by Lane Hart
Alex
“That’ll be thirty-three, nineteen,” the supermarket cashier tells me.
When I pull the last two twenties from my cheap, Velcro wallet, I know I have a problem. Like a serious problem.
“Here’s your change,” the middle-aged lady says when she hands me back six dollars and eighty-one cents.
I only have six dollars and pocket change to my name when rent will be due again in just three weeks. At least Luke is splitting the apartment with me now, but that still means I need at least five hundred dollars to cover my part of the expenses. Oh, and eating would be nice too.
I grab my three plastic bags of groceries that hold several cans of tuna, crackers, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, some squeeze strawberry jelly, various fruit, Gatorade, a couple cans of soup, American cheese slices and lunch meat. All of which will constitute the entirety of my meals until it runs out or I find a way to make some money.
For the past few weekends, I’ve helped Trick and Mina out at the safe house, but now that all the construction work is done, they no longer need me. The girfriends and wives of the Havoc fighters will handle the painting, cleaning, and decorating from now on for free.
Walking back to the apartment, I try to figure out what businesses in the area might be hiring. Since I can’t afford a car, it’ll have to be pretty close distance wise.
God, the poor life sucks.
After I get home and unpack my groceries, I pull out my black marker and draw a line through the date on the calendar that’s hanging on the wall in the kitchen. Only one hundred and eighty days to go of living a destitute life before I’ll be rolling in dough again. My father was right about one thing, after six months of being broke, I definitely appreciate everything I had back home in Maryland.
Standing on the bridge on my birthday last year, it took me an hour to come up with a plan. For the first thirty minutes, I stood there waiting for my dad to come back and tell me it was all some sort of prank. When he didn’t, I spent the second half hour thinking about what he had said and if he could be right about people acting differently if I didn’t have any money.
Deciding to test that theory, I asked an older gentleman walking his dog in the park if he had a cell phone I could borrow. Thankfully he did, so I called Savannah.
“Hello?” she eventually answered on the second try, her voice husky and sexy like she was still sleeping, which isn’t surprising since we were up late the night before.
“Hey, Savannah, it’s Alex.”
“Alex! What’s up?” she asked, sounding more awake.
“Well, I’m at the Sligo Creek Park. Could you come give me a ride?”
Instead of a definite response that she would gladly come pick me up in the Mercedes I bought her last month, she replied with, “What’s wrong? Did one of your cars break down? Where’s your guard?”
Certain that she would be getting dressed to head out, I told her, “You won’t believe this, but my dad just kicked me out and cut me off, on my birthday, of all days. Could I stay with you until I figure out what I’m going to do?”
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “Wait, is he gonna repo my car?”
That was the moment I could have assured her that her car that I purchased with my dad’s charge card was perfectly safe, and he would never take it back, but I didn’t.
“It’s possible,” I told her, holding up a finger to the gentleman and his black lab sitting patiently at his feet. “But why don’t you come get me, and we can talk more. I’m using a stranger’s phone, so I need to hang up.”
After an annoyed huff, the line disconnected; and with it, I miserably learned my dad’s first lesson.
“Thanks,” I told the man, frowning when I offered his phone back to him.
“Do you need a ride? Killer and I don’t have any plans today,” he said as he pocketed the device.
“Killer?” I repeated, staring at the dog’s calm, brown eyes.
“Yeah, I figured if someone was trying to break into the house and heard him barking and me saying, ‘Go get them, Killer’, it would hopefully scare them away.”
“Good plan,” I replied with a sad smile. “And, yeah, I could use a ride if it’s not too much trouble. I can pay you,” I assured him since I have at least a few grand in my duffle.
“That’s not necessary,” he said with a wave of his hand.
I picked up my bag and followed him and Killer to the parking lot where we loaded up in his blue Jeep. “So where to?” he asked.
“The bus station, I guess,” I told him.
Rather than call anyone else I thought was a friend only to find out I was wrong, and since my father told me I couldn’t stay in Silver Spring, Maryland, I decided to take a bus to here, Cary, North Carolina. It’s the only other place in the world with a Havoc gym. There are just two people in town who knew me from up north, and that’s Sadie and Jude. That dude and his brother Jax were always so hardcore with their training in MD that I’m pretty sure neither of them ever realized who my family was or how much money we’re worth. Sadie knows, but I’m sure my secret is safe with her. In the past few months, I’ve only seen her a handful of times because she’s been so bogged down with school.
While living on my own down here hasn’t been easy, I’ve gotten used to being frugal, walking everywhere, and having zero contact with women. Back home I took for granted the way girls were always just…around everywhere I went. That’s probably because I was easy to spot driving through the modest neighborhoods in a canary yellow Lambo or with the top down on my bright red Porsche 911 Turbo.
Walking on my own two feet doesn’t grab the attention or impress the ladies at all. And at Havoc, where I spend most of my time, all the women are taken or mothers. That’s why I haven’t gotten laid since before I left Maryland, over six fucking months ago. Even if a woman was interested in me, what can I offer her? A date watching basic cable and a PB&J sandwich? Never gonna happen.
It looks like it’s gonna be a long, dry one hundred and eighty more days. At least that frees up all my time to train and get a job now that I’ve spent all the cash I brought with me. I’ve put it off for as long as possible, but time’s up.
After changing into a tank top and athletic shorts, I jog over to Havoc to see if one of the guys will let me use their computers to start looking for work. There is no way I’m going to forfeit my trust when I’m halfway to the end of this stupid little experiment of my father’s.
He wasn’t kidding about leaving me on my own. My hermit of a sister has only visited once with Ward shadowing her, just staying long enough to laugh at my circumstances, and I haven’t heard from our father at all. Well, not since the week I moved into the apartment and he sent me a bottle of Armand de Brignac champagne with a note congratulating me on getting my first place. I seriously considered selling the damn thing on the internet, knowing the bottle was worth several grand, but I couldn’t go through with it. It was actually the first time I can remember my father even coming close to saying that he was proud of me. So, I keep the bottle on a shelf in the kitchen cabinet, a reminder of my one small accomplishment.
Although, it sort of feels like I cheated since I’ve been using the cash I obtained for my birthday bash from my father’s account up and until this point to pay for everything. That money is running out even though I’ve been stingy with it, and now I have no choice but to stand on my own two feet.
Jude, now one of the owners of this particular Havoc, is the first guy I see after I stow my shirt, cheap cell phone, and wallet in a locker, so I suck up my pride and approach him.
“How’s it going, Jude?” I ask while still trying to catch my breath from running over, knowing better than to say Hey Jude.
“Good. Just checking messages before I head to the shower. How have things been with you?” he asks.
“Same old,” I tell him. “Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow your laptop for a few minutes.” My roommate Luke has one in his room; but sinc
e he’s rarely home and I refuse to use it without his permission, I figured it would be easier to use one here.
“Sure,” he says without hesitation. “Just stay away from porn sites. Don’t want Sadie seeing that shit and thinking I downloaded it,” he teases with a grin.
“No problem. Just job hunting,” I assure him. “And I might check my email and Facebook.”
“Help yourself. I’m done for the day, so shut it down when you’re finished.”
“Thanks,” I tell him as he heads to the showers and I start for his office.
For years, I’ve been trying to get a decent cage fight but Coach Briggs, Sadie’s father, hasn’t had any luck talking to the IFC guys on my behalf. Despite all my family’s money, I’m a nobody in this sport. And with guys like Linc and Jude holding title belts in my weight class, it doesn’t look like that will change anytime soon. Even though it’s doubtful, my hope is that Coach has emailed me about some sort of opportunity after my decent performance in the team IFC competition this past January.
Taking a seat behind Jude’s desk, I use the touchpad to click on the internet icon, glad to see Jude is using the search engine my dad started with his friend eleven years ago that made him even more incredibly rich. After scanning emails for anything important and coming up empty, I log in to Facebook before searching job sites.
After all this time, you would think I would have hundreds of notifications and a few dozen messages, but nope. There have only been two messages since I left Maryland, both from my boys at Havoc, Mike and Sam, asking how things are down here at this gym. Coach Briggs, the original owner of Havoc, must have told them I had relocated for a while.
None of my other four hundred so-called friends, including Savannah, apparently give a shit about where I’ve gone or what I’m doing.
Even more depressed than I was about being broke, I send back a quick response to both guys and then close out the site to start looking for a job.
Chapter Three
Whitney
After parking in the Havoc’s full lot, I strut through the door in my “slutty dress”, as my mother referred to it.
Just inside, I lift my sunglasses up to the top of my head, so I can start canvassing the place. God, there are so many half-naked gorgeous men wandering around it’s ridiculous. The problem is that most are married or taken, and I have no idea who is available.
“What are you doing here, sis-in-law?” Senn, my sister Abby’s Hodor-sized husband, asks when he walks up using a towel to wipe the sweat dripping off his face.
“I finally broke up with Ryan, a man who couldn’t find my clit if it was glowing in the dark,” I supply with the tiny white lie as I hop up on top of the front desk, leaving my crossed legs dangling over the edge to take in all the yumminess. “You can lead a man to your pussy, but you can’t make him eat. Now I seriously need to get laid.” Even more so if my mom is already trying to set me up with a douche again.
“Wow,” Senn says followed by a chuckle. “I’m not sure whose mouth is worse, yours or your sister’s.”
“Oh, my mouth is definitely better,” I tell him with a wink.
“Anyway,” my brother-in-law drawls. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“Well, that’s easy,” I reply. “This place is always full of hot, buff guys. Point me to a single one familiar with the female anatomy, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Ha! I am not gonna help you pick some…some one-night stand. Abby would kick my ass.”
“Fine,” I huff.
Leaning backward so that I can reach behind the counter, I grab the gym’s phone off the base and then press the intercom button, all with my ass still in the air. Holding the receiver to my mouth, I say, “Attention single men of Havoc. If you like pina coladas and want to get laid tonight, please report to the front desk for further examination.”
“Oh, dear God,” Senn mutters from behind me as I hang up the receiver.
Once that’s taken care of, I jump down from the counter to see if I have any takers making their way to the front. I’m surprised when I look up and see three sweaty, out of breath, shirtless guys already lined up before me in a perfect row like good little soldiers.
“I do not approve of this, and your sister wouldn’t either,” Senn tells me with his meaty arms crossed over his chest.
“Yeah, well, anyone who has gotten off in the last year doesn’t get to have an opinion on this,” I tell him. “Now, who do we have here?” I ask as I walk up to the first gentleman. When I’m standing next to He-Man, though, I actually have to crane my neck to a painful point just to see his face. “Sorry, but you’re too big. You might very well hurt me, and not in a good way,” I tell him with a pat to his rock-hard stomach before proceeding to the next candidate.
The second guy is, unfortunately, eye-level with me, and I’m only five-two without heels! “Sorry, shorty, but you’re too small. I would probably injure you,” I tell him in all seriousness, causing him to curse before wandering off with his head hanging.
Three more clicks of my heels and I’m standing before a tall, yet not gigantic guy with smooth, defined muscles. His thick, rich, chocolate-colored hair nearly falling into his silvery green eyes is quite the contrast to his flawless ivory skin. And the glint in those eyes seems intelligent yet…a little naughty.
“You…you may be just right,” I tell him as I run a French manicured fingernail down the center of his damp six-pack. “Tell me, handsome, are you a grower or a shower?”
Grinning adorably from ear to ear, he says, “For you, I could be both.”
“Oooh, very nice,” I tell him as I eye the front of his black nylon shorts. There’s enough bulge to convince me he’s packing plenty of dick to hit all the right spots. “I think you’ll do just fine.”
“Why haven’t I met you before?” the pale hottie asks me.
“Because I’ve been suffering through a horrible, lustless relationship. But that’s over now,” I answer honestly.
“His loss, but good for me, I guess.”
“Did I mention that I have a year of unfulfilling sex to make up for?” I ask.
“That sort of pressure might scare away most men; but since I’m coming off a six-month drought, I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”
Hot and he claims he hasn’t been sleeping around recently? Hell yeah.
“Sweet. Your ride or mine, tiger?” I ask him breathlessly, already tingling in all the right places just looking at him.
“Guess that will have to be yours since I don’t have one, currently,” he replies with a hint of pink coloring his cheeks.
“Oh fuck,” I grumble as my hormones quickly deflate. “I’m allergic to broke boys who lack the motivation to be successful in life, so lie and tell me you’re just one of those Greenpeace freaks, even if it’s not true.”
“I am so fucking Green –” he starts, clearly fibbing before I silence him by putting a finger up to his lips.
“Yeah, don’t talk. Just stand there and look pretty.”
“Are all southern girls like you?” he asks, his lips wetting the skin of my finger until I remove it because it has me thinking of other damp places. “I’m pretty sure you’re the first unmarried woman that’s talked to me in this town.”
“Ha! The girls around here wish they were as awesome as me,” I tell him. “Now, can we have a little less conversation and a lot more action?”
“Hell yes,” he answers with an enthusiastic nod.
Spinning on my heels, I start toward the door and wiggle my fingers in the air to say goodbye to Senn on the way out. He’s already on his cell phone, most likely reporting me to my sister. But I’m a grown woman, dammit, not some innocent little girl. If I want to hook up with a stranger for once in my life, well, that’s what I’m gonna do.
“So, can I ask your name, or do you prefer to keep this anonymous?” the Hercules version of Powder asks from behind me.
“Whitney,” I say over my shoulder.
<
br /> “Whitney. Got it,” he says. “Mine’s Alex, if you’re interested.
“Sure,” I repeat. “Now hop in, Powder.”
“Powder?” he pauses to ask when he’s next to the passenger door. Then, before I can explain, he barks out a laugh. “The albino guy in that old nineties movie?”
“Right,” I say when I unlock the car doors with my key fob. I climb in the driver seat while Alex folds himself into the passenger side of my Audi. That’s when I glance over and realize he’s still only wearing shorts and shoes, no shirt. Guess the fewer clothes to remove is better.
“So here are the rules,” I begin when I start the car. “We do this how I want until I can’t walk, and then in the morning we say goodbye, go our separate ways, and you keep your mouth shut unless it’s to tell your friends how amazing I am in bed, got it?”
“I think I can handle that,” he replies. “Oh, and in the interest of saving time, my place is only three miles that way,” he adds, pointing to the right.
“Well, aren’t you convenient,” I tell him. “Do you have condoms?”
“Ah, I’m not really sure...”
“Yes or no, dude? I don’t want to have to put on the brakes when we’re all hot and naked.”
“Shit,” he groans, squirming in the leather seat. “We better stop at the store.”
“Fine,” I agree. What are a few minutes delay to make sure we’re safe? Even if I don’t have to worry about getting knocked up, I’m not stupid enough to go bareback with a guy I just picked up in a gym.
“And, um, I left my wallet back in the locker room,” Powder tells me when I put on my signal to turn into the nearest pharmacy.
“You’re killing my libido, Smalls,” I tell him, paraphrasing from The Sandlot, one of my favorite movies.
“Sorry. It’s just that this was all unexpected and I didn’t want to make you wait while I grabbed my things…”
“I sure hope your mouth knows how to do more than talk,” I interrupt him.
Chapter Four
