Cocky Bastard
Page 10

 Vi Keeland

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I hesitantly ran the tip of my tongue along his finger. It tasted like grape Kool-Aid or something. “It’s sweet.”
He opened the paper bag and took out one of those Pixy Stix with powdered sugar inside and threw it at me. “Your cocaine, madam.”
Relief washed over me. I also felt stupid. “Pixy Stix? You like these?”
“I love them, actually.”
“That’s pure sugar. I haven’t eaten one of these since I was a kid.”
“They were all out of Fun Dip, so these had to do.” He looked down. “I can’t believe you thought I was snorting coke. I’m not perfect by any means, but I’ve never done drugs in my life.” Chance looked seriously hurt by my assumption.
I still hadn’t started the car. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. It’s just…I don’t really know you.”
“So, get to know me,” he said softly.
We were silent for a while before I spoke, “Why are you headed to California?”
“I live there.”
I knew what I really wanted to ask but wasn’t sure why it mattered so much. My heart started to pound. “Who were you talking to on the phone this morning?”
He looked startled by my question. “What?”
“I overheard your conversation from my room. You were telling someone your plans for the day. You lied and said you were in Los Angeles.”
It took him a while to answer. “It’s complicated, Aubrey.” Then, he seemed to shut down and turned toward the window.
“Well, this was a good conversation. I’m glad I asked,” I said bitterly as I started the car and took off toward the highway.
We sat in silence for a long while. Chance looked tense and kept sucking down the Pixy Stix one by one. After about a half-hour, I decided to break the ice. “How do you keep a body like that eating the way you do?”
“Is that your way of saying you like my body? You like what you see?”
“I didn’t say that exactly.”
“Not exactly, but you implied it.”
“Jackass.”
“Lots and lots of sex, Aubrey. That’s how I do it.”
“Really? That’s it?”
“No. I just wanted to see your face turn that pretty shade of pink it does when you’re embarrassed.” He snickered. “In answer to your question, I work out a lot, and I don’t eat like this every day. But on road trips, all dietary rules go out the window. You need to be able to eat what you want to keep sane.”
“Well, from what I see, you’re pretty insane, so it’s not working.”
He smiled at me, and I returned it. The aftermath of our tense conversation from earlier finally seemed to have faded away. “Give me one of the packages of pretzels, please.”
He took one out of the paper bag and handed it to me then looked behind his shoulder to my packed backseat. “What do you have in all these bags back here, anyway?”
“Don’t touch my stuff.”
“I bet there are some treasures in this junk that would tell me everything I ever needed to know about you.”
He started to blindly grab things out of my bags. “Oh, a book! Happy Bitch: The girlfriend’s straight-up guide to losing the baggage and finding the fun, fabulous you inside.”
“Put that back and don’t touch that bag again!”
“Alright. But what exactly are you hiding in this one that’s so bad?”
Shit.
Chance kept digging. “What’s this now?”
Oh no!
He pulled out my lifelike flesh-toned vibrator. “Princess…is this a silicone cock in a bejeweled case? No wonder why you didn’t mind that Harry couldn’t do it for you. You were taking it into your own hands and into your own—”
“Give me that!”
He took it out of the case. “Oh…this thing is pathetic. We could do a lot better than that.”
“Chance…seriously, I’m not joking. Hand it over…now!”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all pleasure ourselves.”
The events that followed seemed to happen in quick succession. He kept waving the dildo around as I tried to grab it. A truck driver that noticed it honked at us. The car was swerving. Then, I saw it. It was standing in the middle of the road with frightened eyes, frozen like a deer in headlights. I suddenly cut the wheel hard to the right, driving straight into an embankment, not knowing if I had killed him.
Chapter Four
“Is he breathing?” I held my own breath hovering over Chance until I saw the rise and fall of its little stomach. It had shaggy long hair and was spotted like a cow, but its eyes bulged from its head more like a frog. The poor goat was only a baby. One I’d just raced into with my car while fighting over a damn vibrator.