Chasing Luck

by Brinda Berry

  He glares at me for another second and leaves.

  * * *

  “I don’t see what’s wrong with my truck,” Ace mutters.

  “Nothing. I want to play my music and your vehicle doesn’t have an audio jack. You’ll get comfortable.”

  “Like a whore in church,” he says under his breath.

  No one has driven the silver Mercedes since JT’s death. We’re on the interstate and I plug in my music player. The music replaces what would surely be silence for the first hour until Ace reaches over to turn it down.

  “Can we talk?” he asks without taking his eyes off the road.

  “What about?”

  “Are you and this Collin guy serious?”

  I grimace. “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m as serious as venereal disease.”

  I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that.”

  “Did anyone ever have the talk with you?” he asks in mock seriousness.

  I throw a travel pillow at him. “I am not going to merit that with an answer.”

  “Hey … driving here. Not cool,” he says, but he’s smiling. “Since you haven’t dated, according to Billy, then I’m assuming JT wasn’t worried about you and guys.”

  “JT wanted me to date. But I just … didn’t leave the house much. What about you?”

  “What about me?” His eyebrows lower.

  “Do you have a girlfriend or anything? Mrs. Prata said you never bring any home.”

  “Not that she knows about.” He rubs a hand down the back of his head. He raises one eyebrow at me when he gives me a sidelong glance.

  There’s a definite sensation of being kicked in the chest that I fight to disguise. “Oh.” I manage to say the word with an offhandedness I don’t feel.

  “No,” he says. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Why not?” I’m so relieved the words pop out of my mouth. “Wait. Don’t answer that. I’m asking nosey questions.”

  “It’s okay.” He gives a shrug. “I date and have a good time. But I’m not boyfriend material.”

  “I think you are.”

  He frowns instead of acting like I’ve given him a compliment. “You’ve only seen me at my best. Most of the time, I’m surly, anal retentive, and work-obsessed. Plus I can be an ass when I want to get my way.” He leans his head to the side as if thinking.

  “I’ll agree with that.”

  He laughs, a sudden sound that tickles my insides. “I swear. I love how honest you are.”

  “Tell me about college. Didn’t you meet girls in your classes?”

  “A few.” He stares ahead and pushes the cruise control buttons. “But I didn’t go to class to meet girls.”

  “Yeah. The man has a plan … I know, I know. I just thought there’s probably a lot of, well you know, flirting and stuff in college.”

  “Uh hmm.”

  “So would you flirt with me if I were in class with you?”

  His hands tighten on the wheel. “Exactly what are you asking me?”

  “Nothing. I’m just curious.”

  He snorts. “I flirt with you now, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I thought guys flirted with girls to get them into bed.”

  “That’s not why I flirt with you.” He shifts a little and glances at me. “You know that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why what?” He looks genuinely confused with his creased forehead, as he splits his attention between the freeway and me.

  “Why don’t you want to sleep with me? You think I’m unattractive? Or maybe I’m not your type?” I’m surprised by my own boldness and even a little empowered.

  “No,” he mutters. “You are not unattractive. And that has nothing to do with it.”

  “Of course it does. Have you ever slept with a girl you thought was ugly?”

  “Time to change the subject,” he says. “You want to talk about college? Tell me about MIT. What are you going to study?”

  I groan. “I told you I’m not going. That was all JT’s idea. He wanted me to go to his alma mater and major in computer science. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  He rakes one hand through his hair, spiky pieces standing straight up. “Well, we’re not going to talk about my sexual preferences.”

  “I’m only trying to understand guys.” I state this matter-of-factly. The truth is I only want to understand him.

  “Men are very simple. You can learn everything you need to know in less than a half-hour.”

  “You’re not. You are very complicated.” I nervously tug the edge of my shirt. “And people are never simple.”

  “Guys.” He does a little finger drumming on the steering wheel. “Most want to be the best at something. They don’t like to talk all the time. They want to do.”

  “You know what? Nevermind. I didn’t ask you to reveal your innermost secrets but I also didn’t expect info I can get from an Internet quiz. I thought you might tell me something about you.” I look away from him to the scenery we’re passing.

  “That’s not what you said. You asked about guys. About wanting to understand the male species.”

  “You’re right. I was digging to understand your philosophy … how you feel about relationships.”

  I continue to face away from him. We drive for miles in silence, the music volume low but not off.

  “About me, huh? I can’t see myself having a family, kids. I didn’t have a great time growing up.” His words are easy, a factual account, not an emotional one, judging from his tone.

  I turn to look at him, but he’s focusing on the road. Nothing about the expression on his face indicates he’s even spoken.

  “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I should have guessed since you mentioned your brother and mother…” My playlist begins to grate on my nerves, the current happy-go-lucky song awkwardly fills this moment. I turn the volume all the way down.

  Ace gives me a sidelong glance. “No need to get all sad for me. It’s only a fact. No reminiscing for me about the good old days. I only look ahead.”

  He’s a little too blasé about his statements.

  “You haven’t mentioned your dad much.” The words are out of my mouth, unchecked. I study his reaction. I’m surprised to see a broad smile blossom.

  “My dad was great. He was a Marine.” I can see how proud he is in the last statement. The smile fades a little but not completely. “He died when I was a kid.”

  Died. I lean my head back against the seat. My mother’s face flashes in my mind. And another flash of JT standing up in the restaurant, telling me not to move.

  The memories of loss flicker like an old movie reel with cracks in the image and jerky movements. I glance over at Ace, and he presses the blinker to exit the freeway.

  “How did it happen?” I ask.

  “He was stationed in Afghanistan. Enemy fire. He’d been home for a couple of weeks right before it happened. I was seven.”

  “That must’ve been tough on your family.”

  He grimaces then. “Yeah, well, for some. Tougher on me and my brother than my mother.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Back then, she escaped into a bottle. Joe and I had to stick around in the real world.”

  I reach over and squeeze his arm. “Oh Ace.” My throat aches from the tension, and I’d give anything to throw my arms around him.

  “Time to eat. I’m starving,” he says in a too-happy voice and moves his arm to turn the steering wheel. I allow my hand to drop away and don’t indicate that he’s hurt me with the action. He steers the car into a restaurant parking lot.

  “Come on.” In seconds, he’s out of the car and walking to the restaurant door. He waits and opens it for me without making eye contact.

  Inside, the restaurant vaguely resembles what I’ve seen of truck-stop scenes in movies. There’s a grocery section at the far side of the room, and a cappuccino and coffee dispenser near our table. I’m too upset over our conver
sation to complain about his choice in eating establishments.

  We sit on the hard plastic bench seats and a waitress takes our order.

  “So,” Ace says. “Tell me about this JBQ concert. Number two on the purple pad.” Ace moves the pegs in some sort of wooden triangle game left on the table.

  “It’s Jelly Bean Queen. Collin has tickets. They liked the podcast and said we could go backstage.”

  “You’re going to a concert.” Ace shakes his head. “I can’t let you go off with some strange guy. This is a big step for you, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Hey. I’ve known Collin for years.”

  “Online. Yes, we are talking online. How do you know he’s not some psycho podcast pervert planning your—”

  “Could you use a few more Ps?” My joke doesn’t even earn a smile from him. I can understand why he might be concerned. I certainly am—but not about Collin. I’m not sure if I can handle the crowd of a concert.

  “I’ll be back. Restroom break.” Ace rises and walks past me to somewhere beyond the restaurant section and shelves of grocery items.

  I pull my cell phone out of my bag and see a missed call from Teddy. A loud country song begins to play from a speaker somewhere and I push the button to return the missed call.

  “Hello,” a voice answers through a static reception.

  “Hey, Teddy. It’s Malerie. I missed your call,” I yell to be heard above the volume of the music. I tilt my head and see the culprit—a speaker hangs from a wire above our table.

  Teddy doesn’t respond and it takes several seconds before I realize one of us has dropped the call. I hit the CALL button again and look around for Ace. There’s no way I can hear, so I grab my bag and head for the door.

  Holding the phone against my ear, I walk outside to blissful non-country music land. “Teddy?”

  “Hi Ma … rie … call you … foun…”

  “You’re breaking up. Teddy?” I wait and press the phone against my ear harder. “You still there?”

  I jump when a voice too close to my head speaks. “Hi. Want to use my phone?”

  Two guys have appeared from nowhere, one on each side of me. One guy holds his phone out to me, even though I’m already shaking my head no. He grins and flips a toothpick in his mouth to the opposite corner.

  “No, thanks,” I say with all the calm I can muster. I leave my phone pressed to my ear. I try to ignore them but they’re not leaving.

  “Teddy? You still there?” I ask and hope the strangers will move on.

  I step forward to walk past Mr. Phone Guy, and he moves with me.

  His friend pushes a brown cowboy hat back in a miraculous balancing act on his head. “Can’t get no signal where you’re standing. Here. Come by my truck. I used my phone beside it a minute ago.”

  He grabs my upper arm and I freeze. “Let go.” I want my voice to be louder, stronger, meaner. I suck in all the air my lungs can manage. “Get. Your. Hand—”

  Ace appears from nowhere in front of me, his eyes slitted and furious. He slams a fist forward.

  There’s a loud pop and Phone Guy’s head jerks back once. He backs away and falls onto the concrete behind him. I’m too stunned to do anything more than stand there, my mouth falling open.

  The guy wearing the cowboy hat takes one look at Ace and pivots into a run toward his truck.

  “What was that?” I gape at Ace who has the look of a madman, a step away from snarling.

  The waitress who took our order stands framed in the open door. “I see you found her. I don’t stand for trouble here.” She glances at Phone Guy, who is bent over with blood dripping from his nose. “I’m calling the police,” she states in a gravelly voice. “Go on. Get out of here.”

  “Come on,” Ace says through gritted teeth and grabs my hand. “We can eat later.”

  He whisks me into the silver Mercedes without a backward glance. “You should’ve been screaming your damn head off for me.”

  The tires squeal as we pull out of the parking lot and onto the road.

  I latch my seatbelt. “I was fine. I told him to let me go.” I’m shaky but hope Ace can’t tell.

  “There were two of them. Did you notice? Two, Mal,” he yells. “Two fucking rednecks.”

  “I saw.”

  He steers to the shoulder of the road and hits the brakes. “No. You don’t see. This is how girls disappear. One minute I’m taking a piss and the next you’re just gone. Jesus. Do you have any idea how I felt? You don’t just walk off and—”

  I reach over the console and put my hands on his shoulders. “Shh … I’m fine.”

  And that’s when he kisses me.

  22

  Ace

  “Damn, girl. The game is up. All bets are off. You stole my win. I forfeit my heart.”~ Jelly Bean Queen

  Malerie’s lips taste of mint, softness, and coming home. I slip my tongue into her mouth and the sound she makes is enough to set my world on fire. Blood and desire rush to places not accommodating while seated behind a steering wheel. My hands move of their own accord to the base of her neck, and I smooth my palms against her silky hair to pull her closer.

  The click of a seatbelt registers, a reminder that I’m in a car on the side of the freeway. A chime sounds, loud and annoying and way too persistent.

  I reluctantly pull back from her lips a slow centimeter at a time, my breath mingling with hers. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  “We should so do this,” she says while perched halfway onto my seat.

  She inches to press against me, unfettered by her seatbelt now, and I’m at her mercy. At her mercy because I want to touch every inch of her but my hands only glide down her back to her waist.

  “It’s a bad idea.”

  “It’s a wonderful idea,” she murmurs close my lips.

  “Mal,” I say, my voice thick and frustrated as I sit back in my seat, belt still strapped against my chest. I exhale, thinking I might rid myself of this urge to undress her right here on the side of the road.

  A pulse beats rapidly in her throat and I can’t think of anything but running the tip of my tongue along that spot. For this reason, I don’t unbuckle my seatbelt.

  I lean my forehead against hers and close my eyes. “Bad idea or not, I can’t help myself. You’re making me crazy. You have no idea what went through my head when I got back to our table and you weren’t there.”

  We sit, both of us breathing unsteadily, as we don’t move or think. A semi-truck passes close on the freeway, and the car moves against the wind it creates.

  “I’m sorry. I called Teddy and I couldn’t hear him,” she says. “Then I went outside and those guys were there.”

  I rub my hand over my forehead. “Okay. And what did Teddy say?”

  “The call dropped. I’ll call or text when we’re back on the road.”

  “What’s on the agenda once we get to Chicago? Straight to the hotel?” I allow my head to fall back against the seat and raise my eyebrows. It’s a good thing she can’t read my mind.

  She frowns, her bottom lip out in an adorable pout, and sits back in her seat. “I texted Collin our arrival time. He wants us to meet him at a dance club.”

  “He knows I’ll be there with you?” I can’t help my grin at thinking I’m probably not welcome. Malerie’s fooling herself if she thinks this guy will be overjoyed at my presence.

  “For the last time, we’re friends. That’s it. We’ve never met in person and I wanted to meet him. We’ll check in to the hotel, change, and then meet Collin.”

  I nod at her. “Seatbelt then. Let’s get on the road.”

  She looks out the window and not at me. “You’re not going to push me away again, are you?’

  I get back on the freeway before I answer. “No,” I say, not willing to add more.

  We drive into Chicago traffic and Malerie gives me directions to the hotel. I argue with her briefly about self-parking in the hotel’s garage versus the expensive valet parking and then
I’m carrying her mammoth suitcase and my single duffel into the hotel.

  At the registration desk, Malerie gives her name and credit card over to the desk clerk and I wait for her to sign the check-in paperwork. Inside the elevator, I admire her in the mirror in front of us.

  She glances up from rummaging in that enormous purse she carries and we make eye contact that is so electrical, I swear the air buzzes with current. Her face and figure are perfect, but it’s more than the fact that she’s hot. It’s the fact that her eyes are like deep pools, mirroring everything she thinks. She bares her soul to me in every glance. A shock of pleasure runs the length of my body as I stare and she blushes.

  Her thoughts are running the same course as mine and I know this is why her cheeks are pink. She’s bold and aggressive one moment and so very innocent the next. I turn and step toward her and the elevator door opens.

  “Room numbers?” I put my hand out to hold the side of the closing elevator door for her.

  “711.”

  We walk slowly down the hallway until we reach the room. “Where am I?”

  She doesn’t answer me for a beat. “I only have one room. I didn’t know you were coming, remember?”

  I can’t breathe for a second.

  “But it’s a suite,” she adds as if it makes a difference.

  She inserts the key card and opens the door to the room. We walk through an entry space and into the sitting room. I can see the king size bed in the next room. I’m not sure what she expects or wants, but my body temperature rises five degrees at the images running through my head.

  I feel sixteen again and ready to get it on with my prom date in the back of the car I’ve borrowed. And then again, that’s not accurate, because I wanted a good quick lay back then and I want to worship every inch of Malerie. She doesn’t deserve less than that.

  I want to drive into her so sweetly she’ll never want to be with anyone but me and to know that only my body can please her.

  I want her to know she’s mine and she’ll call my name in her dreams.

  I want her.

  “I’ll put the bags away,” I grunt and manage to sound pissed off instead of tortured. When I turn around, she’s there.