by Romi Hart
I turn away from Stephen and look downwards, wondering what he means…and if maybe everything I feel is just adrenaline, just a sore ass ego that I can’t control.
“Oh yeah and plus, if you do keep chasing her I’m going to have to kick your ass,” Stephen says before he shuts the door.
Yeah, that part was expected. I guess that's just what big brothers do.
5
Amanda
I look carefully at the broken guitar, analyzing each section, placing the puzzle pieces back together in my mind. Determining what strings I need, what tools, and how much time it might take to polish her up and make her look beautiful again.
This one's particularly damaged. Apparently, the last strummer smashed her against a stage floor. Geez dude why take it out on your one true fan? Guitars are not just an instrument to me…they're lovers. They have souls. They become a part of the person who owns them. It's my pleasure to build them back up from crumbles and heaps.
As I just start to get into my trance, where I become one with the guitar and lose hours of the day…I hear voices. Angry voices. Oh God now what?
“Amanda?”
“What is it, dad?”
“I think your boyfriend’s here to see you.”
Oh not again, Nate. Although I admit the last time he dropped by with “Fake Amanda” was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Who knew the great Nate Jiggur was such a nerd when it came to mind games?
“Actually, I’m here to see you, Mister Shannon.”
I lose my smile. What did he just say?
I hurry from the back repair room to the front of the store. Jan and my father Blake are waiting and staring at Nate in curiosity.
“Nate, what is it?” I say.
“Hello Amanda. Believe it or not, I’m not here to harass you. Promise. I’m just here to talk to the big man of the house.”
“You don’t need his permission,” I snap back…
“This isn’t about YOU, kid,” Nate says with a smirk. “This is about something else. I know, as hot as you are, it’s hard to believe the world doesn’t revolve around you. But life goes on.”
I listen in uneasiness as Nate continues this “adult conversation.”
“You’ve sure been dropping by a lot, I hear,” my father says. “Interested in buying a guitar? I’m starting to think you owe me a few guitars, kid…with all the times you’ve come in to talk to Amanda. You know she’s part of our entertainment. The least you could do is leave a tip.”
Blake smiles and Nate laughs, a good sport.
"Hey, a businessman to the end! I like that. Tell you what, Mister Shannon. I've got a better deal for you."
“Oh?” We all stand by uneasily and listen to Nate’s latest drama.
“I want to buy the store. The whole store.”
Dad stares…and finally chuckles. “Yeah right. Get out of here.”
“I mean it,” Nate says without a grin. “The truth is, I’m an amateur when it comes to managing my funds. I know my career ain’t going to last forever. So I need some post-retirement business opportunities.”
Dad rolls his eyes. “So invest in real estate. This business isn’t worth crap, kid. I can barely make enough to make ends meet. Ask Amanda.”
“It’s not worth…anything.” I send Nate the evil eye. How DARE he insult my family this way. And if I’m not mistaken…I think I see a little SMIRK on his face. The gall of this man! Well, Nate, if your mission was to troll me until the point of annoyance, then congratulations. You’ve pissed me off!
“That’s not what I’m interested in talking about, Mister Shannon,” he says smoothly. “My only question is, would you be interested in selling? You let me worry about return on investment.”
“Oh no…” Dad says, shrugging off the very idea of parting with the business he bled over for forty years. “I couldn’t.”
“What’s your legacy worth?” Nate says. “Call me sentimental. And hey, don’t tell the ladies that I’m a sentimental guy. They don’t like that. But I personally think a man ought to earn back what he put into a store. I’m not approaching you with a risky business opportunity. I’m offering to pay for your retirement. To let you go home and retire early, spend time with your family. Let someone else pick up the ball. To put in sports talk.”
This catches Dad and Jan off guard.
“Look…uh…in order to even consider selling I would need…” dad shrugs at the very idea.
“How much? A million dollars? You’re selling yourself short. I want all the guitars and parts too.”
Dad’s face drops. Even with all the sentimental value in the world, that’s a hard number to shake off.
“Four million at the very least…” dad mutters, probably hoping to discourage him.
“Deak! And hey, I’m not THAT stupid, Mister Shannon. Don’t con a con man. I know it’s overpayment. But like I said, I believe a man should earn the money he puts into his business. Amanda told me about how much you work-?”
“You know what?” I finally shoot, feeling fire inside. “You’re an asshole, Nate.”
“Excuse moi?”
“How dare you. To think you could put a price tag on me.”
“Girl, get over yourself!” Nate says loudly. “This isn’t about you. The whole goddamn world doesn’t revolve around YOU! Look I get it. I already got the Go Away talk from your brother. This isn’t about you and me. This is about ME. About my business.”
“Oh right and I suppose we would all just disappear and you would still want to run this store? All by yourself?”
“Amanda, please don’t concern yourself with my business. Once I pay your father off, it’s none of your concern what I do. This is not about any special terms. This is just-”
“Screw you, Nate. The answer is no.”
“I’m not asking-”
“The answer is NO! Dad is not selling! Now get out of here before I call Stephen to come over here and beat some sense into you!”
Nate looks at dad, who is bewildered, and Jan, who’s watching our drama unfold like it’s another episode of The Young and the Restless. And back to me…ME…who’s ready to slap that smirk right off his face!
“Okay. The deal stands, Mister Shannon. Take all the time you need to think about it.”
“The answer is NO!” I yell back, on behalf of dad.
Nate dismisses himself and wanders outside the store, doing his “humble” strut. Oh yeah Nate, you’re such a humble guy! What a jerk…no…we’re not done here.
I storm out of the store and follow this prick over to his car, confronting him in the parking lot.
“Dude! What the hell? You think you’re funny? You think this isn’t major harassment? I could sue you!”
“Chill, Amanda!” Nate says, backing away and putting his hands up in surrender. “I meant what I said. This has nothing to do with you or me. I just want to buy the store.”
“Uh huh and it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re always asking me out and I always reject you?”
"NO," he says firmly. "This has nothing to do with that. My wealth manager is constantly on my case saying I need to invest in the future. I'm not saying I'm Warren Buffett. But this is a start."
“You’re going to pay four million for a music store?! Just open your own for a quarter of the cost!”
“Look I won’t pretend as if knowing you and your family isn’t part of it. Okay? Business is personal sometimes, at least in the beginning. You work with people you like. But when money comes to money, business is business. Give me some credit. I’m not buying you. I’m investing in what you’ve created as a business.”
“Bullshit!” I scream. “You don’t understand, Nate.” I almost hold back tears, trying to explain to him why this hurts. “My family means everything to me. This was my father’s dream. He built this store from the first brick up! We grew up together in this store.”
“Right. And why shouldn’t he earn back what he put into it? Like I said. Why
’s it a crime to be kind these days?”
“Because, Nate! These are real people! These are real peoples’ lives you’re screwing with! Something people like YOU will never understand. That you can’t go around buying and trading people like life is some big game. Just because you can afford to treat people like garbage doesn’t mean you should.”
I ignore Nate shaking his head.
“The last thing I want is my father to get his hopes up and then you flake out when you realize we have no future together.”
Nate finally shuts up.
“Just please…go away. Leave me and my family alone. You…you could have any woman in the world. So go. Go make that woman happy. Lavish all your gifts and fancy dinners and celebrity treatment on her. She’ll LOVE you for it!”
Nate frowns but this time stays silent.
“Just leave me alone forever.”
I turn around and stomp backward to the store. Just as I approach the door Nate speaks one last time.
“Amanda…”
I turn to him and stare vengefully.
“I’m sorry for how I acted. The truth is…I love the business. I love guitars.”
His tone shifts and becomes almost childlike. Almost introverted. Hardly sure of what he’s saying or what he believes.
"I don't remember much of my childhood. But I remember being happy when I was a kid. I wasn't rich. I came from a poor family. All this shit, this lifestyle, celebrity…it's just what I fell into. The truth is, none of it feels like me at all. I mean sure, it's fun I won't lie and say it's not a novelty. But when I think of real happiness, I think back to when I was twelve years old. My mother."
I fold my arms and listen in suspicion. He’s always playing me…
“The earliest memory, the fondest memory I have is my mother. She played guitar for me as a kid. Just show tunes, simple music, but it was amazing to me. I thought I had the coolest mother in the world, a woman who could play like a rock star. I still do, God rest her soul. And I remember how thrilled I was when she offered to pay for guitar lessons.”
I feel my anger soak back into my face. I stare at him blankly, barely believing what I’m hearing.
“Even as a little kid,” he says with a pained smile, “I still remember asking if we could afford to do that. She said, ‘Don’t worry about that. Let ME handle that. You just decide if you want to learn.’”
I listen blankly, even as Nate starts to tear up. Are those real tears? Who knows.
“And I took those lessons. But I never learned. And part of me thinks, when this football dream is over, I want to go back to what I loved. That moment in time when I was really happy.”
I can think of nothing to say but still stare him down. Still needing him to go. To drive away and leave me in peace.
“This isn’t a bribe, Amanda. This is just a foolish man and a bad investor wanting to buy back some childhood memories.”
He gives me one last glance and then walks to his car, just as eager to leave as I am to see him go.
6
Nate
I shove my way past dozens of arms, backs, chests, and heads. My team knows not to take my frantic escape from the field too seriously. I warn them when I come in, I'm going to be shoving my way past all the bodies, until I have found the shower.
My head is dripping sweat. My body is shimmering off fluids—blood, sweat, and tears—what we give to the sport we love. All I want right now is a cold waterfall in my face. A cold shower that makes me feel whole again, makes me feel human.
Because right now, high off winning our third undefeated game for the season, I feel on top of the world. My cock is harder and longer than the pigskin I threw today. Maybe I should invite some girls backstage, maybe that'll cheer me up.
I high five Matt, my bro, right before turning down the hallway and reaching the shower rooms. I slap that 300-pound linebacker so hard he actually hollers back, "Owwch motherfucker!" HAAA!
I tear off my uniform, those damn shoulder pads and boots, pants and shirt—I just want to be dick naked, just like I was the day I was born. I rip off every last piece of clothing until I come down to the nitty-gritty. I pull my Reebok under-armor off and the final piece of my ego/id…yeah my jockstrap holding back the Lone Ranger. Hell yeah my big fat dick, motherfucker, it has its own name and is big enough to have his own sidekick named Tonto! Suck my dick, motherfucker, suck my dick, Tom Brady. Suck my dick Brett Favre, suck my dick Troy Aikman, suck my dick Colin Kaepernick.
“Suck my diiiiii-?”
I do a double take and jump two steps back when I see the most shocking and unexpected sight. Amanda Shannon standing in front of the showers, wearing tight blue jeans and a red Dallas Cowboys jersey.
And staring at my dick!
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Ohhh I’m sorry,” she taunts me back. “I guess you hate people dropping in on you at work and being such a distraction.”
I stare…and then smile, happy as a fucking hobbit from Lord of the Fucking Rings. “Hey, I don’t mind at all. But in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t hide my genitals from locker room guests.”
Amanda raises her brow and smiles.
“Go ahead. Take a look. You know it’s on your mind. And we can’t really have an intelligent conversation until you take a look. Put your curiosity to rest.”
“I’m not here to stare at your…”
She stares at my erect penis, all eleven inches of that monster, and loses her train of thought.
“Ummm…” she reluctantly laughs. “I’m not here to talk about your penis.”
“Why are you here? I say, walking two steps closer, daring her to look down again. Who let you in anyway?”
“I came to tell you that my father is seriously considering your offer. For five million. And I just want to hear it from you, Nate.”
“Hear what?” I say, scratching my dick. No, not really scratching, just eager to touch it in front of her.
“That you’re not going to screw us over. If my father signs…and that’s a big IF.”
“It’s a big IF all right,” I say glaring into her eyes. “It’s a huge IF. It’s a really big and long IF.”
I smile and stare into Amanda’s eyes very proud of my Texas-sized erection that’s calling out her name.
She finally laughs…against her will. She's angry to laugh at my juvenile sense of humor. But hey, come into my workplace and you're going to see some amazing stuff.
“I want to know that you’re not going to throw a tantrum and play head games. I expect a formal contract with no loopholes…”
“I already said what I said. I’m a man of my word. I’ve never lied to anyone. I’ve never disappointed, I’ve NEVER cheated anyone out of anything.”
Amanda folds her arms and stares haughtily into my eyes. For some reason, her arrogance pisses me off. I’m going to let her have it.
"You know, I don't give a shit about what the press says about me. I don't care what you or your brother think about me. I ain't NEVER lied to anyone. Not any of the women I've fucked in this room. Not any of the girls I fucked at home or in a hotel. None of the married women I took to bed either, because you know what? They're the ones cheating, not ME. I'm a pleaser of woman and I make no apologies for that. You don't want your wife cheating on you? Then treat her right, motherfucker! All I am is a machine with two functions. Quarterback and human vibrator!"
Amanda cracks up laughing. “Just shut up, Nate. If you would shut up once in a while, you might actually seem like a decent human being.”
“You know what? I’m tired of having this intellectual argument while I’m standing here butt naked and as hard as rock. If you want to keep judging me you better do it from a distance, woman, or else I’m going to keep walking forward.”
“Yeah?” she says, taking a step back while I step towards her.
“Yeah. I’m telling you for real. Leave now.”
“Or else what?” she asks quietly.
&n
bsp; “Or else I’m going to give you the rough fuck you’ve been needing for the last ten years. I’m going to fuck the prissy little angst-ridden bitch right out of you and you’re going to actually smile for a change.”
She takes one step back. I take one step forward.
“You’re stalling. Go now.” I say in warning.
She takes a nervous swallow. Her eyes are feral. Her chest is rising and falling with deep, heavy breathing. Her nipples are pushing through her shirt.
A chill comes over my whole body. My cock grows another half an inch and my whole body flexes hard—I got one more touchdown left in this dirty, drained body.
I lunge over and take Amanda into my arms. Her eyes shoot open and she gasps for air. I push her against the wall, desperately inhaling her scent. The smell of arousal. Of breaking a sweat. Her pussy already longing for me.
I reach for a kiss but she turns away. Instead, she takes my face down to her neck letting me kiss and suckle at her shoulders. I kiss her fervently, desiring more skin—desiring more taste. I take my burning lips to her other shoulder and trace a path to her neck and downward to her warm chest.
"Uhhh!" she moans. "I don't know why I'm doing this," she says in disgust of me. Yeah, I'm used to that.
"Hmmm?" I say, rubbing my hungry face in between her covered breasts. "I think I know why. I think I know what you want."
“Uhhhh…” she sighs. Angry. Disgusted. But surrendering to me.
She waits impatiently as I lift her jersey. No bra. Just big fully engorged breasts with hard pink nipples.
"Yeah, I think I know what you want," I grunt as I lean her against the wall with my waist freeing my two hands. I reach in and tear her shirt open, exposing her perfect titties.
She groans in passion as I stuff her eraser-like nipples in my mouth. Taking turns, licking and sucking her titties like I own them.
