Page 509 of Love Bites


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"My man is big too, but he's tall, dark, and brooding. The kind of guy I love to loosen up." The car clicks into park, and she rubs her hands together. "My kind of challenge."

"Do you think there's any chance our dreams are close to reality? What if we're heading toward troll-like dwarf creatures?" I chuckle because I’m not serious. The car door groans as I open it.

Sunlight halos Sierra's dyed-black hair, making it glow blue. She says, "That might not be so bad. They're a good height for us." She waves her hand across her groin, and I snort when I get what she means.

"You're twisted." I shake my head. "But I love you for it."

"It's the dreams. I swear, if we actually hook up with guys half as sexy as the ones we've been lusting after, the trip will be worth it." She pulls open a clear glass door, and the aroma of coffee wraps around us.

While we wait to be seated I say, “I know this is kind of weird, but sometimes things in my dreams come true.” I wrap my arms around myself, recalling the bear biting into my flesh, and unease settles over me.

“Really? Sweet.” Sierra’s smile doesn’t hint at the evil I fear lurking around the corner, and I love that she just accepts my admission.

Forty-five minutes later we roll out full of our favorite breakfasts and ready for the remaining ten-hour drive to Bangor, Maine. Approaching my Subaru, I notice it looks odd. As we get to it I realize the back tire is flat.

"Great, we get to change a tire. Ever done it before?" I look at Sierra's painted nails and decide it was a stupid question.

"Nope, but I know how to call for help, and you've got Triple A." She flashes a lipstick smile at me.

"True." I sigh because now we won't get to our destination until after dark. Plastic cards slip through my fingers as I search for the right one. "Got it."

Sierra's nails click on her phone as she types in the number I read to her. She wanders off as she talks, and I'm left to stare out at the Connecticut landscape. It's kind of ugly in an industrial way, and I imagine living just outside of New York City isn't very pleasant. When she's done talking Sierra returns and says, "Some guy named Taylor will be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Great. Let's take our stuff out to get to the spare."

The sun has heated up the car, and the salty fried odor of road food wafts towards us as we throw our bags out of the trunk and onto the asphalt beside the car. The tightly woven carpeted trapdoor is rough in my hands when I pull it up to reveal my spare. It’s an oddly small-looking thing, and rubber is pulled away from the rim. "Crap on a cracker, it's flat."

"Well, that sucks. Guess we're buying you a new tire." Sierra sits on the bumper next to me and leans against my body. "Hey, this could be so much worse. What if we were on the side of the road?" She places her hand over her tattoo. "They're watching out for us. I can feel it."

"Really?" I squint at her in frustration and stand. "Because I'm not feeling a thing. If these guys really want us to come to them, then why aren’t they sending out their bat signal? Huh?"

I kick a tire on my car, and pain shoots through my toe. “Ouch!” Through my blurry vision I see something dark move by the side of the diner. I’m tempted to go see what it is, but with the way today is going, I’d probably get mugged.

Sierra gives me time to cool down. "Okay, no, I’m not getting any sign either. But there's no use in getting upset over things we can't change. Let's just roll with it." She grins. "Roll with it, ha!"

I smirk. "Cute." I'm glad Sierra is with me to defuse my anger. She takes things in stride, and I do need to learn to roll with it. I watch her leaning over the side-view mirror to apply lipstick. When she smacks her lips I chuckle because Taylor has no idea what’s about to hit him.

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