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“How about if I lose, I’ll fix your car.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God. That would be awesome! Is it sad that I might be hoping you slip and fall off the wagon?” She grinned.
“What do I get for holding up my end of the deal?” I asked.
“What’s something you want?”
Your lips wrapped tight around my cock.
“I know!” She said. “If I lose, I’ll name the main male character in my book Rush.”
I bent my head back in laughter. It didn’t matter what she planned to give me because I planned on intentionally losing. “We have a deal, then.”
“Cool. It starts effective immediately,” she said.
Her eyes followed me as I started to wander around her room. Her closet was open. Running my fingers along the hanging outfits, I noticed a set of eyes looking back at me from atop the shelf. Then, another set of eyes. And another.
Lined up in a row were a set of the ugliest dolls I had ever seen in my life. Their hair was all messed up, and some of them looked downright deformed.
“What the fuck do you have going on in here?”
She couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s my ugly doll collection.”
“Ugly is an understatement. These are hideous! Like they give Chucky some serious competition. You collect these?”
“Yup. Don’t ask me how I started…because the answer is more fucked-up than the dolls themselves.”
“Okay, well, now you know I have to ask. How did you start collecting them?”
She sighed, gearing up to tell me a story. “Before my mother took off on my dad and me…she left me with a parting gift. It was a little doll. It wasn’t an ugly doll or anything…it was generic—blonde hair, pink dress. Her name was Lulu. Anyway…when I got old enough to realize that she was never coming back…I burned it…like literally took it out to the backyard when my father was burning wood and threw it into the fire.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Well, I immediately had second thoughts. After all, this was the only keepsake I had of my mother. So, I ended up pulling it out a few seconds later. It was all charred and half burnt, but still somewhat recognizable. I liked her better imperfect. She reflected how I felt. When my father figured out what I’d done, he was trying to make me feel better about it. The next day, when he came home from work, he brought home the ugliest doll you’ve ever seen in your life, because he said Lulu needed a friend. That was the moment I realized I had the best dad in the world. And that was the moment I fell in love with ugly dolls.”
I immediately spotted the doll she referred to as Lulu and lifted it. “This is the burnt one, isn’t it?”
“Yup. And after that day, I started collecting bizarre looking dolls. They go everywhere with me.”
If I didn’t already dig this chick, she had to go and tell me she threw a baby doll into a fire. Something about that whole twisted story just warmed my black heart.
“That is one fucked-up story…but kind of fucking awesome at the same time.”
“That’s the story of my life, Rush.” She walked over to me until she was dangerously close.
Fuck, I wanted to kiss her.
Instead, I just walked toward the door and said, “T’as de beaux yeux, tu sais.”
“Speaking French again, are we?” She smiled.
“You wanted to know what it meant. It means, you have beautiful eyes, you know.”
Gia blushed, and it was fucking adorable. “Thank you.”
That was my cue to leave. “I’d better go. See you tomorrow.”
She didn’t argue with me as I slipped out the door, through the living room, and sped away in my Mustang.
That night, visions of ugly dolls danced in my head. And even though I planned to intentionally lose the bet, I didn’t touch another cigarette.I will not go to The Heights.
I paced back and forth, alone in my living room.
I will not go to The Heights.
More pacing.
I wasn’t quite sure which addiction had me unable to sit still tonight. It was now almost twenty-four hours since I’d smoked a cigarette and a half-hour more than that since I’d seen Gia. One made me feel like I was dangling on the edge.
It had to be the cigarettes. I wasn’t even sure why the fuck I hadn’t smoked today when my plan had been to lose the stupid bet. For some reason, I wanted to see if I could stop if I wanted to. The thought that I’d rather take a ride over to The Heights than smoke really pissed me off.
Flopping down on my couch, I grabbed my cell phone. What I needed was not a damn smoke or Gia—I needed to get laid. I scrolled through my contacts to see if any names sparked an interest.
