Chapter 7


I enjoy making people feel uncomfortable. It’s one of my many hidden talents. Wyatt blushes when she’s embarrassed. It’s almost cute. I brush my long wet hair. There’s a clump stuck in the bristles. I tie half of my hair back to keep it out of my face. Tonight I’m taking my date to a concert. Jeans or leather pants? I pull on a pair of ripped up denim nut huggers. “My ass looks great in these.” The mirror doesn’t lie.

Ernie walks in, “Could they be any tighter?” I furrow my brow at him. “What do you want?” Isn’t he supposed to be cleaning or something? “I thought I would check in with you about dinner tonight.” I pause for a moment. “I’ll just get something on my way to the show.” Ernie nods, “Very good sir.” He looks like he has something on his mind. “What is it Ernie?” He falls into my chair.

“I’m worried Wyatt won’t want to stay.” Why would he think that? “I gave her the contract to sign tonight. It’s an offer she can’t refuse. She will stay.” He puts his arm over his forehead, “Did you tell her you were going to wash your testicles sir?” He says as he sinks down further. I laugh, “Ernie if she can’t handle my nuts, we don’t want her here.” I lean over and poke his nose. “Don’t you have things to do?” He takes my hand. I help him to his feet and pat his back.

“Couldn’t you just be nice for once?” He muttered. “I was nice. That was me being kind.” Ernie leaves dramatically talking under his breath. I pull on my favorite vintage black band t-shirt.

The tickets. Shit!

I run to my office computer to print them but I can’t find the email. I slam my fist down onto my desk. Why do I always wait until the last minute to get things done? I’m a professional procrastinator by nature. Why didn’t Ernie have them printed for me? Maybe I can call them and have them printed at the box office. I tap the intercom button, “Ernie come back here and help me!”

No answer, “Ernie I need you in my office right now!” I yell into the speaker. My chest tightens as my frustration grows. I dial the ticket hotline but I can’t get a fucking human on the phone. These automated calling systems are absolute bullshit. “Agent… Operator… Zero.” I say into my cell. Nothing works. There’s still no one on the line. I throw my phone across the room as Wyatt enters. “Is there something I can help you with Johnny?” She asks me.

What the fuck would she know? “What are you doing in here? I called for Ernie.” She’s staring at me like a deer about to get shot. “Do you have a magical connection with the rock n’ roll ticket gods?” I bet not. She crosses her arms, “Have you downloaded the app?” My eyes dart to my phone on the floor. I didn’t even think of that. Wyatt picks up my cell for me. “Why would I need that for printable tickets?” She’s so fucking dense.

Wyatt hands me my phone, “Some tickets are QR codes these days.” That’s senseless. I d******d and login to the app. “Your tickets have arrived.” I tap on it. There they are. I look up at Wyatt, “Would you look at that.” At least she’s good for something. I grab my leather jacket from the free standing wooden coat rack and walk past her into the hall.

“Who are you going to see?” She asks as I begin to walk away. “The Backstabbing Rats.” I turn around and throw devil horn hand symbols into the air. Wyatt rolls her eyes at me. “You’re not a fan of metal are you?” She shrugs, “I don’t not like metal.” Whatever the fuck that means. I pull a hundred dollar bill out of my wallet, “This is for dinner.” I hand it to her.

She takes the money, “Pizza and beer it is.” I smile, “The staff will love you for that.” I tag her on the shoulder, “Thanks again”She looks confused, “You didn’t thank me in the first place.” I think back, “Right. I guess I didn’t.” We both walk downstairs together. “Are you?” I look at her, “Am I what?” She looks ahead. “Are you really sorry?” I sigh, “Why do women have to be so complicated. I said I was sorry for not saying sorry.” She disagrees with me, “No you acknowledged that you didn’t actually apologize.” Wyatt is a very confusing human.

I need to change the subject here, “I think I’ll take the motorcycle tonight. She’ll dig that, right?” I ask her. “Who?” She questions me. “The girl I’m taking to the show.” I say with confidence. “What’s her name?” Wyatt digs. “I forget but chicks dig dudes with beards and bikes.” She laughs at me, “Sure, all of us chicks dig that shit.” I watch as she tucks her hair behind her ears and puts her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

Exactly, she can’t deny how sexy that is. Wait a minute. Is she mocking me now? She’s fucking laughing at me. Right in front of my face. “You’re being condescending with me aren’t you?” I ask as we enter the kitchen. She’s all wide eyed, “No of course not. It’s a good look.” She says with her hands up. I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or if she’s just trying to appease me. Either way, I’m rolling with it. “Rock on dude. Have a good night.” She says.

“Oh I will. Have fun storming the castle.” I sneer. The sound of my motorcycle engine starting up gets me hard every time. Riding down the country roads makes me feel free. I wonder if Wyatt will think about me tonight? She probably won’t be able to help herself. I mean, how could she not?

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