Page 18 of Wreckage of My Life
I just laughed freely like this. I drop some money on the table and stand up, signaling for her to do the same, before Wanda gets to us.
“Have a good one, you two,” she calls after us, and I lift a hand up in thanks, but don’t look back, just drag Becca behind me.
“You’re such a caveman, Wrecker,” she gasps behind me in pretend shock.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I call back to her, but don’t stop walking until we’re outside.
We are in the middle of the parking lot now. I look around, trying to come up with an idea of what we should do next because I don’t want to let her go just yet.
“Thanks for lunch,” she murmurs from behind me like she’s about to take off on me. I don’t think so.
“You got plans for the day?”
“Well, I was going to hang out with Lena. She’s my cousin,” she explains when she sees the confusion on my face. “We just met. That’s why I came all the way to Texas. To meet her in person. She ditched me last night at that bar. I kind of thought she’d call today to see if I was still alive,” she adds, and once again, I am taken aback by how funny I find her when she drops these dry comments here and there.
My eyes fall on the sign for the state park that’s across the street from the hotel. I grab Becca’s hand and drag her that way, grinning to myself when she lets out an annoyed huff, however, she does flip flop as she follows along.
I don’t stop walking until we reach a sort of secluded spot by the river. It’s shaded and there’s a small bench here. Not too many people come out this way, so it’s perfect. My burner phone buzzes in my pocket, but I have a feeling that I know who it is, so I choose to ignore it.
“This is nice,” Becca looks around us, taking in the perfect view of the water in front of us. “It reminds me of home. We have a river like this, part of it actually goes through my back yard,” she smiles wistfully.
“Sunny, Montana?” I ask for confirmation. I remember her mentioning it last night.
“The one and only,” she chuckles.
She drops on the bench, leaving enough room for me. I take it as an invitation and sit next to her. I spread my legs wide, one knee resting against hers, as I get comfortable on the small seat that should supposedly accommodate two grown adults. Maybe small people, because this is pretty damn tight.
“You like it there?” I hear myself talking. It feels like an out of body experience. I do not make small talk. And definitely not with females, doesn’t matter if I wanna fuck them or not. This is even more complicated because I already fucked Becca. And I enjoyed it tremendously. What I’m doing with her now could be viewed as leading her on, but I feel comfortable in knowing she’s leaving in a few days.
“Sunny? Yeah, born and raised there. Lived there all my life,” she shrugs and laughs.
“Nice. You got a big family?” I am pretty concerned when I start asking personal questions, but I force myself to let it go. There is no harm in what I’m doing.
“No, it’s just me and Colt. Hence, me traveling all the way here to meet a distant family member.” She sounds almost sad when she says that.
“What happened with your parents?’
“They died the summer I graduated high school. Car accident,” she further explains, making my chest surprisingly tight at hearing that piece of information. “Colt was twelve at the time. We didn’t have any other family, so I became his legal guardian. Now he’s seventeen and a know it all,” she giggles, making me smile. “But he’s a good kid overall. He plays football, and he is very dedicated to that.”
“Nice,” I nod. “What position?”
“Quarterback.”
“Wow, very impressive.” And I am impressed, I’m not just saying it. High school football is intense and very rough on the body. He must be a tough kid.
“That’s what all the cheerleaders say, too,” she deadpans. A surprised laugh leaves the back of my throat, which in turn makes her laugh as well.
“So, you’re twenty-three then?” I ask for confirmation once I do the math. And fuck, she’s way younger than me. Seems, like the older I get, the younger these girls I fuck get. Before I know it, I’ll turn into my father. Sixty and fucking girls who could be my granddaughters. The thought is sobering
“I am,” she bobs her head up and down, looking even younger now. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-five,” I mutter, my thoughts still on the disturbing image in my head of me as an old man messing around with girls Becca’s age. Or younger. I may need to throw up.
“Oh wow,” comes her surprised comment. And really, wow.
We sit in silence for a few more moments, me lost in sudden thoughts of where my life is heading as I get older.
The cell phone inside my cut starts buzzing again, annoying the shit out of me. It’s ruining my quiet moment with Becca. I don’t ever get any quiet moments like this. I want to soak it all in. But curiosity and annoyance finally get the best out of me, and I pull it out of my inside pocked.
