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Fast Lane
  • Текст добавлен: 31 октября 2016, 02:28

Текст книги "Fast Lane"


Автор книги: Lizzie Hart Stevens



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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 6 страниц)

I FEEL LIKE A HUGE weight has been lifted off my shoulders, not having to deal with Patrick anymore. As much as he loved me, I feel like he hated me that much more. Today is going to be all about starting over. A new me. I’m no longer going to let a man dictate my life. I’m going to have a kick ass day with my best friend, and swear off men forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but for a long time.

I just called a taxi to take me over to Brea’s since I left my car there last night. When I arrive she’s already waiting on her front porch. I hop out of the cab and meet her over at my car so we can leave right away.

“Hey, Brea, have you been waiting long?” I ask as she gets in.

“Nope. Just walked out of the house.” She slams the door hard.

“Hey! What did my car ever do to you?” I snap, giving her the stink eye.

“Shit. Sorry, Lex. I’m not used to these heavy doors,” she apologizes while putting on her seat belt. “Anyways, spill the beans. How did Patrick take the break up?”

“It was kind of eerie, actually. I was expecting him to have a huge freak out and go all spazz at me, but instead he was kind of quiet and seemed really crushed. I think I may have actually broken his black heart.”

“Don’t you go feeling sorry for that asshole. There is no excuse for any of his freak-outs at you, Lex. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You need a man that is going to worship the ground you walk on. He should build you up and make you feel like a queen, not tear you down and make you feel like you’re smaller than a grain of salt.” Brea was always there to build up my self-esteem every single time that Patrick would crush it.

“You know, Bre, I think I need a break from guys for a while. I need to focus on me. Besides, why would anyone want me anyway?”

We arrive at the Stoplight Café and go inside to find all the tables full, except for one in the very back corner. The Stoplight (as we call it) is just very cozy little diner with spots to sit all along the bar. The entire dining area, which again is not all that big, has a perfect view of the grill and the fryer. You can actually watch your meal being made. It’s kind of fun and has a fifties feel to it.

We order our usual: cheeseburgers and cheese fries. Brea orders an iced tea and I order a Pepsi. It doesn’t take long before our food arrives. As the server sets our plates down, I hear the bells on the door as someone walks in. I don’t think anything of it. I’m too excited about my cheese fries. These things are amazing. And they’re probably going straight to my ass, but who cares. I’ve never been one to worry about things like that.

Brea and I are chowing down and discussing our tattoo appointment when I feel a shiver. You know that one you get when you think someone is staring at you? Yeah, that one. I turn around quickly, expecting someone to be standing over my shoulder, but there’s no one there. I must be paranoid after what happened with Patrick. Just then, my eyes wander toward the barstools to find the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He is giving me a delicious smirk.

I realize that he’s caught me staring at him, and my mouth is full of cheese fries. I quickly finish chewing and direct my gaze out the window. My face feels flushed.

Shake it off. You just got out of a shitty relationship. Men just complicate your life. Maybe you have some cheese on your face and that’s why he’s staring at you like a hungry beast that wants to lick it off.

“Earth to Lex. Are you going to finish your food? We have to go soon. If we’re late for our appointment, Josh will make sure these tattoos hurt a little more than they should. What has you lost in outer space all of a sudden?” Bre asks, glancing around the diner in search of what has me so flustered. “Ah, never mind,” she says, grinning. “I found him. He’s hot, Lex. Go say hi!”

“No!” I whisper. “Are you crazy, Brea? I just broke up with Patrick last night. I need some breathing room. Besides, I spend so much time working at the restaurant. I don’t have time to be dealing with another needy, whiny asshole that is just going to freak out at me over random things that piss him off. It’s time to focus on myself for a change.”

Brea shrugs. “Okay, girl, but you could be missing something amazing here. You never know. What if he’s ‘the one’?”

I damn near spit out my drink. “Right, Bre, like ‘the one’ is going to be the most gorgeous tattooed man I have ever seen sitting in a diner. Fat chance. I’m sure he was just staring at me because I have food on my face or something.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” she says, grinning.

“What?” I ask, looking confused.

“You do have food on your face,” she says, pointing to some cheese on my lower lip. She hands me a napkin. “Wipe that sauce off and let’s get going, Sunshine. We don’t want to keep Josh waiting. You know how he gets.”

Brea heads over to the counter as I gather my things. Suddenly, I feel the air shift behind me as I get a hint of the most breathtaking cologne I have ever smelled.

Oh God, it’s him. Stay strong, Lex. Play it cool. I turn my head to pretend I’m looking out the window at the parking lot. I see out of the corner of my eye that my suspicion is confirmed. I quickly snap my head back toward the cash register as Brea steps out of the way for me to pay.

I start to open my purse when I feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. A low, sexy voice softly says in my ear,

“It’s on me, beautiful.”

“Um, thank you. But that’s not necessary. No offense, but I don’t know you and I am perfectly capable of paying for my own meal,” I say while turning around to face him, trying to hide my attitude and sound appreciative.

Holy shit, he’s tall. He must be at least 6’4’’and built. Wow, is he ever built. And the tattoos….hot! From what I can see, his arms and even his hands are covered, along with his neck. My God, he has the longest, sexiest, most amazingly gorgeous tattooed neck I have ever seen. I swallow hard, realizing I’ve been staring at him, and nervously bite my bottom lip.

He gives me that delicious smirk again and sticks out his hand. “Hi, I’m Coen Walker. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh, Lexi Taylor.” I say, sticking my wallet back in my purse. My cheeks flush.

“Look, Lexi, I don’t just go around buying random gorgeous girls lunch.” He rubs the back of his neck. That delectable neck that’s begging for my touch.

What is wrong with you, Lex? This guy probably has women knocking down his door daily. Besides, you finally have a chance to breathe without Patrick to worry about.

“You have the most amazing brown eyes I have ever seen.”

Wait, what did he just say? Is he still talking to me?

“Um, thank you. It was nice meeting you as well, but we’re in a rush. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

“Looking forward to it, Lexi. It was my pleasure,” he says, dimples showing as he smiles.

I turn, damn near tripping over my own feet, and rush out the door to where Brea is waiting for me. She gives me an “I told you so” look.

“Don’t even say it, Brea. He paid for my lunch and said hello. That’s it! Now let’s go before…” My phone vibrates and Diamond Tattoo Studio flashes across the screen. It’s a text from Josh:

Josh: You two have about 5 minutes before I purposely misspell words on these pretty little tattoos of yours.

Me: Shit. Sorry, Josh! We got held up at the Stoplight. It was busy in there today. Leaving now. See you in two.

Josh: Make it snappy, woman! Time is money!

“That was Josh, wasn’t it?” Brea asks.

“Of course it was. We aren’t even technically late yet. Let’s go before he gets his briefs in even more of a bunch,” I say with a laugh. “He threatened to misspell words.”

We hop in the car and head to the tattoo studio.

PANTING.

Sweaty.

Spent.

My bedroom smells like sex from the past two hours I’ve spent with this chick. She gives some of the best head I’ve ever had.

I’m lying here, staring at the gray walls of my bedroom. Black silk sheets wrap around my sculpted body that I work so hard to maintain. I don’t make it a habit to bring random girls home, but after I won the race last night I was feeling the adrenaline surge. Plus, it had been a few months, and a man has needs.

I feel the bed move and her tiny arm slides across my back.

“Mmm…so what’s for breakfast in the morning?” she moans.

And there go the alarms sounding in my head. Ding ding ding! Times up!

“I don’t do the cuddling thing. You need to go now. Sorry if you got your hopes up. Thanks for a great time. I’ve called you a cab.”

She jerks back and pulls her arm away from me, then rolls off the bed and jumps to her feet in a huff. “What the fuck, Coen? I didn’t know you were such a selfish asshole!” She continues stomping around my room gathering her clothes.

“Yeah, well, you go throwing feelings into things and you just get hurt,” I reply.

“Do you even know my name?” she asks.

“No. And I don’t need or want to know it,” I say, lifting myself up to a sitting position against the headboard. I do know it, but I don’t want to give her any false hope. Easier to be an asshole now and get it over with. She tugs her shirt over her head in fury and lets out a loud, frustrated growl as she storms out and slams the door.

I don’t have time for drama queens and clingy chicks. I learned a long time ago to not let anyone get too close. I have my car and my racing to keep me happy. Everyone only cares about themselves. No matter how much you bend over backwards for them, they’re all the same.

I slide out of bed and stride over to the window to make sure Miss Drama Queen got into the cab safely. I can’t have it on my head if something would happen to her. She’s just climbing in as I glance down, and the cab pulls away.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I let out a deep sigh and slip back under my silk sheets. My eyelids are feeling heavy. There’s nothing like a quick quarter mile victory and a two-hour romp to wear a guy out.

Besides, I have a busy day planned tomorrow.

When I wake up, I have only three things planned for the day.

1. Washing my skanky sheets.

2. Getting some fresh ink.

3. Bringing home another win (minus a drama queen this time).

I shower, change my sheets, and put on my favorite black, tight-fitting t-shirt and jeans, along with my favorite black pair of Chucks. As I’m lacing them up, my stomach growls. Maybe I better add “grabbing some lunch” to my to-do list. I pull my car into the gravel parking lot at the Stoplight Café, and notice that it’s a little busier than usual as my stomach growls again. I decide to take my chances on finding a seat. I’m fucking starving.

The bells rattle against the glass door as I stride in. Right away, I spot one seat free at the counter. Perfect. I slip my legs over the red bar stool, and it’s not long before someone comes to take my order. Thank God! After reading the menu, I run my hand through my hair. I keep it long on top and shaved on the sides. Mentally, I run through my schedule again for the rest of the weekend. Worried I’m going to forget something important.

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Turning slightly on the stool, I glance out of the corner of my eye and see the most gorgeous redhead I have ever laid my eyes on. She’s wearing light blue skinny jeans with a teal tank top, and fuck if it doesn’t hug her body in all the right ways.

She’s talking to some other chick. By the sound of it she just went through a break up, but she seems relieved about it judging by the smile on her face. I can hear a little bit of a southern accent, but I only notice it when she says certain words. The two of them are sitting at the table off to my right, beside the wall of tall windows. This is perfect.

While I was so busy staring at the sexy redhead, my food arrives. I turn my attention to my lunch. This juicy cheeseburger and these fries were just what I needed.

And so is she.

I have to get that thought out of my head right fucking now.

She’s just another hot chick, Coen. Forget about her. Girls just complicate things. I wipe my mouth with my napkin and place it on top of my empty plate as I glance over to her table one last time. I have to get out of here. My palms are sweaty, and it’s suddenly getting a little harder to breathe.

Shit. She sees me looking at her. I notice she has cheese sauce on her face.

I wish I could go lick it off.

What the fuck, Coen?! Snap out of it!

I already know I’ve been caught, so I give her one of my signature smirks. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as her cheeks turn a light shade of red, and quickly snaps her head to look out the window. I grab my phone from my back pocket and pretend to check my messages while I wait for her and her friend to get up. I don’t know why, but I feel like I have to talk to her, even if it’s just for a second. I’ll buy her lunch and that will be it. Just a friendly gesture, you know, since she just went through a break up and all.

Yeah, that’s it.

I patiently wait and plan out when to make my move. I don’t want to scare her off. She seems like a good girl, so she probably isn’t use to big muscular tattooed guys approaching her in small diners. Her hyper little friend is about to finish paying, so I casually get up and move in line behind her, leaning in close enough that I can smell her hair. She smells like cherry blossoms. She shivers, and I know she can feel my breath on the back of her sexy, smooth neck. Quietly, in my most seductive voice, I tell her that her meal is on me.

“Um, thank you. But that’s not necessary. No offense, but I don’t know you and I am perfectly capable of paying for my own meal,” she says, turning around to face me. She’s a feisty little thing. God, if she doesn’t have the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen. This short, hot, curvy little redhead is looking me up and down like she wants to devour my entire body.

I can’t say I’d be against that. Maybe just for one night. I’ve been with a decent amount of girls in the past ten years or so, but never with a redhead. I’ve gotta have a taste. I smirk at her again and hold out my right hand, “Hi, I’m Coen Walker. Nice to meet you.” I pause, raising an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell me her name.

“Uh, Lexi Taylor,” she says as she puts her wallet away. I think she realizes that I’m not going to take no for an answer.

“Look, Lexi, I don’t just go around buying random gorgeous girls lunch.” I rub the back of my neck. I don’t know what’s coming over me right now, but this girl obviously had a shitty night last night. The words escape me before I can think twice about them. “You have the most amazing brown eyes I have ever seen.”

Shut up, Coen! You fucking idiot. Don’t get sucked in.

“Um, thank you, Coen.” Her cheeks turn a light shade of red. “It was nice meeting you as well, but we’re in a rush. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

“Looking forward to it, Lexi. It was my pleasure,” I say with a wink and smile. She turns around and bolts for the door so fast she damn near trips over her own feet. Fuck if it isn’t cute to see how flustered I made her, and I didn’t even touch her.

I’m losing my mind.

I pay for our lunches and head outside, hoping that I make it there before they leave. As I walk out the door and turn to where I’m parked, I hear voices. It’s Lexi and her hyper little friend. I think I’ll call her Thumper. That’s who she reminds me of. Cute, but bouncy and a bit obnoxious.

Slowly, so as to not make loud footsteps in the gravel, I creep toward my car so I can eavesdrop a little better. It sounds like they are heading over to Diamond Tattoo Studio.

What are the fucking odds? This seriously has got to be my lucky day. But this is wrong. So wrong. I don’t chase after women. They chase after me. I don’t have time for all that flowers and candy and cuddles bullshit. Besides, when you give someone your heart, it opens up the chance for you to lose a piece of it.

My appointment at Diamond isn’t for another hour. Maybe Lexi and Thumper will be gone by then.

That would probably be best for both of us.

JOSH AND I HAVE known each other since high school. I had a crush on him for the longest time, but he never returned my feelings. Our best friends dated for years, though, so he and I have always been in each other’s lives. Over time the crush faded, and now I can just be good friends with him. It was no surprise to me when I found out a few years ago that Josh had gotten into the tattoo business. His artwork is absolutely amazing, unique and fresh. I wouldn’t want anyone else designing my tattoos.

Diamond Tattoo Studio is so clean you could eat off the floors. When you walk in the door there’s a pool table in the center of the large, open room, with five tattoo and piercing stations sectioned off along the outer walls. A few of them are painted blood red, and the others are covered in rigid stainless steel sheet metal.

The door chimes as Brea and I walk in. We’re immediately greeted by Havoc, Josh’s black pitbull, wagging her tail so fast you’d think her ass would take off like a helicopter.

I bend down and give her a pat on the head and she licks the side of my face.

“Ugh, thanks, Havoc. I’ve missed you too, I think,” I say, wiping her drool off my cheek with the back of my hand. She’s about to knock Brea over with her wild tail when Josh calls her.

“Havoc, back in your spot,” he commands. She nudges against my legs, so I give her one last pat on her head as she heads over to her bed behind the pay counter.

“Well at least she was happy to see us,” I say, punching Josh playfully in the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, Lex.” He gives me a quick hug. “You know I love you, but I have back-to-back appointments today. I have to stay on schedule. Who’s going first?” he asks, while continuing to set up his station with ink caps and opening up brand new needles. I tighten my ponytail and sit down in the folding chair up against the half wall.

“I’ll go first,” Brea says, bouncing into the tattoo chair. Josh applies her stencil and has her check it out in the mirror to make sure she is happy with the placement. Once she agrees, she hops back onto the chair and Josh gets started.

We’ve been planning these best friend tattoos for months now. Brea and I have been inseparable ever since the first grade, so why not make it permanent? We’ve both always been huge fans of Toy Story, so for our tattoos Brea’s will say “To” and the infinity symbol, and mine will say “and beyond”.

I have my head down, playing around on my phone and reminiscing about my high school days with Josh and Brea, when I hear the sound of the spray bottle.

“Victim numero uno is finished. Check it out in the mirror and make sure you’re happy with it before I wrap you up, B,” Josh says, as he rips a small piece of plastic wrap out of the box and grabs the masking tape out of his drawer.

“Josh, I love it. It’s absolutely perfect!” Brea says, bouncing up and down like a little kid at Christmas and throwing her arms around Josh in a hug.

“Good, I’m glad. Let’s get this wrapped up and get your shirt back on.” Josh finishes cleaning Brea’s tattoo, and gives her the whole run down on after care and healing. He then slaps the chair twice, “Let’s go, Lex. Your turn. I know you love staring at my hot body and all, but I got shit to do,” Josh says with a wink, lifting his backwards ball cap long enough to run his hand through his slicked back hair.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still find this man attractive. Good God. But the crush I had in high school is long gone. Taking off my shirt, I straddle the chair backwards so Josh can apply the stencil. I’m glad I remembered to wear my black lace bra today. I’m sitting in a public place with my shirt off. It would be totally embarrassing if I were caught wearing one of my boring, white t-shirt bras and some hot guy walked in. Plus, I’m sure Josh would totally make fun of me.

After checking out the stencil in the mirror and giving Josh the go ahead, I slip back onto the chair. Laying my face against the back of the chair, I close my eyes and focus on the sounds of Metallica blasting through the studio speakers. My thoughts drift to Coen. Why in the hell would such a gorgeous man want anything at all to do with me? And the more confusing question, why would he want to buy me lunch?


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