Page 39 of Ewan

Or maybe I should stay in my lane and let her be other people’s problem. Maybe she has a boyfriend.

If she does, he doesn’t fuck her well, or her sweat wouldn’t smell like need.

Maybe she has a ton of contenders and doesn’t like them. Who wouldn’t want to love, pamper, and care for someone like her?

My ideation runs amok as I do my bestnotto entirely talk myself out of her.

Frustrated, I reach for my phone and check for any new messages before sliding it back into my pocket.

I relish these rare moments when not much happens.

Although, I can’t ignore that Callan and I haven’t talked in a while. I miss when the four of us were a riot, and our lives were enmeshed together.

We keep in touch and discuss business, but for the most part, we live our personal lives separately.

Life hasn’t been the same these past few years.

We make do.

That’s all we do.

I glance in the rearview mirror.

The windows are still lit, and the only car in the front of the building is hidden in the dark. It’s getting harder to see it through the thick fog that wraps around the trees.

Oops.

The headlights of that car just came on.

My heart races, which makes me reconsider giving up on having this woman.

It’s still a big fat no, but I frequently glance in my rearview mirror, driving my truck slowly.

Edging closer to the point when I can’t see her anymore compels me to hit the brakes and wait.

My truck purrs hoarsely as I try to figure out why it’s taking her so much time to pull away.

I check the area and back up a little to get a better view of her.

Even more helpful seems the small clearing I spot on the side of the road. I back up even more and tuck myself between the clusters of trees. And then, I look again.

Eventually, she gets moving.

What was the hold up? Did she get a phone call? Maybe her angry boyfriend asked her to quickly come home and warm his dick for him.

I feel like breaking someone’s neck.

It's a good thing that I have a son.

I’m still protective of him, to his dismay. But can you imagine having a daughter? I’d be a menace to anyone daring to look her way.

I am a menace, anyway.

I turn my engine off and relax in my seat, watching my sweet Scarlett pull out of the parking lot like a little old lady.

“Careful, baby. You don’t want to break one of those sexy heels…” I murmur, watching like a creepy stalker how the woman rolls her car to the secondary road.

Something’s wrong with that car.

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