Page 47 of Dirty

“I like that,” I said.

“Best saying, ever,” Smokey said.

I looked at Pee Bee. “Here’s the thing. I’ll be honest. I don’t know if it’s because of the whole deal at the dope house, or what, but I feel some weird connection to this chick that I can’t explain. I don’t know if it’s because she’s so fucking cute, or if it’s because I see her mother in her, or if it’s because deep down inside I want to fuck this chick, and I’m making up excuses, but I want to see what happens with her, and I don’t want to do it wrong.”

“You probably don’t want to do it wrong because of what she’s been through, Brother. You’re just trying to protect her.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. I nodded in agreement. “Good point.”

“As far as the other shit goes, if you don’t know the answer, nobody does. I can tell you this: nobody was wilder than me, and when I met Tegan…” His mouth curled into a smirk and he shook his head. “Man, I’m telling ya. Shit changed like that.”

He snapped his fingers.

“You didn’t see it coming?” I asked.

“Shit, Brother. It was like I got hit by a bus. But before that? I wondered. Just like you are now. And there I was, treating this girl different than anyone I’d ever met. We went for rides, and I didn’t try and fuck her. We went to dinner, and I didn’t try and fuck her. Hell, I was scared to kiss her when I took her home from our date. Dude, it was bat shit crazy.”

“Are you shittin’ me?” I coughed a laugh. “You? Scared to kiss a bitch?”

He chuckled. “True fucking story, I’m telling ya. But listen. My pop said this. When you know, you know. And, he was right. The only way you’re going to find out is to try. So, ask the chick out. If the mom doesn’t like it, tell her to kick rocks.”

I extended my hand. “Appreciate you, Brother.”

And, just like that, I made my decision.

I was going to ask Alexandra out on an official date.

To my mother’s house.

TWELVE

Lex

I stood on the porch, waiting eagerly to hear his approaching motorcycle. A text message of are you home? from him got a prompt yes response from me. He then said he wanted to talk to me in person. When I asked what it was about, he simply responded we’ll talk when I get there.

As I heard the motorcycle’s engine in the distance, I became apprehensive. Not knowing what event called for an early evening surprise visit didn’t sit well with me, and although I was probably mistaken, thoughts of repercussions from Calle 18’s gang came to mind.

I gazed toward the sound, waiting for him to come over the top of the hill. Like magic, he appeared, the exhaust cackling behind him as he sped toward me.

He rolled into the drive, took off his helmet, and pulled his cap down low on his head. As he got off the bike he glanced at me and grinned. Then his eyes fell to the sidewalk, and he sauntered toward me with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, seeming nervous as he approached.

He stopped at the front of the porch. His eyes were fixed on my knees.

What the fuck?

“Nice, aren’t they?” I asked, my voice thick with sarcasm.

“What’s that?” He looked up, but not enough that I could see the eyes that were hidden beneath the bill of his hat.

“My knees,” I said dryly. “You’re staring at them, and it’s weird.”

He pulled the bill of his cap up slightly and grinned. “Sorry.”

He still hadn’t made eye contact. His focus was now on my twat. “What’s going on?” I twisted my hips to the side and motioned toward the door. “Want to come in?”

His hands went into his pockets again. He shrugged slightly.

“You don’t know if you want to come in?”