Page 14 of Blue-Eyed Jacks
His scowl deepened.Then he said, “No.I either need music or conversation when I drive.Pick one.”
Both were land mines.
He tossed out ideas.“Here’s a topic.Favorite football team.”
“I don’t have one.”
He glanced at me.“Not even the Steelers?”
Especially not them.Shock loved the team.“Shock bets on every game.When they lose, he beats me.”
“Beat.Past tense.Favorite food?”
I didn’t think.“Chocolate.”
“Chocolate isn’t a food.”
“Yes, it is.”I froze.Would he think I’m arguing with him?
“Chocolate cake is a food.Chocolate ice cream is a food.Chocolate is a flavor.”
I put it as neutrally as I could.“It’s my favorite.”
“You mean to tell me you’d eat chocolate-flavored shit?”
Yuck.“No.”
“See?Notyour favorite in all things.Which chocolate foods are your favorite?”
“You’re a jerk.”I crossed my arms and regretted it because it reminded me I wasn’t wearing a bra.
He tilted his head toward me to confide, “I’m a correct jerk.What foods?”
“You’re making me hungry.”
“That can be fixed.”He flicked on the blinker to take the exit.
“Wait, we can’t stop.”Panic seized me.“What if someone sees us?”What if there were cameras that could be hacked?What if someone followed us?
“Relax.”
He sounded so sure of himself.What I wouldn’t give for that kind of confidence.
“Should I continue calling you Bill?”
“Hell no.James.Call me that.”
“Why do they call you Jackson?”
“Jack’s son.”He said it as two distinct words.
“Your father’s name was Jack?”
He nodded.“John, Jack.Same difference.The club all called him One-Eyed Jack.”
“Did he lose an eye?”Sometimes, biker nicknames were on the nose.
“Ha, no.He got that from always winking at the ladies.”Jackson’s grin was devious.His wink was even more devilish.
