He's the guy moms warn their daughters about. Bold, outspoken, and self-confident, Brian O'Brien returns to his hometown only to discover some things changed in his absence.
Brian has a new neighbor - a shy, smart girl Leah, who hates his guts since...
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The line at the store is long as fuck, but Kitten's sick and upset, and I want to get some muffins to cheer her up. The thought of her staying with me is thrilling. The second thing that made my shitty afternoon better is my convo with Dakota.
I head home as soon as the muffins are mine, barely waiting to dash upstairs. When I enter my room, I halt in the doorway.
Leah isn't there. My clothes she must've worn are folded and lie in a neat pile on the straightened comforter.
Leah doesn't answer my call, which gives me no other choice but to go see her. She's home alone, so I knock on her front door.
Leah opens it. She doesn't meet my eyes, lowering her gaze to her feet instead.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
Kitten's a shitty liar. She says, "Nothing," but keeps looking elsewhere.
"You said you were gonna spend the night with me."
"I changed my mind."
"Why?"
"Because I don't feel well."
"I bought some muffins. We can watch a movie, and you'll feel better. Come on; let's go."
Leah shakes her head. "I can't. I'm sorry."
"You can't, or don't want to?"
Silence is the response I get, and I hate it.
"Whatever you want." I pivot to get out of there, but she doesn't try to stop me, doesn't want to tell me what the fuck happened for her to treat me this way. I feel shitty all afternoon and spend yet another night staring at the ceiling in my dark bedroom.
***
Pops notices my crappy mood the following morning. I make too much noise with the tools, and a scowl is glued to my face. He doesn't say anything, and I'm grateful.
I don't even put the music on, choosing to replace the levers in silence. That's until an ear-splitting whistle breaks it, and someone yells, "Tiny dick!"
Pops chuckles. "That must be for you, little fucker."
Perking up for the first time in hours, I rush out of the garage. "Don't expose me like that, D," I say.
Dakota hops off her Harley, takes off her helmet, and squeezes the shit out of me. The chick's slim but hugs like a dude who lifts.
I pretend to be hurt and cough.
"Pussy." She slaps my back. Then, we both snicker.
"Good to see you," I say, putting an arm around her shoulders as we strut to the shop.
Dakota smiles a megawatt smile. "Same, baby boy. We'll hopefully hang out more often now that I'll live only a couple of hours away."
"I'm so fucking proud of you. Your own business at twenty, doing something dudes would usually do."
