Ruined Read Free

text, I want you to call me, so be in a position to do so,” I stepped over the motorcycle, and rested onto the seat.
    “What makes you think that I am interested in texting or calling you?”
    “The fact that you are, Kelli. The fact that you are,” I said as I reached down and started the motorcycle. She was still admiring the motorcycle and studying me. It was apparent that she wasn’t ready for this to end.
    “So, what exactly is it? Not that I would, but can someone ride on the back?” nodding toward the motorcycle, she spoke over the sound of the exhaust.
    “It’s a chopper, Kelli. Kind of like a Harley, but modified. And yes, there’s an additional seat that attaches in the rear so someone can ride.”
    As Darwin pulled the black M3 into the stall beside the motorcycle, she looked up.
    “Erik, here’s your car, where are you going?” Darwin asked as he rolled down the passenger window.
    “I’m going for a ride; just deliver the car to my house. Send the paperwork with the driver. And have someone follow him, I’m not giving him a ride back on this,” I said as I pointed toward gas tank of the motorcycle.
    Turning back to Kelli, who was looking at Darwin, I spoke, “Kelli, I will talk to you tonight. Left side of the desk,” I said as I pulled in the clutch lever and placed the gear shifter into gear.
    She spoke as she was turning, and began walking toward the entrance, “Yesss...”
    Over the sound of the exhaust, the audible note of her voice was lost as she turned. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it almost sounded as if she said, “Yes, sir” I released the clutch and hit the throttle, quickly speeding out of the lot into the street in front of the dealership.
    Maybe that’s just what I wanted to hear her say.
    Yes, sir.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    KELLI. “Boys are stupid, it’s that easy,” I said, trying to make Heather feel better.
    “Well, he acted like he wanted to be my boyfriend, he was such a douche. I hope I never see him again. What an asshole.”
    “Just get drunk, Heather, you’ll feel better when you forget about him. Getting drunk will loosen you up,” I waved my arm so the waiter could see that we needed a drink.
    “Do you like my hair,” Heather asked, flipping up her hair with her hand.
    “Trim?” I asked.
    “Yeah, I had that Asian chick at Planet Hair do it,” she responded, spinning around in her chair on the floor.
    “Yeah it looks great. Your hair always looks healthy,” I said, lying.
    Heathers hair was a disaster. Her hair was naturally brunette. She spent way too much time and effort to make it the perfect blonde. Her hair was always a different shade of blonde, varying from platinum to dirty, but always some form of blonde. She may change it twice a month or once a month, but she was never satisfied. Her hair was an extension of her life. Like most girls, when she was unhappy with life, she changed her hair. And her hair was always changing.
    “I like it, it’s perfect ,” she said as she stopped her chair from spinning, and focused on me again.
    Heather had been my best friend all through high school. She was tall for a girl at 6’-1”, and played volleyball in school. She was blonde, attractive, and had huge boobs. She had the boobs since we were 14, and they were like a form of magnet to guys. Most guys just wanted to have sex with her because of her boobs. No one ever seemed to want to take the time to get to know her.
    When I went away to college, she decided to stay home and go to the local University, but she never attended. She ended up working as a waitress at Hooter’s, and now was working at a new Hooter’s type restaurant called Twin Peaks. We never hung out there, because all of the guys are perverts that go there. We usually went to Old Town, and hung out at the Pump House, and that’s where we were today.
    “What can I get you girls?”
    “Bud Lime.”
    “Vodka and water, with a splash of cranberry.”
    “What?”