Page 43 of Whiskey Lullaby
“Yeah.”
“It’s not always about sex,fuckface.”
“You know why Max Summers had her cornered the other night in thebar?”
I didn’t care why, but he told me anyway. “She dated him. She’s not as innocent as you think, bro.” He tipped his beer back again,smirking.
My jaw set. That bothered me. “Why would a girl like her date a guy likethat?”
Trevor shrugged. “Girls like the bad guys, Noah. You knowthat.”
“He tried to fuck an unconscious seventeen-year-old girl that night at Britney’s party.” I stared athim.
“And you beat his ass forit.”
I chugged the rest of my beer and leaned back in the lawn chair, staring over the fence.Why would she date a guy like Max?“I don’t getit.”
“For what it’s worth, not everyone knew what a piece of crap Max was. Hell, most people stilldon’t.”
My phone rang again. Same unknown number. I answered it and immediately hung up. “Look, man, you like her—you like her. It’s just girls like her, they want a relationship. They want commitment, blah fuckingblah.”
The thing was, with a girl like that, I didn’t mind the blah fuckingblah.
______
The sun slowly sank below the horizon. The crickets had started early that evening, and the air was unusually pleasant for a mid-summerday.
I finished rinsing the paint from the paintbrush then laid it on the old brick retaining wall todry.
“You out, son?” John called, leaning over the fence and placing his boot on the bottomrung.
“Yeah, guessso.”
“Well, thank you for all your hard work. It’s been a mighty help to me andBo.”
“Glad to hear it.” I wiped my hands on the leg of my jeans and had started to my truck when the front door creaked open. Hannah stepped onto the porch in a pair of running shorts and a tank, shaking out a tablecloth. She smiled when I stopped at the bottom step of the porch. “You lookcute.”
“Thanks.” She looked over my shoulder at her dad’s shop. “The whitewash looksgood.”
“Appreciate that.” I swatted at a gnat. “What are you doingtonight?”
“Nothing.”
Grinning, I took a step back. “Alright, I’ll be back around eight to pick youup.”
“What?”
“You said you weren’t doinganything.”
“Well,I—”
“Nope, you want to get outta doing something with me, you’ll learn to lie when I ask you what you’re doing. A nothings always a ‘something with you’ as far as I’mconcerned.”
A smirk worked over her lips while she folded the tablecloth over her arm. “Wow, noted.” Shelaughed.
“Eight.” I pointed ather.
“I guess so,” she said before slipping backinside.
