“You sick fuck. Bet you can’t get her number.”
“Oh, you think I can’t?
“Shit. It really doesn’t matter. Her number won’t do you any good. We’re on our way to Vegas and she lives here in…” AJ swiveled his head around, scanning the surroundings. “Where the hell are we? Flagstaff? I mean, seriously, dude, with you living in Texas, I doubt you’ll be dating her.” He stood and said, “But hey, I’ll make you a real bet. I like being on the winning side any day, so go inside and see what you can do.”
I walked away wearing a smile. AJ called after me, “And pay for the damn tire while you’re in there. Don’t get sidetracked staring at her tits.”
I flipped him a teasing middle finger, as I opened the glass door. Mr. Right or not, girls crossed every line to be with a guy like me. This would be a piece of cake.
After going inside, I returned, sporting a huge grin. I yanked the car door open and slid in. Tapping my watch, I said, “Three minutes. Score!”
AJ gaped at me. “What? You got off in three minutes?”
“No, fucker. It only took me three minutes and…touchdown.”
“So you got her number?”
“No. I got something better.”
“You got some wood?”
“Asshole. I got an invite. You just can’t stand to lose, can you? Told you I could do it. Ha! Chew on that for a while.” I settled into my seat, puffing my chest like a peacock. I needed a minute to bask in my glory and rub it in.
AJ stared at me, waiting to hear the rest. “Well…what invite?”
“She said to meet her at the bar tonight. Said her name is Allie and she’s gonna be there with some friends.”
AJ rolled his eyes. “Dumbass. I’ll believe it when I see it. She was bullshitting you. She won’t show.” He snorted a laugh. “Thinks you’re some creeper-douchebag who wears too much Axe cologne.”
“I don’t wear too much cologne.” I turned to look at him. “Do I really wear too much cologne?” I lifted the neck edge of my t-shirt and sniffed.
AJ shook his head. “She just told you that so you’d fuck off.” He jammed the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life.
“No, seriously. She’s gonna be there. I can tell. I saw the look in her eyes. She wants me.” I grinned and clicked on my seatbelt.
“Okay, we’ll see. But the bets not over until we see if she shows. I haven’t lost yet, mo-fo.”
“What are you, black now? What’s with the black man’s lingo, ‘mo-fo’?”
He cranked the wheel and threw me a dirty look. “I’m half African American. You know that, and black comes in many splendid shades.”
“Yes, I know. I especially enjoyed your sister that weekend she came to visit from her college.
“Go fuck yourself. You never hooked up with my sister. She told me how she shut you down. So, you’re wrong on both accounts and I can speak in whatever lingo I want.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, bro,” I said. “Your coffee’s got a lot of cream in it…I’m just saying. Plus, you dress like an old, white golfer.”
He looked at me indignantly. “My look is classic. I like quality made clothes. A person’s clothes say a lot about them, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” I laughed as I teased him.
“Shut the fuck up. You shop at Champs sports wear at the mall. You wouldn’t know designer clothes if they slapped you in the face, shithead.”
“What can I say, I’m a quarterback. I have bulging muscles, unlike your spaghetti noodle arms.” I clamped a hand on my bicep.
AJ laughed and took his eyes off the road only long enough to glance my way. “Where the hell are we going anyway?” he asked, slowing the car and pulling to the curb. “If we’re gonna meet your hot date, we need to know the name of the place, and then we need to get a motel for the night...a cheap one.”
“Alright, alright.” I shifted in my seat and pulled my cell out of my pocket to start a search for a cheap motel.
“What’s the name of the bar we’re supposed to meet her at?” he asked as I scrolled.
Without looking up, I said, “The Beaver Street Brewery…”
Before I could finish he cut me off. “Seriously, dude? Beaver Street?”
“I kid you not.” I looked up from my phone. “That’s what she said.”
“Argh.” AJ groaned.
“What?”
“That’s gotta be a made up name. She really did just tell you a bunch of bullshit. There can’t possibly be a bar in this town called, Beaver Brewery. Nobody would name a drinking establishment...Beaver.”
I’d been frantically tapping on my phone, looking up the brewery name to prove him wrong, but I was beginning to think he was right. Maybe everything Allie had said really was a bunch of bullshit.
Beaver Brewery.
I bit my lip. It certainly did sound suspicious and my hopes were falling quickly. Then I found it. Triumphantly, I held out my arm showing him the glowing screen of my phone and said, “Ha! There. See that? Beaver Street Brewery, 11 Beaver Street. In yo face! She’s gonna be there and I’m gonna win the bet. Be prepared to cry yourself to sleep tonight, my friend…” I glowered and wagged my head, teasing him with his own words. “Mo-fo.”
On the outside, I was all confidence and machismo, but on the inside I feared AJ was right. Allie was gorgeous and I wanted to meet up with her, but I wondered if she was even attracted to me. Why it mattered, I didn’t know.
It shouldn’t.
I was no stranger to getting chicks and my usual MO was to have fun then cut them loose once the sun came up. I had the look they all liked, well-defined physique, deep blue eyes, strong jaw, and I wore my hair in a modern cut with the sides shaved, but the top long enough for a lock to fall in my eye if not smoothed back, or sometimes I’d buzz it all off for football season. Usually, picking up girls was easy, but this new conquest, Allie, was a bigger challenge than the others. She didn’t fall all over me the way others did. No, quite the opposite. She seemed disinterested and annoyed with me when we first met. Then she threw me that hot look as she walked past the car. I couldn’t figure her out. First she was cold, then hot. The fiery look in her dark blue eyes piqued my desire and at the same time, dared me to take what I couldn’t have. Suddenly, the silly bet between AJ and me shifted and there was a new challenge. Now it was between Allie and me.
I had to have her. Even if only for one night.
2
Cam
Sitting at a heavy, oak table at the Beaver Street Brewery, AJ and I watched as our waitress approached, carrying two frosted mugs of beer on a tray. A thin sheen of ice crystals on the outside of the glass dulled the amber ale’s color, as if the beer inside—a gift from God in my opinion—had an angelic halo.
We were lucky. We found a cheap motel within walking distance from the bar and checked in before coming here. My gaze dropped to my watch and I wondered if Allie and her friends would show. It was past 10 p.m. I ran my hand through my hair, pushing back a stray lock.
The waitress placed the cold mugs on the table with a friendly smile and we told her to keep the tab open. After she left, my mind drifted back to Allie and our bungled attempt to be heroes at the gas station.
Before I had much time to think, AJ’s words pulled me out of my thoughts.
“She had nice tits.”
“Yeah, I saw you eye-fucking her when we rushed in to save her from that thief.” I assumed he was referring to Allie.
AJ’s beer mug landed on the tabletop with a thud. “I was talking about our waitress, numb nuts.”
“Oh, the waitress? Yeah, she has nice tits too. More than a good handful, in my estimation. They say the perfect size fills a champagne glass, but I say, no. The perfect size fills a rice bowl at Panda Express.” I leaned back and threw him a disgusted look. “Is that all you think about, tits and ass?”
He was eyeing Allie earlier. I saw him, but why would that bother me? All men were dogs. Everyone knew that,
and I didn’t even know this girl. So why’d I even care?
I downed a large gulp of my beer and said, “There’s more to life than tits and ass, you know. Women are more than just their bodies. They have brains and a personality, you caveman.”
I was quoting stuff I’d heard in my college classes, pontificating about women and culture, trying to impress my friend, but the truth was I loved the female form and every one of its magnificent curves. Truth be told, I believed that women were God’s gift, not beer. I had to keep it a secret though, lest all the women I met discovered the truth. Yup, I was a sucker for each and every one of them. But if women knew this, then they’d know my game, have an unfair advantage. A nice handful of tit, or slapping a firm round rump, always drove my cock straight to the sky. But sometimes it was more than just the physical; it was the overall package. Like with this girl, Allie. She was so far from typical. The hair, the eyes, especially her eyes, and the way loose strands of hair fell down around her face. She had the most seductive look, like she’d just been fucked hard and rough.
And I liked that.
A lot.
I wanted to fuck her. When I was in the store talking to her, I swear, it felt like an electric current jumped the gap of space between our bodies, and lit into me. And I’d never felt that before.
But I’d never tell. I’d never give away my secret and let women know the power they had over me. I couldn’t let emotions, my excited cock, or anything ruin my plans for my future in the NFL.
I looked over at AJ. I could see that he wasn’t the least bit impressed with my lecture.
“You and your philosophies of life. What about, ‘no girls, no commitments’? How does your latest heartthrob fit into that scheme?” AJ asked.
I pulled in my chin and blew out a breath. “Pfft.” I waved a hand in the air. “You mean, Allie? I’m stickin’ to my motto, man. Don’t have time for a relationship. Not while I’m trying to make the pros.” I leaned my elbows on the table. “That shit just drags you down. Girls get all demanding. Want to have a career and live near their job, or wanna live near their mom or sister or some shit like that. I’m telling you, I’ve seen this shit happen, and I can’t be tied down like that. No siree Bob, gotta be free. Go wherever the NFL takes me. No commitments, my friend, not now.”
“You don’t know shit,” he said. “You never had a real relationship.”
“Bullshit.” I straightened in my chair and slapped a palm down on the table. “What about Monica?”
“You broke up with Monica,” he said, his voice flat.
“I never broke up with Monica.”
“No, you just started banging Kim.” He took another drink of beer.
“Well, a guy’s gotta keep his spontaneity,” I said.
AJ was alluding to my last relationship disaster. At the time, my head was so far up my ass, I didn’t even know it. In my sophomore year in college, I had a long-time girlfriend. Got all tied up in that shit. Thought I was in love, and maybe I was for about—ten seconds, although AJ will swear it was longer, and I admit, I was pussy whipped. Then after a couple months, it all became so complicated. It started with her texting every five minutes, demanding to know what I was doing, who I was with. She made me crazy. No, she made me fucking insane, and in the end, I had to break up with her just to keep my sanity.
This year, my junior year, I decided to go for my dream. I got an agent, put my name on the draft list for the NFL and was determined nothing would get in the way. Then I was invited to the NFL Scouting Combine in February, a rather dehumanizing experience, to say the least. Talk about feeling like a piece of meat. I was measured and tested a million different ways for coaches, general managers, doctors and scouts to assess my readiness and skills. Implications of an athlete's performance during the Combine could affect their draft status and salary. An athlete's "draft stock" increased based on superior measurable qualities such as size, speed, and strength.
But I was gonna do it, go pro, and hell, I could finish college later. I was impatient and headstrong, and maybe that was part of what made me a good football player. It wasn’t that college was difficult; the subject matter came easily to me, but I was convinced I was wasting my time in class, when I could be in the NFL doing what I loved to do, play football.
After I witnessed my buddy, Sean, suffer a knee injury in a game last season—that was it. I made the decision to put my name in the Draft. I couldn’t waste another year wondering if my dream, too, would be killed by an injury. If it’s gonna happen, yeah, it’s gonna happen, but I’d rather have it happen while on a professional team, instead of a college team. At least then I’d have no regrets.
And then there’s the whole issue with my mom. She was always comparing me to Ryan. I had to prove to her that I could be better than my older brother, the Marine. In her eyes, nothing trumps being a Marine, but she’s wrong. That worked for him, for his life’s path, but this was my life, and I had to live it my way.
Plunging a hand into his pocket, AJ retrieved his phone and noted the time. “Well, motherfucker, guess I won the bet. Looks like you’re buying the drinks tonight, my friend.”
“Not so fast, Spidy. You snatched up that drink like you threw a spider web out of your fucking wrist. Take it easy. She’ll be here, she’ll be here.”
I raised my glass and drained the last of my beer. “When she shows, you owe me two drinks.”
“When she shows? You mean, if she shows, and two? No way.” A look of indignation crossed his face. “What for?”
“One for my scoring with the hook up and one for her following through here at Beaveropolis Brewery.”
“You’re just trying to find a way to mooch off of me, you cheap bastard.”
“Look who’s talking, Mr. I Can’t Afford a Decent Ride Cause of Daddy.”
AJ flipped me the usual middle finger response and threw back the last of his beer. Just as his mug hit the table, I elbowed him and jerked my head in the direction of the door.
There she was, Allie, dressed in black and metal studs, strutting it like a runway model for BDSM magazine. She was flanked by three of her friends, a guy and two girls.
Damn.
She looked delicious enough to eat, long black hair loose and flowing. As she moved, wisps floated from her face as if blown away by her radiance. Her eyes were lined, dark, and she wore cherry red lipstick on plump, parted lips. Just the sight of her, and I about shot a wad in my pants.
I raised a hand to signal her. My eyes raked up and down her body, feasting on the patch of bare skin between her top and the waist of her short black skirt. Being a guy, I don’t know the name of the short tops girls wear, but this one looked like a metal-studded bra, but with slightly more fabric.
Our eyes locked across the room. She gave me a slight head nod and led the way as they grouped into a v-formation, Allie on point. Clearly, she was the leader of this entourage, commanding, powerful and goddamn hot as hell.
Her eyes drilled into me as she closed the distance to our table and I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to. There was one hell of a connection going on between us. I tried to ignore the little voice in my head barking a warning, “Run, run for the hills, man!” I stared, in a trance. I was tripping, freaking falling for those eyes and everything else about this goddess.
With eyes still glued to her, my victory speech dribbled out of my mouth. I couldn’t even look at AJ when I spoke. “I won. Looks like you owe me two pitchers of beer, bro.”
“Pitchers? Hell, no. One glass…”
I heard him talking, attempting to disrupt me from my fantasy, flinging a string of lame complaints in my direction, but I wasn’t listening. I was lost in a daze; captured by Allie’s presence, already imagining how many different positions I could fuck her in.
She stopped at the edge of our table, her three friends at her side and stepped forward. With my jaw hanging open, I kicked AJ under the table to shut him up so my goddess could speak. He was whining like a little bitch ab
out something or other.
“Hello,” Allie said.
I clamped my jaw shut and popped up out of my chair to greet her. “Allie! You made it.”
“Of course. I said I’d come. And I always keep my word.” Her voice was smooth like flowing water, her eyelids heavy with thick, black lashes and narrowed slightly as she spoke. How could AJ think this beauty had a snarky attitude? Didn’t he see what I saw in Allie? Didn’t he hear the purr in her voice, like I did?
AJ stood and said, “Great. Everybody’s here so, let’s all sit and have a beer.”
Once again, what AJ said barely registered, and I spoke directly to Allie. “Please, sit down everyone. And Allie, introduce your friends.” I really didn’t care much about meeting her friends, but it was the polite thing to say, so I motioned to the empty seat in front of her. I counted the chairs and realized there weren’t enough. Before I could move, she was already pointing and directing her friends where to sit, the assertiveness I’d sensed earlier in full throttle now.
Feeling useless, I melted into my chair. For some girls, this would come across as bossy, or bitchy, but I liked Allie’s commanding demeanor. For some odd reason, it made the blood rush to my cock.
Allie motioned for the one girl to sit to her right. “This is my friend, Jen,” she said, as a petite girl with big eyes lowered herself onto the wooden chair. I could see that AJ was already studying Jen, evaluating her for the conquest, as guys often do. It was obvious the other two friends were together as a couple, by the way they stood close to each other, arms winding around each other’s waists. So it looked like AJ was in luck.
Allie turned to the guy and said, “Matt, grab a couple more chairs.” Before he turned to snag some extras, he paused to smile a hello to AJ and me, and Allie introduced him. “This is Matt…and Stephanie. You can call her Steph.”
Though I’d rather look at Allie all night, I shot a glance at Steph and Jen. Neither one was dressed as provocatively as Allie, not so much bare skin and silver rivets, and wearing a few more color options other than black. I didn’t mind. Both girls were pretty, but paled in comparison to Allie’s stunning looks.