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5. Three Simple Rules
Jules
We’re a couple miles up the highway before Lesley’s maniac driving pulls me from my sexy stranger induced stupor. My cheek still radiates heat from the spot where he kissed me. I remember how his hand felt at the nape of my neck, and how the rugged scent of him made my head swim. I grow warm between the thighs just thinking about it.
“How was your flight?” Les asks, her voice instantly landing me back in reality.
“It was okay.”
And terrifying and exhilarating—an experience I wish I could do over again, just to see him one more time.
“You sound exhausted,” she says, swerving around a slower moving vehicle.
I grip my seat as she zips up Interstate 5 in her VW Bug. She’s gotta be doing twenty over. Traffic isn’t too heavy, but the scattered cars sharing the five-lane highway are moving along at a steady pace. Lesley races around them like she’s a professional driver on a closed course.
“Any chance we can get there in one piece?” I ask, only halfway ribbing her.
“Have you lost faith in my driving?” She quirks an indignant brow at me, but amusement plays on her dark-painted lips. Pink streaks her black locks. Her style has always been on the punkish side, and she’s embraced it here in Seattle.
“I think I’m still on edge from the flight.”
“Thought you said the flight was alright.”
“There was some turbulence.”
And a lot of hand-holding, not to mention an almost-kiss that was panty-melting. God, what would it have felt like to have those lips on mine? I’ll never see my sexy stranger again, so there’s no chance of ever finding out.
“Okay, I’ll be good and slow down,” she says, conceding with an exaggerated sigh. “But only because I know how much you hated every minute of that flight.” As Lesley eases up on the accelerator, she shoots me a questioning look. “So…you gonna tell me what happened back in Shit Town?”
She hates Whiskey Flats. She hates Chris even more.
“Promise no ragging on Chris?”
A shrug of her shoulder is all the promise I’m getting. “What happened, Jules?”
For the next ten minutes, I tell her why I fled Oklahoma. Keeping her eyes on the road, she chews over every word as the windshield wipers swish back and forth on the glass.
“I can’t believe that motherfucker walked out on you like that.”
“Can you blame him? I slept with another man.”
“Yes, Jules. I can blame him. In fact, I think he had it coming. He neglected you. He fucking messed with your head every chance he got. The jerk made you feel like a nag for wanting what any girl wants from her man.”
“He’s not a bad guy,” I say, wringing my hands. “Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that. Finally.” Swiping her dark bangs back from her face, she shoots me a pointed look. “Because a real man puts his woman first. Chris didn’t. He cared more about drinking and goofing off with his buddies. He never fucking grew up, Jules.”
“Still, that’s no excuse for what I did.”
“Okay, so you made a mistake. It’s not the end of the world. But knowing you the way I do, you think it is, and you’ll punish yourself over it forever. Trust me, Chris isn’t worth it.” Lesley is accelerating again, her irritation with my ex dumping lead into her foot.
“Les, you’re speeding.”
“I always speed.”
“Well, I’d rather you not do it while you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry. I’m…outraged on your behalf.”
