“That is the most arrogant, condescending, male chauvinistic and patronizing mansplaining bullshit I have ever heard,” I said.

Kade slammed his fists down on the table and his presence seemed to expand and crowd into my small space on the booth.  Before he could say anything, I brushed the back my hand over his arm, just as he had done to me a few moments before to let him know I could handle the situation. He visibly relaxed and leaned back into the cushions of the bench we occupied.  It kind of made me feel beautiful.

Next to Fran, Bree covered her face with her hands and Dylan’s expression looked shocked.  I stood up, flattened my shirt down and wiped my clammy hands on my pants.  I gave Fran a measured stare, leaned over the table, and asked sweetly, “Do you think yourself as a man that’s well endowed, Francis?”

He squirmed in his seat, and gave me a slight nod.

“Let me ask you then,” I leaned in closer and licked my lips, trying to act as seductively as I could.  “Can your penis reach your rectum?”

Slowly, a flirtatious smile emerged on his face; he nodded and leaned his head closer to mine.

“Then go fuck yourself,” I said evenly. Climbing behind Kade in the booth, I jumped off the seat, made my way to the bar, ordered another beer and a shot of whiskey, and stared down at my trembling fingers.

An icy cold beer and whiskey shot slid in front of me almost instantly.

“I’m taking you out of here,” Kade’s voice rumbled in my ear, fanning warm breath against my neck.

Gulping back my shot, I turned my head and looked up into his eyes, our faces so close, our lips mere inches apart.  Slowly, his eyes trailed down to my mouth and he shifted his body to face me, “Come on, I’m in the mood for coffee.”  His dark features softened, his body slackened and relaxed against the edge of the bar as if he really felt comfortable next to me.

Drawing in a deep breath, I slid my gaze over to our table and heaviness settled over my chest when I locked eyes with Fran, then back to Kade.  I had never dealt with any of this nonsense before. I’d never had two men at the same time vie for my attention (if that’s what it was), but I did know what it was like to be with someone who tried to control you, and that, I didn’t need.  So, without any trepidation or fear, I followed Kade Grayson out of the bar with a wildly beating heart.

After I climbed into Kade’s truck, I texted Bree to tell her I left.  Shivering from the cold air, my teeth started to chatter and Kade looked at me questioningly.  “You didn’t go back to the table for your coat, and I didn’t think to bring it to you when I asked you for coffee,” he stated, the mist of his warm breath dissipating into the cold air of the front cab of his truck.

“Wasn’t in my escape plan, no.”

A slow sexy smile transformed on his lips as he unzipped his leather jacket and quickly yanked his arms from their sleeves and passed it to me.

Slipping the coat over my shoulders, I was hit with the intoxicating smell of Kade, a mixture of spices, man and thick, rich worn leather.  Twisting the key in the ignition, his truck rumbled to life.  The cold leather seats beneath me vibrated, as a Metallica song blasted deafeningly from his speakers with James Hetfield’s deep raspy voice singing Whiskey in the Jar.  Pure, raw nostalgia surged through my veins, teenage angst, and memories flooded my mind.

“Sorry,” he muttered, fumbling to turn his audio system off.

“Don’t!” I yelped.  “Don’t shut it off. I love this song.  I was obsessed with Metallica when I was younger.”

“You?  You listened to Metallica?” he laughed harshly, doubting my honesty.

I despised it when people didn’t take my word for truth, and I hated when people doubted me.  So, I sang the words to him as the music played, “…stand and deliver or the devil he may take you…”

His eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t respond at all.  He quickly looked out his windows for any oncoming traffic and pulled out onto the dark road. His eyes found mine again and narrowed.

“…I took all of his money…”

His brow wrinkled.

“…It was a pretty penny…”

He bit down on his lip to keep from smiling.  I sang louder.

When he finally let his smile free, I danced around the cab of the truck singing and playing air guitar, until the song ended and he clicked off the audio system.

Emptiness.  It was thunderous.

With the sudden loss of the music, a heavy white-noise-roaring silence fell over my ears. It had a tangible weight to it and my shoulders felt its heavy burden.  I hoped I hadn’t push too far.  I hoped that being myself for a minute with him wouldn’t cause him any more damage.  Shifting over, I quietly leaned my forehead against the cold window and glanced out at the darkness of the tall trees that rushed by us alongside the road.  Kade must have been speeding, because the trees were blurring past my eyes too fast.  I said nothing though. If he needed to drive this fast, I needed to let him. Besides, I was the mother of all lead-footers; nobody drove as fast as I did.

Pulling into a large parking area off the main road, he parked his truck in front of an all night diner that sat in the middle of an empty highway.  With both hands, he tightly clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles were white from lack of blood flow.  The muscles of his arms tightened and bulged, his back was rigid and his face stared straight out the windshield into the dark trees the grill of the truck was pointing towards.  He had turned the engine off, so the temperature inside the cab of the truck was dropping fast and I could once again see the mist of his breath.  “How do you do that?” he whispered, coldly.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I shifted my body around to face him, “Do what?”

“Act comfortable around me,” he said, as his head turned and his intense eyes collided with mine.

Pulling the handle of the door, I pushed it open and climbed out.  Standing in the open door of his truck with the dome light on, I looked at him dead in the face. “I’m never comfortable with anybody, Kade.  Ever.  I just deal with whatever situation I’m in the best way I know how.”

Slamming the door, I walked around the truck towards the front entrance of the diner, practically dragging his enormous jacket on the ground.  Kade’s door echoed mine, and instantly, he was in front of me blocking my way, his body so close to mine, but not once…not once touching me.  And, I wanted him too; I wanted him to touch me. Leaning his face closer to mine, daring me to look up at him, I did.  Pain was evident in his features; confusion, struggle, and heartache were embedded in his skin.  My heart broke for him.

“How?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Easy,” I smiled, hoping to lessen his tension with humor.  “You just gotta find your happy place, Kade.  Mine is with Tatum Channing and a bottle of rum.”

Caught off guard, his smile lit up the night, “Tatum Channing, huh?”

“Yes, please,” I smiled, walking into the diner, melting with the warmth of the air that hit me as soon as we stepped foot inside.

Without speaking, we both headed for the first booth by the exit. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. He just sat down, back against the wall, eyes scanning the handful of customers that had ventured out just as we did.  I could see the tension in his rigid posture and the tightness in his jaw as he surveyed the layout of the building, and I understood, more than he would ever know, I understood.  When his gaze landed on mine, his tension seemed to slacken some, but not completely and I understood that too, I was just glad to notice that I helped in some sort of relief for his coiled body.

The waitress, an older lady with an impressive grey head of hair swept up into a 1960s beehive hairstyle, leaned her knee against the cushion of my seat and snapped a wad of gum in her mouth, “Hey, kids.  What can I getcha?”

“Two coffees,” Kade mumbled, “and I need a cheeseburger deluxe.”  He looked at me shrugging, “Sorry, I’m hungry.  Would you like to eat anything?”

“Actually, a cheeseburger deluxe sounds like heaven, so make that two,” I smiled at the waitress.  His eyes continuously scanned the room as the waitress walked away. Then after about three sweeps, his eyes met with mine again.  He muttered another apology about being hungry, and held his eyes in a steady unwavering stare with mine.

“Don’t be sorry. I am going to destroy that cheeseburger with my soul, I’m so damn hungry,” I laughed.

Two huge mugs of steaming coffee were placed in front of us and he smiled tightly into the dark liquid as he poured in milk.  “So what’s the story with you and Francis?”

Sipping at my coffee, I rolled my eyes, “There’s no story.  I explained to him weeks ago, and I seem to have to remind him daily that I don’t want a relationship with him.  He has a hard time listening.”

“He’s about as fun as a funeral.  And he’s a big dick,” he stated, trying to hide his small smile behind his coffee.  “Dating him must be mind-blowing,” he said dryly.

“You know what they say, having a small dick is the leading cause of acting like a big one,” I quipped.  He laughed at me and his smile was exhilarating, making me want to hear more.  “And we’re not dating.  Dating sucks.  Relationships suck.  There are too many creepers out there.”

“Creepers?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling and winking.  “There are all different kinds of creepers too.  Let’s see,” I said, tapping my finger against my lips.  “There’s the touchy feely, hands-on creeper, the boob-gawking-mouth-drooler creep, the dirty talker creep, oh, or the fetish dude creeper, who stares at your feet during whole conversations. The dominant creeper who likes to victimize, is the worst in my book.  There’s the creepy geek freak, who talks Vulcan or quotes Star Wars facts during sex, or the dirty old man creeper.  Can’t forget the married creep or the cat guy creeper, or the creep your friend set you up with.  There are so many,” I laughed.  “My favorite is the online creeper.”