First Time Lucky

by Chance Carter

  “Did he actually call you both poor and illiterate in the span of a minute or did I hear that wrong?” Jake asked as we entered the haven of the shop. The scent of burnt ozone surrounded me, and I dropped my bag onto our stainless steel workstation.

  “Yeah, well. Wes is a dick.”

  Jake whistled between his teeth. “That’s rough. In front of the girl you like and everything.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Jake.”

  I tried not to sound too harsh, but I didn’t need a reminder of the humiliation I’d just suffered at Wes’s hands. I couldn’t help that I grew up in a trailer park outside of town, just the same way I couldn’t help that my brain couldn’t process letters and sentences the same way as everyone else’s. I was overcoming these problems more and more each day, and just from looking at me it was impossible to tell that I was poor and a little dyslexic. Good thing there were assholes like Wes to point it out.

  I threw myself into the project I was working on, a stupid lamp that was going to get me a good grade and then be immediately forgotten. I tried to focus my thoughts away from Dallas, away from Wes and his irritatingly smug face.

  Away from the fact that if today proved anything, it was that I was right all along. I would never be good enough for her.

  Chapter 2

  Dallas

  The rain let up just after two. I wouldn’t have minded if it kept showering on the walk home, but Sasha always complained the whole way if so much as a drop of rain landed on her pin-straight hair.

  Living in the Pacific Northwest, I got to hear her complain a lot. Today, however, the air felt dry, and the clouds were a light, fluffy grey that didn’t herald another shower. The pavement was still damp in spots but beginning to dry, and the sun looked like it might still make an appearance.

  Sasha and Patrice and I headed out the school’s double doors. I tucked my sweater tighter around me and thought about how someday very soon I would never walk out those doors again. High school was coming to a close, and thank god. I couldn’t wait to get a job. Not that working at the coffee shop or grocery store held much appeal for me. Whatever job I got would only be a stopover, a necessary step between me and my real dreams. Broadway was calling, and I intended to answer.

  Sasha and Patrice were debating the subject of prom, which Patrice was gung-ho for while Sasha was less excited.

  “It’s just a pageant for all the preppy bitches,” Sasha moaned. “There’s a goddamn crown and everything. I’d rather be getting shit faced behind the bleachers with the AV Club.”

  I snorted. “You won’t even give the AV club the time of day.”

  “I might if they had enough whiskey to make me forget how lame they are,” she pitched back. “My point is that prom is just a juvenile waste of our time.”

  “You’re just saying that because Wes isn’t going,” Patrice commented.

  Sasha glared daggers at the shorter brunette. “It has nothing to do with Wes. I couldn’t give a shit what Wes is up to.”

  Patrice and I exchanged a look. Yeah, sure Sasha didn’t care. Like she didn’t follow him around like a lost puppy waiting for a scrap of attention. I didn’t fault Sasha for it since Wes was objectively handsome and popular to boot. It made me nervous though, especially since she wouldn’t admit her obsession and I sensed it was because I received more attention from the object of her affection. Sasha and I had been friends since junior high but she’d changed over the past couple of years. She turned bitter, even bitchy at times, and had a catty streak that made it downright unpleasant to be around her sometimes. Part of me worried that she’d continue pretending not to give a shit about Wes, but one day she’d trip me down a flight of stairs or something. I felt horrible for even thinking it.

  We turned onto the main residential street of Sitka Valley. It was a small town, though our shops and restaurants tended to thrive thanks to the influx of tourists in the summer season stopping through on their way down the coast. Wes’s father owned several businesses on this block, and he occupied a high seat in the Sitka Valley hierarchy. Personally the guy always gave me the creeps, just like his son.

  “Speaking of stupidity, I totally saw that Shane Kelly kid checking you out during the prom announcement,” Sasha slipped in.

  My heart thumped, and I tried to keep my features as neutral as possible. “Really?”

  Sasha’s eyes were searching mine for a reaction. “Yeah. You guys a thing or something? You been sneaking around in the slums?”

  Patrice sighed. “That’s not nice, Sasha.”

  “What? I’m just curious. He looked like he wanted to eat her.”

  Heat crept up my cheeks. “He’s a nice guy, but no, I haven’t been sneaking around. He would have to ask me out for anything like that to happen.”

  Sasha exploded with laughter. “Ask you out? And you would say yes?”

  “I would,” said Patrice. Her eyes took on a far off expression. “Shane is dreamy. I mean, have you seen his arms?”

  “Yeah, like the rest of him they look like they’re twenty years old. The school probably held him back a few years. He’s dumb as a brick wall.”

  “What is your problem?” I rounded on Sasha, officially over her snooty remarks. “He’s a good guy. And no, he wasn’t held back. We were in elementary school together.”

  “No word on whether he’s dreamy?” Sasha mocked.

  Patrice glared but didn’t stand up for herself. She never did. Sasha told her to jump, she asked how high. Sasha told her to stick some mascara in her purse and walk out of the store, Patrice became the world’s slyest thief.

  “He’s too bad for you anyway,” Sasha said when I didn’t reply. “He’d eat you up, Miss Virgin USA.”

  She laughed and Patrice, desperate to get back into favor, laughed too. I didn’t think it was funny. The problem with Sasha’s jokes about my purity was that I couldn’t fight her on them. I had never even kissed a boy, while she’d made it her mission to discover all sex had to offer as soon as possible. I didn’t think any less of her for the route she chose, so how was it fair for her to judge me for mine?

  “He is pretty hot though,” Sasha continued. “I’ll give you that.”

  I wasn’t sure whether she was talking to Patrice or me, so continued walking in silence.

  “Poor as dirt, but hot as hell. Maybe one of these days I’ll have a ride.”

  Two blocks away from the intersection, Sasha paused to adjust her skirt and pull more of her ample cleavage into view. Patrice and I hung alongside her as we always did, waiting for her to finish raking her fingers through her long brown hair and begin walking again.

  “Come on,” she said after a moment. “Why are we just standing here?”

  She started forward but wasn’t walking anymore—she was strutting. She strutted right past the blacked out front windows of the nightclub on the corner, Satan’s Perch, swaying her hips in an exaggerated fashion. I didn’t know why she did it. I doubted anybody was in the sleeping nightclub, and if they were they probably weren’t the kind of people we wanted to attract anyway.

  Satan’s Perch was owned by none other than Preston Gromley, Wes’s dad, and I’d heard stories of all sorts of unsavory goings on in there. Granted, lots of those stories were probably sensationalized or fabricated entirely, due to the over-imaginative and over-inquisitive minds of Sitka Valley’s teenagers, but it still made my skin crawl just thinking about going inside. I didn’t intend to still be here by the time I was twenty-one anyway, so thankfully I’d never have to worry about it.

  After we passed Satan’s Perch and nothing happened—as it never did—we came upon a squat building with “Keane Bikes” emblazoned above the door. The store windows were lit up, displaying the sleek new Kawasaki Ninja, which promised to deliver the best time a person could have on two wheels. Normally I’d walk right past and head home with the girls, but today I felt like getting a little space.

  “I’m going to stop in and see my dad,” I announced. “
I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Whatever,” said Sasha.

  “See ya!” said Patrice.

  I disengaged from the group and headed toward the front door, but I pulled off onto the little path around the side of the building. I never came in through the front door, especially not when Dad’s top (and only) salesman Rick was working. I didn’t like small talk and Rick didn’t know what other kinds of talk to make.

  The rear door of the shop opened into a back hallway, which separated the sales floor and the auto body shop. Both sides of the building were small. We had a modest but dedicated client base, and dad didn’t care to expand the store. At least he didn’t care anymore. He used to have dreams of opening a sister location the next town over, where more bikers were known to frequent, but those dreams died around the same time as my mom.

  My dad’s office was just at the end of the hall, and I braced myself, not knowing what kind of state I’d find him in. The last time I visited him at work, I found him staring at the blank wall in front of his desk. It took him a whole minute before he even realized I was there.

  I passed the auto body shop doors on my way to my dad’s office. Dad did most of the repairs, though occasionally Shane came in to work on his bike or do some odd jobs for Dad. We never talked, but I’d seen him around a few times and always wondered if I should say something. Curiosity got the better of me today, after our almost chat earlier, and I poked my head around the corner of the window to take a peek.

  Holy mother of pearl.

  Shane was there alright. He was there and then some. I couldn’t tell how long he’d been here, but it must’ve been awhile, based on the sweat trickling down his sculpted back. He probably skipped his last class. Maybe he was a bit of a bad boy, which didn’t strike me as a negative at that moment.

  It was a sight. The arms that Patrice had pointed out earlier were in full view as he fiddled with something on the back wheel of the upside down bike on the shop floor. His biceps bulged enticingly, and he turned just enough for me to see his face harrowed in concentration. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, though a few strands of it fell over his brow. In profile, he looked like a Greek god. Long, aquiline nose, prominent chin, high cheekbones. His neck was taut, leading down to those broad, sculpted shoulders that I’d admired more than once when nobody else was looking. How could this be the same high school boy who’d tried to talk to me after class today? He didn’t look like a boy. He looked like a man, hard and strong. If I had a quarter on me, I could’ve bounced it off his abs, which bunched up like frolicking kittens under his skin.

  Shane’s chin turned toward me, and I snapped back away from the window, heart hammering like I’d just run a marathon or two. Did he know I was there? I stilled and listened, but all I could hear was the muffled classic rock coming from the shop and my drumming heartbeat. My mouth was dry. My body was shaking. I needed to get out of there.

  Deciding that seeing my dad could wait, I hustled back to the outside door and into the cool afternoon air. The sun was peeking through the clouds now, and I wished it was dark out instead. I felt like anybody who saw me would know exactly what was going through my mind.

  I raced back to my house, all but sprinting until I made it into my room and slammed the door. I was completely alone.

  I shimmied out of my jeans and pounced onto the bed, sliding under the covers in the same instant as I slid my hand under the waistband of my panties. God, I was wet. It felt so wrong to touch myself to the thought of Shane, but I couldn’t help it. He looked so rugged, so tough. I could just imagine him catching me at the window, calling me into the shop just to slam me against the wall and have his wicked way with me. Sure, I was a virgin, but I’d happily give it up just to have a taste of what that hot Irish bad boy was packing.

  My fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves and I swirled my pointer finger over it. My chest heaved with the force of my breaths, thighs already quaking with pleasure. I thought of Shane’s powerful arms holding me tightly, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe. I thought of his devilish mouth nibbling on my earlobe, whispering in my ear how much he wanted me, all the naughty things he was going to do to me.

  Sure, I was a good girl, just like Sasha said, but I didn’t have good thoughts. I longed for the right guy to come along, the one who would take my hand and show me all the night’s pleasures. I couldn’t think of anyone worthier of the role than Shane, with his dimpled smile and his big, strapping hands.

  I cooed, slipping a finger inside myself just enough to make the pleasure more intense. In my fantasy it was Shane touching me, stroking my inner walls as he growled his pleasure in my ear. I bucked against my hand, moaning and shaking as my orgasm approached. Holy hell. If sex was anywhere near as good as this, then I was going to like it a lot. My thighs clenched. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The fluid bliss flowing from my fingers to the deepest parts of me began to bubble and rise, and soon I was careening over the edge of a massive climax. Since I was home alone, I indulged in a throaty scream as I came. The Shane of my fantasies liked that a lot.

  I sagged back onto the bed and gulped down a few mouthfuls of air. The world came back into focus, and I realized that I’d just masturbated to the thought of my dad’s employee. How filthy was I?

  I giggled and let my eyes fall closed.

  Chapter 3

  Shane

  Randall’s shop was my refuge. There wasn’t anything wrong with my house per se, but home was a long way away, and there was nowhere else in this town where I felt comfortable. It took me up to an hour to drive out to my mom’s little trailer in the sticks, depending on traffic, and once I was out there I was stuck. Nothing to do, nothing to see. Randall’s was the perfect in-between—a place where I could be myself in peace without having to stare at an old as dirt TV set until it was time to go to sleep.

  The money helped too, of course. And it was a place I could go to and fix up my bike whenever I needed to, which was a lot. My ’85 Honda Rebel was a good runner, but it was old. Old things fall apart. Having a garage I could putter in at my leisure was the best part of the job. Well, almost the best part.

  I was crouched over a drop sheet of tools when Dallas’s sexy figure strode through the shop doors. She didn’t spend a lot of time here, but I saw her now and then. It was always a treat when she stopped in, even if I only got to see a flash of her hair as she walked past the double doors and to her dad’s office.

  She looked particularly tasty today, her hair tied up in a high ponytail, wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a plaid shirt buttoned just below her neck. The outfit would have looked plain on anybody else, but Dallas wore it almost sinfully. Her legs were long and lean, but her hips were full, and her ass was round. Since she’d first turned from a skinny kid into a luscious woman, she’d been my preferred body type.

  “Hey Shane,” she said, smiling lightly. “Have you seen my dad?”

  I hadn’t talked to Dallas since the day I nearly asked her to prom, and I didn’t have any intentions of trying again. It backfired in my face, and I knew when to step back. She was too good for me, always would be.

  I answered her question as succinctly as possible.

  “He went out about an hour ago.”

  Dallas’s face fell, and she drew her bottom lip into her mouth to chew on it. I couldn’t help but stare, cock hardening uncomfortably in my pants. How badly I wanted to nibble on those cherry pink lips.

  “Do you know when he’s going to be back?” she asked, stepping further into the room.

  I wiped my hands on my pants and stood up, shaking my head. “He didn’t say where he was going.” Noticing the obvious distress on her face, I asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Uh...” Dallas scratched her head and gave me a sheepish smile. “Do you know anything about pedal bikes?”

  “Pedal bikes?” I cocked a brow.

  “Yeah.”

  “I know lots
about pedal bikes. Is there any specific piece of knowledge you’re looking for, or should I start just rattling off facts?”

  Dallas laughed and stepped closer, running her hand absently over the top of the workbench. “My chain came off. I think it might be broken so I was hoping to get my dad to come have a look at it for me.”

  She hit me with the full force of those baby blues, and I knew she could ask the world of me and I’d find a way to give it to her. A loose bike chain? Hell, I could do that for her with both my eyes shut and my hands behind my back.

  “Sure, I’ll have a look,” I said. “Direct me to the patient.”

  Dallas chuckled, and I followed her outside, where she’d leaned her bike up against the side of the building. As she said, the chain was hanging loose. As expected, it would be an easy fix.

  “You really don’t know anything about bikes, huh?” I asked, squatting down to start fiddling with it.

  Dallas squatted down beside me and watched my hands. “I don’t. I’m totally useless.”

  “That’s surprising. I would’ve thought your dad would be all about teaching you the family business.”

  She snorted. “Family business my ass. I’ve got no desire to learn anything about the shop. Poor Dad. Should’ve had a boy.”

  I put the chain back into place and had a check around to make sure there weren’t any other problems. Satisfied, I sat back and waved toward the bike.

  “All done.”

  “Awesome!” Dallas beamed, her face splitting open with sunbeams. “You’re a top rate mechanic.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said with a wry grin. “This was an easy fix. A very easy fix. Not that I mind or anything, but I can’t take any credit.”

  She bit her lip and winced comically. “Yikes. It looks like I’m even worse on two wheels than I am on two feet.”

  I laughed, and we started heading back into the building. “Are you going to get a bike?” I asked. “A proper one, I mean.”