Page 14 of Call Out
“Just leave it. She’s messing with your head.”
Zoe is the stereotypical blonde bombshell. The cheerleader with a tight ass that every guy on campus wants a piece of. I see past her kittenish poses and fluttery lashes. She’s a dick tease who’s been dating, or more accurately, tormenting my buddy for over a year.
The passenger window slides open, and Jeff tosses his empty beer bottle.
“Fuck sakes, Jeff. There could’ve been a car behind us,” I snap at him, checking the rearview mirror to find a velvety night sky and a bouncing bottle on the road.
“We’re in the asshole of nowhere, dude.” He tuts and taps over Zoe’s number for the millionth time. “Why the fuck isn’t she picking up?” Jeff runs his fingers through his hair, then fists his hand and slams it into the dashboard. “We have to go back for her. If she hooks up with that prick, I’ll fucking kill him.” His phone plummets to the floor.
“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. You’ve had way too many vodka chasers to fight anyone tonight.” Jeff unclips his seatbelt, bowing his head into the dark floorboard. “You guys always breakup over petty shit. Is she really worth all this?”
Jeff snatches his phone off the rubber mat, jerks upright and scowls right at me. “Of course she’s worth it. I don’t expect you to understand what it feels like to be in love. You wouldn't know commitment if it smacked you in the teeth,” he snarls. Anger vibrates from his tense arms.
“I’m focused on my football scholarship, dude. A girlfriend takes up too much time.” I glance over at him. “And makes too much trouble.”
“You’re a fucking nerd, Danny.” The phone screen glows as he taps Zoe’s name again and waits for her to answer. “It keeps going to voicemail,” he spits out. “That’s it, Danny. Turn the fucking car around. We’re going back.”
My forehead nudgesthe glass partition. The sinful weight of regret churns inside me. I count back from ten, performing the coping tactics I’ve mastered. The haze of my mental prison passes.
I knew moving to another state, to a different neighborhood, and to a new job would never be straightforward. Meeting Viv has only given me something else to ruin. Perhaps succeeding with a woman like her is a dream too radical to wish for. I don’t want to walk away, although I’m not convinced I won’t fuck things up either.
Lately, coming back to an empty apartment has been lonely. Back home, Mom made fresh batches of cookies every Sunday. Now, the weekends are filled with regimented routines, so I don’t miss the homeliness. My parents have been through enough too. It wasn’t just me who met cruel glares and whispers. They had to accept their son’s biggest mistake.
Initially, I welcomed solitude, even if it meant withdrawing from society. I originally planned to settle in Sunnyville unannounced, so my past stayed in the shadows. Now, I’m buzzed at the idea of a gorgeous woman waiting on my couch.
A towel clings to my hips as I saunter down the hallway, all too aware of the feminine perfume luring me out of hibernation. Passing the unoccupied couch, I find an hourglass figure propped up on tiptoes, peering into a kitchen cupboard. Damn that ass. I pause, watching Viv’s honest inspection.
When she hears my low cough, her head snaps around. Lashes flick up, and she sucks in a breath. “I need a drink of water.” She snatches a glass and waves it at me. “I wasn’t snooping, I promise.”
“It’s okay.” I chuckle, covering the ground that separates us. “There’s bottled water in the fridge. Let me get it for you.”
Viv slides the glass along the counter. “Have you thought about where we’re going for dinner?”
I unscrew the cap and hum, so she knows I’m thinking. Dark brown eyes drill into the water filling the highball, like she can’t or won’t bring herself to look at me.
“What’s your favorite food?” I ask.
Her gaze remains glued to the counter. “Fish or chicken with lots of vegetables.” She sips the water, purposefully turning away from my chest. “What’s yours?”
“Pizza. The meatier the better,” I reply, closing the fridge.
“That’s more of a fast-food snack.”
“It's an all-rounder. Perfect for one person and even better for sharing.”
“I’ve never had a pizza before.” She pauses, resting the rim close to her lower lip. “I know you’ll think that’s totally weird.”
I hold up my hand. “Viv, please tell me you’re kidding right now.”
She takes a long gulp and sets the glass on the drainer. “I’m really not kidding. I hired a chef at Blossom Grove who specializes in healthy, balanced meals. I usually eat whatever he makes for the residents.”
“Pizza has all the food groups. Carbs, dairy, meat and veggies. You can even throw on the odd pineapple chunk too.” Viv gnaws her lip. This is real. She’s not even joking. “What about when you were a kid?” I quiz, utterly shocked. “I don't think I’ve ever met someone who hasn’t tried a slice of pizza.”
She juts both thumbs at her head. “This girl hasn’t.” Her shoulders bounce. “There must be something you’ve never eaten?”
I scratch my chin. “Don’t think so.” She stares at her toes. “Do you always eat at the retirement home?”
Her eyes move from the floor to my face, skipping everything in between. “Most of the time.”
