asked.
“Shit, Brother. It was like I got hit by a bus. But before that? I wondered. Just like you are now. And there I was, treating this girl different than anyone I’d ever met. We went for rides, and I didn’t try and fuck her. We went to dinner, and I didn’t try and fuck her. Hell, I was scared to kiss her when I took her home from our date. Dude, it was bat shit crazy.”
“Are you shittin’ me?” I coughed a laugh. “You? Scared to kiss a bitch?”
He chuckled. “True fucking story, I’m telling ya. But listen. My pop said this. When you know, you know. And, he was right. The only way you’re going to find out is to try. So, ask the chick out. If the mom doesn’t like it, tell her to kick rocks.”
I extended my hand. “Appreciate you, Brother.”
And, just like that, I made my decision.
I was going to ask Alexandra out on an official date.
To my mother’s house.
Chapter Eighty-Six
Lex
I stood on the porch, waiting eagerly to hear his approaching motorcycle. A text message of are you home? from him got a prompt yes response from me. He then said he wanted to talk to me in person. When I asked what it was about, he simply responded we’ll talk when I get there.
As I heard the motorcycle’s engine in the distance, I became apprehensive. Not knowing what event called for an early evening surprise visit didn’t sit well with me, and although I was probably mistaken, thoughts of repercussions from Calle 18’s gang came to mind.
I gazed toward the sound, waiting for him to come over the top of the hill. Like magic, he appeared, the exhaust cackling behind him as he sped toward me.
He rolled into the drive, took off his helmet, and pulled his cap down low on his head. As he got off the bike he glanced at me and grinned. Then his eyes fell to the sidewalk, and he sauntered toward me with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, seeming nervous as he approached.
He stopped at the front of the porch. His eyes were fixed on my knees.
What the fuck?
“Nice, aren’t they?” I asked, my voice thick with sarcasm.
“What’s that?” He looked up, but not enough that I could see the eyes that were hidden beneath the bill of his hat.
“My knees,” I said dryly. “You’re staring at them, and it’s weird.”
He pulled the bill of his cap up slightly and grinned. “Sorry.”
He still hadn’t made eye contact. His focus was now on my twat. “What’s going on?” I twisted my hips to the side and motioned toward the door. “Want to come in?”
His hands went into his pockets again. He shrugged slightly.
“You don’t know if you want to come in?”
He pushed his thumb against the bill of his hat, lifting it enough that I could see his eyes. His face was cleanly shaven, and he looked like a tattooed little boy. A muscular tattooed little boy.
“I uhhm. I wanted to ask you something,” he stammered.
I shrugged. “You can ask me anything.”
He looked up, inhaled a shallow breath, and locked eyes with me. “Would you want to eat dinner with me? At my mom’s house? Just you, me, and her? She wants to meet you.”
Wow.
He could have said a lot of things. Nothing, however, would have filled me with warmth and excited me as much as what he had asked.
Th
e thought of it made me nervous and excited me at the same time.
“You told her about me?”
“Yeah. I did,” he said. “It was hard not to.”
I felt like I was being asked to prom, and I liked it.
“Yes,” I said. “I’d love to come to dinner and meet her.”
“When?” he asked sheepishly.
I couldn’t help but smile. “When were you thinking?”
He lifted his bill a little more, resting the hat on the back of his head. “You busy now?”
Now?
“Now?” I gasped. “Like now?”
“Or whenever.” He stepped onto the porch. “She cooks dinner every night, even if no one’s there. I was telling her about you, and she wants to meet you. She makes better tacos than I do, I can tell you that.”
You told her about me?
The realization that I was going to meet his mother hit me. My stomach felt nervous.
“I’m not…I need to get ready. I look like I just woke up,” I murmured.
He looked me up and down. “You’re beautiful. You uhhm. You look beautiful.”
I was flattered, but I tried not to show it. “I do not.”
“You do.” He pulled his hat firmly and tilted his head toward the driveway. “Let’s go do it. C’mon.”
He stepped down, took a few steps toward his bike, and then paused. He turned and looked right at me, as if waiting for me to follow him.
As much as I liked the idea of going to dinner, I felt the need to postpone it for at least long enough to prepare mentally and physically. A day would be nice. Maybe two.
My lips parted slightly. I stood like a fool, open-mouthed, gawking at him and mentally searching for what to say.
I felt the need to thank him for the invitation, accept it, and then explain how I simply needed time to prepare. With a stomach filled with butterflies, I cautiously stepped off the porch and walked to his side.
I looked him in the eyes and opened my mouth. Fully prepared to blurt out all the reasons I couldn’t leave with him, I stood there for an instant, mentally fumbling with what to say.
He leaned into the space that separated us until there was nothing left.