“Ah, c’mon, there are pills you can take for your anger, and also, for your little problem,” I say in a sarcastic whisper as I point to his crotch.
His face blazes a bright red and I can’t help but laugh, because questioning a dude’s manhood always has the desired effect. I can see him mentally sizing me up, and he knows there is no way he can take me on. This guy is big, but he’s jacked up on too many steroids, and his ridiculous, air-inflated muscles wouldn’t pack a punch.
“So how about you do the world a favor and fuck off? Go work off that anger with some tweezers and a photograph of your mom.”
This time, the girl bursts out into fits of laughter, and the sound is utterly magical.
“Fuck you,” douchebag snarls. He leaves in a huff when he realizes this is a fight he’s bound to lose.
We both watch as he rounds the corner, and when I’m certain he’s not coming back, I turn to look at the woman in front of me.
During my tirade, I failed to notice that she is a total fox. She’s young, I’m guessing twenty-three, but holy shit, she’s beautiful. Large green eyes complement a head of long, brown hair which sits straightened just past her shoulders. Her full lips are the prettiest pink I have ever seen, and when her mouth tips up into a timid smile, I know I’m staring like a creepy old man.
Quickly composing myself, I ask, “Are you okay?” and make a point of looking at her arms.
She wraps her small fingers around her left bicep, as if attempting to hide the red finger marks. “I’m…fi-fine,” she stutters unconvincingly, but quickly recovers. “I’m fine. Thanks for the save.”
“No problem.” I’m mesmerized by the way her straight teeth tug at her lower lip, because in no way is she doing this on purpose.
She’s not openly flirting with me, or trying to get into my pants, and honestly, it’s like a breath of fresh air. She’s simply a hot, young, innocent girl with no ulterior motives, and no expectations to where our strange, yet electrifying encounter might lead.
I’ve forgotten what innocence looks like—how fucking sad is that?
“I’m Madison,” she says, extending her hand, and my huge palm dwarfs her tiny one as we shake.
“Dixon,” I reply with a genuine smile.
“So, do you make it a habit of rescuing damsels in distress?”
“What can I say, it’s a hobby of mine,” I reply with a casual shrug, and Madison laughs.
“Well, Dixon, thank you again for coming to my rescue.” I nod, letting her hand go as I realize I’m still creepily shaking it.
“Anytime. Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask as I don’t fail to see a small shiver pass through her body.
“Honestly, I’m okay. His bark is worse than his bite.”
I notice she doesn’t elaborate on who her assailant is. I want to say more, but for once, me, the fancy, sweet-talking shrink, is speechless. And the reason for that is because I have a feeling Madison would see through my bullshit and call me out for the fake I am.
“Maddy? Are you out here?” asks a concerned voice from behind us.
We both turn, and I suddenly have the urge to grab my nuts to protect them when I see a flaming redhead storm our way. She glares at me before focusing on Madison.
“Are you okay?”
Madison nods.
“I’m fine,” she replies, giving me a small smile as she extends her hand my way. “This is Dixon.”
Her friend looks at me, making it no secret she’s sizing me up. “Where did nimrod go?” she asks, totally ignoring me, and I smirk, as I like this girl’s spunk.
Madison brushes a tendril of hair behind her ear and frowns. “Oh, he left. Dixon saved the day,” she reveals, giving me a shy smile.
Her friend looks at me once again and this time it doesn’t appear she wants to skin me alive. “Well, in that case, it’s nice to meet you, Dixon,” and she gives me a small wave.
“Likewise,” I reply. “And it was nothing. I was just in the right place at the right time.”
Or wrong time, as the closer I look at Madison, the more intrigued I become. What is the matter with me?
“Well, regardless, thanks for looking out for my friend.”
I give her a small, polite nod, as her protectiveness over Madison reminds me of my friendship with Hunter and Finch. Madison is, without a doubt, someone worth protecting. I mean, look at her.
I can’t stop my eyes from darting over to her, and I’m surprised to see her returning my gaze. Her friend must also sense some weird stare-off going on between us, because she clears her throat, an octave higher than needed.
“Well, we better go back inside. Our friends are probably waiting for us,” she explains, breaking my trance-like stupor.
Dixon, don’t be a chump, talk to her. But what do I say? I haven’t properly spoken to a girl in so long; especially not to a girl I actually wanted to talk to. I’ve forgotten how to communicate with the opposite sex—and “faster” or “fuck me harder” doesn’t count. So like a wimp, I stand mute and smile.
“Okay, well, it was nice meeting you,” Madison says, biting her lip, lingering.
“You too. Stay safe.”
I restrain from groaning, as who the hell says “stay safe” other than your parents? I open my mouth, ready to add in a quirky response, but Madison is being dragged toward the entrance by her friend.
She suddenly turns over her shoulder and yells, “I work at The Pony Bar. If you’re ever in the neighborhood, come visit.”
Before I have time to reply, she’s gone.
What the hell was that? Madison has left me standing on the pavement, now questioning my manhood.
Like a chicken shit, I let the first girl in forever who I actually liked, leave. I need to go back in there and talk to her. I need her to see what a great guy I can be. But that’s the problem; I’m not a great guy. This week, I’ve fucked four different women, and I can’t even remember most of their names. Or faces. They all blur into one disgusting regret, one I wish I could erase but can’t.
Girls like Madison are too good for the likes of me, and I’m doing her a favor by keeping away. However, tell that to my attentive dick, who became interested in Madison the moment she opened her mouth. Yes, she’s fucking gorgeous, but the fact I didn’t see her as a conquest is what I find myself most attracted to. I haven’t felt that way since…Lily.
All thoughts of Lily come flooding back, and I suddenly remember why I was out here in the first place.
“Hey, handsome,” purrs a voice, snapping me back into the here and now.
Raising my eyes, I see the blonde bartender from earlier addressing me, inches from where I stand.
“Hey.” I quickly recover when I see her waiting for me to respond.
“I saw you inside.” She motions with her head toward the bar while checking me out.
I know I’m not ugly, and if I were a chick, I’d probably want to fuck me, too. I’ve always been tall, but I stopped growing when I shot up to 6’3”. My dark brown hair is naturally messy, always styled into a “fohawk” as one girl I was screwing called it, and my blue eyes complement my trademark dark stubble; most days, I’m just too lazy to shave.
“Oh, yeah?”I ask, unbelieving at how easy this is.
“Yeah,” she confirms with a slow nod, biting her glossy bottom lip. “Can I bum a smoke?”
“Sure.” I search through my pockets and offer her one.
As she places the Marlboro between her lips, she waits for me to offer her a light. I try not to recoil when she leers forward, pursing her lips like a fish while I light it. My horny libido tells my stupid brain that this blonde bimbo is exactly what I need to forget all about my encounter with the brown-haired beauty. They are exact opposites, and that’s what I need. This is what I do best.
“So, sweetheart. How long a break you got?”
She bats her fake eyelashes and smirks. “Fifteen minutes.”
Bending down to meet her short frame, I whisper, “I’ll make it the best fifteen minutes of your life.”