He smiled his dimpled grin at me. “I would if I could, but it’s out of my hands. Anyway, the trial is not until Friday. I have tonight and all of tomorrow to enjoy my freedom. And you, agápi mou. Can’t we enjoy tonight and forget about what’s around the corner?”

The pleading look in his eyes melted my heart. I snuggled my cheek against his rock hard chest. Stupid muscles. Stupid dimples. Stupid Christos! I wound my arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as I could. I would do my best to block out the trial and focus on the now.

I sighed. “I believe you’d mentioned a present of some sort?”

“I did,” he said seductively. “But before we get to that, maybe you should call your boss and tell him you can’t make it?”

Groan!

My boss could take his neon urine colored Grab-n-Dash uniform shirt and shove it up his ass. Since I was moving in with Christos, and would be saving on rent, did I really need the job? Oh wait, ever since my parents had gone bonkers and decided to stop sending me any money for college, yes. Not only did I need Grab-n-Dash, I could use three more jobs on top of it. There was no way I could pay my tuition with what I made working at the SDU art museum and Grab-n-Dash combined.

My life was truly screwing me in every orifice. Worse, not only were my main orifi getting the shaft from every direction, including my ears, nostrils, and eye sockets, but I imagined millions of tiny microscopic dicks busily raping every pore on my body.

Screw it. I may as well enjoy my evening with Christos.

Because things couldn’t get any worse, could they?

* * *

Christos and I went inside and I immediately called my boss at Grab-n-Dash on my phone. I apologized profusely for not coming in and asked what I could do to make it up to him.

He promptly told me I was fired.

“Oh yeah?” I shouted into the phone, “Well, your uniforms look like pee and they smell like hot dogs! I don’t need your stupid job!” I heard him hang up on me. “And your eyebrows look like caterpillars!” I screamed.

“That went well,” Christos said dryly.

“I always hated that place anyway. I didn’t even get free ICEEs when I was on the clock! My boss was a total miser.”

“You’ll find something better,” Christos encouraged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll sell some more art.”

I wondered if The Wombat paid for comic strips? I’d have to ask the editor, Justin Tomlinson. Gulp. I could worry about that later. Christos now.

“So, you said something about a present?” I asked sheepishly. I admit it. I was greedy for a good gift. It had been a long day.

“Yes,” he grinned. “You’re going to love it. Come on, I’ll show you.” He led me through the house until we ended up in the garage. He flipped on the lights.

The first thing I noticed was an old station wagon with wood paneling on the sides and white wall tires. I’d never seen one like it before. I wrinkled my nose. “Did you get me a car?”

“What,” Christos looked confused, “the Woody?”

I snorted a laugh.

He narrowed his eyes, “You don’t know what a Woody is, do you?”

“Christos!” I giggled. “Of course I do.”

He smirked at me. “Okay, what is it?”

“Duh. A woody is a hard on.”

“A what?” he asked, amused.

“You know,” I insisted.

“No. Tell me. I’m all ears.”

“An erection.”

“A what?”

“Christos, how could you of all people not know what I’m talking about?”

He shook his head, totally confused.

“An erect penis?” I said uncertainly.

He still looked confused.

“Am I not speaking English?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay,” I blurted, “now I know you’re messing with me.”

He cracked up laughing.

I swatted his arm. “Jerk!”

He dodged away from another swat and cackled, “You’re super sexy when you’re mad! I totally need a picture of your face right now!”

“Boys!” I folded my arms. “So, what is woody, Mr. Smarty Pants?”

“This particular Woody is my grandad’s 1949 Plymouth station wagon. He bought it when my dad was a kid and they restored it together back in the 1970s.”

“Oh. It’s really nice. How come I never see your grandfather driving it?”

“It’s a classic. He only takes it out now and then. Before they finished restoring it all the way, my granddad would load up the surfboards and take my dad surfing up and down the coast when he was a kid.”

“That sounds like fun.” I’d never done anything nearly that cool with my parents. Once again, I felt that pinch of jealousy every time Christos told me yet another casual story about his family life. I don’t think he thought anything of it. To him, it was normal. To me it was exotic, romantic, and almost unbelievable. Did people really enjoy their lives this much? My parents hadn’t. For them, everything had been about work, taking precautions, planning for the future. What about living in the moment? I don’t think they knew what that was.

“So,” Christos said, “the first part of your present. Boxes.”

“Boxes?”

He walked over to a stack of new boxes leaning against the wall of the garage. “Moving boxes. And packing supplies. For you.”

“For me?” I looked at the boxes. There was a bunch of different sizes, including one of those wardrobe boxes for hanging clothes.

“If we’re going to get you moved in with me, we’re going to need to pack everything up, right?” He smiled at me.

My heart melted instantly. I’d been running around like cray-cray for the last two days, yet somehow Christos had managed to keep his eye on the prize, so to speak. I said tentatively, “Are you sure?”

He scoffed. “Of course I’m sure.”

“But, the other night you flipped out and bolted from my apartment after telling me about your trial. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.” I wanted to hide my face. I was about to cry. I willed my tears to stay put, lest they ruin my dreams, which were coming true right before my eyes.

“I owe you an apology for that, agápi mou. I totally flipped out.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

I stared up into his lustrous blue eyes. They pierced my heart so easily. I felt warmth drizzling into me as my eyes drank the love shining from his. “It’s okay, Christos. I understand.”

“You didn’t deserve for me to run out like that, especially after your parents blew gaskets about your plan to move in with me. I should’ve been there for you. I think I was so freaked out by what your parents said, combined with the stress of my trial, it was like I couldn’t do anything to stop the landslide. After I cooled off, I had to remind myself that I can’t control what your parents say or do, and I can’t control the outcome of my trial. But that doesn’t mean the rest of my life has to grind to a halt. We talked about moving in together, and I meant it. Shit, you already have a sweet art studio here. May as well seal the deal. This house is your house. I want you to live with me, no matter what happens.”

I think I was floating outside my body. Any second I expected to see a light at the end of a dark tunnel and hear a choir of angels welcoming me to heaven. Oh wait, the light was just the love glowing in Christos’ eyes. “Yes,” I said hoarsely. I had to clear my throat, I was so choked up. “Yes!” I laughed. “I totally want to move in with you!”

“Awesome,” he smiled, his eyes darkening with tangible desire. “I’ve already got Jake and a bunch of my buddies lined up tomorrow. One of them has a big pickup. If you’re willing, I thought me and the boys could go to your apartment while you’re at school and pack everything up for you. We can put your furniture in the garage. We’ll have all your stuff moved in before you’re back from campus. What do you think?”

“Wow! That sounds awesome! Are you sure? I mean, moving isn’t usually people’s number one social activity.”

“It’s totally cool. As long as you’re cool with us doing it. I’d need to get your apartment key. And you should probably tell your manager and your neighbors so they don’t think we’re robbing you.”

I laughed. “I’ll do that. Oh, one thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t let any of your buddies sniff my underwear,” I giggled.

He chuckled. “They won’t have a chance. I’ll be too busy hogging all of it for myself.” He inhaled loudly, “Ah yeah, that’s the shit!”

I swatted his arm again. “I can’t decide whether that’s disgusting or a total turn on.”

“I like how your pussy smells, so I’m going with turn on.”

I winced. “Gross!”

He shook his head and smiled. “One day we’re going to have to break you of your prudish ways, agápi mou. I like how your pussy smells. I like how it tastes. I generally think about jamming my face between your legs every five minutes.”

“You are so crude!”

He smiled his dimpled grin. “What can I say? You turn me on more than any woman has ever turned a man on in the history of men. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet and I like to indulge in it. Your pussy, that is. Nectar of the Gods and shit.”

I had to admit, the hot throb between my legs was totally unintentional. I took no responsibility for being turned on by Christos’ crass behavior. I was a proper girl without a single slutty bone in my body. Christos, on the other hand, had the soul of a male slut, and for some reason, I wanted his slutty bone in my body. Err, I meant, I wanted his slut bone in parts of me for which I was not responsible, the wet drenched center in particular.

He arched a cocky eyebrow, emphasis on the cocky part. “Ready to go upstairs?”