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I quickly wash my hands, not concerned about the call in the slightest, because no doubt it’s Darryl or Richard, or whoever the fuck is going to answer my “personals ad” next.
“Want me to get that for you?” Tiny smirks.
He glances down at the bulge in my pants, which is definitely all phone.
“Thanks, but I’ll manage,” I say dryly.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed.” Tiny chuckles. “There’s nothing sexier than a man who’s comfortable enough to use Shania as his ringtone.”
“Yeah, I’m a real catch.”
His laughter echoes through the restroom as I push through the door and walk back outside. I grab my phone and switch it onto silent before it can ring again. I catch sight of Katie through the front windshield and smile.
“Why do I feel like you have something to do with the fact that a three hundred pound, heavily tattooed biker thinks my ringtone is now Shania?” I ask her as I slide back into my seat.
Her eyes widen. “Tiny?” She gasps.
I nod grimly, fighting back a smile. She leans forward, laughing so hard she nearly chokes.
“No way. I have to see him,” she whispers through her tears.
“Katie,” I protest, but she’s already gone.
She stops in her tracks when Tiny saunters out of the roadhouse. He frowns at her, looking much less friendly than he did with me a few minutes ago. She turns back to me, her eyes wide as she frantically nods. I groan and shake my head, still laughing when she climbs back in the car.
“You weren’t kidding,” she exclaims. “It’s like our vision came to life.” She turns to me, her eyes shining. “Do you think we created him?”
“I think,” I begin with a smirk, “that you owe me an apology. We were both at the urinal when it rang. You have no idea the irreparable damage you’ve caused.”
She bursts into another round of laughter.
“Irreparable damage, huh?” She raised her eyebrows. “Like what you caused me before?”
“I think a few harmless memos are hardly the same as me getting raped on the bathroom floor of a Nevada roadhouse,” I say grimly.
“Bullshit.” She states, shaking her head. I glance at her and shrug. “Fine. You want more examples? I have plenty. How about the time you pulled my pants down at that special assembly on fire safety junior year?” She narrows her eyes at me. “Remember that?”
“Oh yeah.” I grin at the memory. “I’ve never seen anyone do the drop and roll as fast as you that day. It was impressive,” I add, complimenting her.
“So long as you got a rise out of it,” she mutters.
“Trust me, I did.” I grin at her, until her eyes widen and then I nod.
“Oh, that’s sick.” She groans, screwing her nose up. “You’re not even joking, are you?”
“What’s to joke about? They were the sexiest yellow undies I’d ever seen,” I protest. “Well, unless you count the pair I caught Principal Harvey sniffing in his office.”
Her eyes grow even wider. “No way,” she hisses.
“Truth.” I nod. “I swear on my life. Though, the way Tammy Hamster was moaning, bent over his desk, she didn’t seem to mind.”
“Hamster is such an unfortunate last name.” I chuckle, glancing at her. “You have no idea how hard it was not telling everyone that I found him balls deep inside a hamster.”
“So, you did know.” She smiles. “I couldn’t decide if you preempted that scandal or caused it.”
“Me cause a scandal?” I grin at her. “That’s more your area of expertise, isn’t it?”
She gives me the glare that’s reserved for the times where I make any kind of reference to her performance. Though these days, there’s more than one performance.
As we drive along, she’s lost in her own world and doesn’t say much. I glance at her every now and then, enjoying the chance to study her without her realizing. Until she catches me watching, then I just look awkward and creepy. She smiles at me, but the smile doesn’t meet her eyes. Add to the fact that there’s no snide comment, and I know something is bothering her.
“Fidgeting is something I used to do all the time when I’d worry about things,” I explain. I nod down at her hands when she glances at me.
“You mean your parents?” she asks in a soft voice.
I nod. I haven’t told her much about my family, because it’s not a topic I like talking about. I usually go out of my way to avoid the subject, but I want to show Katie a different side to me. Something beyond the jokes and laughter.
“What happened?” she asks. “Tell me to mind my own business if you like.”
“No, it’s okay.”
I think about where to start. There’s too much to tell her everything. I want to sympathize with her. I don’t want to scare her off.
“My father killed himself when I was five. Two years later, my uncle, who was like a father to me, was stabbed during a fight in prison,” I tell her. “Then my little brother … he died when I was eight.”
