Page 4 of Taking the Pitch
A few seconds later when the rain lightens up and Kessler releases Lucy’s lips, a decision is made that Dad and Kess will go pull the cars around so Mom, Lucy, and Hudson don’t have to get completely soaked. Me, being the lone wolf, will just leave from the lot. I say my goodbyes and make a beeline to the only three cars left in the lot. Lifting my hand to my dad and brother, I get in the car and head off to the club.
Two hours and a couple of drinks later, and I’m beginning to think I made the wrong decision. The thumping of the music is giving me a headache, and the girl that attached herself to me as soon as I walked in isn’t helping. Apparently, she’s a chatty drunk, and she’s sucking down the drinks like they’re water.
I let my eyes wander her body again and wonder how she’s still upright. She maybe weighs 120 pounds soaking wet. Her clothes have left little to the imagination. It’s basically two scraps of fabric covering, and I use that word loosely, her important parts. To top it all off, she’s wearing heels that makemyfeet hurt just looking at them.
“Want to get out of here?” she asks hopefully, noticing my gaze.
Yes, but not with you.
Leaning forward in the booth, I set my half empty beer down on the table. “Actually, I have a headache. I think I’m going to head out,” I tell her, hitching my thumb over my shoulder.
She gives me a pouty lip, and then her eyes light up. “I can help you with that,” she says, scooting closer to me. Any closer and she’ll be in my lap. “You know, take your mind off the pain,” she says suggestively, with a wink.
I pry her hands off my arms and scoot towards the outer part of the booth. “As fun as that sounds, I’m going to have to take a rain check. Maybe next time,” I tell her, standing. She shimmies her way out of the booth. I have no idea how her clothes stay where they are, but she manages to keep all her important parts covered.
Once she’s standing, she digs in her purse that’s no bigger than my fist and extracts a folded piece of paper. “Here’s my number.” She reaches forward and tucks the paper into my front pocket, letting her hand linger there for a minute. “Give me a call when you want to continue this,” she says, looking up at me through her lashes.
Pulling my keys from my other pocket, I give her a wink and nod to Nate behind the bar. He gives me a wave and I leave out the back.
Once I’m in my car, I reach into my pocket and take out the paper and unfold it.
Huh, I totally thought her name was Sandra. Crumpling the paper, I toss it onto the passenger floorboard and start my car. Pulling out of the lot, I start the 10-minute drive to my apartment.
I’m lost in my thoughts of why I didn’t take that girl home when I normally would. She was beautiful. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Except she was a little too skinny for my taste. I like a woman with more curves, something I can grab onto while I’m driving into her, preferably from behind. I reach down and adjust myself, trying to remember the last time I got laid. It’s been a while.
I’m trying to remember exactly how long it’s been when all of a sudden blue and red lights flash and the whoop of a siren sounds.
Fuck.
The siren whoops again and I hit my blinker, seeing a space on the shoulder to safely pull over. I blow out a breath once I’m stopped and try to figure out what I did.
After what feels like an eternity, the officer and his partner get out of their car and make their way over to my car. One taps the window and I roll it down, squinting against the rain that’s blowing in and the light from his flashlight. “Officer…” I look at his nameplate. “Blackstone, what seems to be the problem?” I ask, holding my hand up slightly against the light.
“Son, do you know how fast you were going?” he asks, holding his light down now that he got a good look at me.
I blink a few times, letting my eyes adjust from the assault of his flashlight, then look up at him. He’s older, salt and pepper hair at the temples. His eyes look like they’ve seen some things, and the wrinkles at the corners suggest long and stressful days on the job. I respect the hell out of law enforcement and I’m not looking to make this guy’s night hard. “Uh, no officer, I’m sorry I don’t. Was I speeding?”
“Does 40 in a 25 sound like speeding?” he asks, raising his bushy eyebrows.
Shit.
“Uh, yes sir. It does. I’m sorry. I’ll pay better attention next time.”
“License and registration,” he says, indicating he’s not done with me.
I grab my wallet from the cup holder and pause. “Uh, my registration is in the glove box. Can I reach for it?”
He nods and I move across my car, getting into the box and pulling out the paper he asked for. I blow out a breath and hand over both items. He reaches for them, then stops. “Son, have you been drinking?”
Fuck.
I stare at him, trying to decide if I want to lie or tell him the truth. I opt for the truth, since he obviously smelled it on me, or he wouldn’t have asked. “Uh, yes sir, I had a beer atIgnite.” Idon’t add the drinks I had before that. That was hours ago, they have to be out of my system by now. Right?
His eyes flick from me to his partner, then back to me. “Do you mind stepping out of the car and coming to the back to do a voluntary test for me?”
Son of a bitch.
I nod and move to get out. He steps back, keeping his flashlight on me. Opening my door, I slowly get out, keeping my hands where he can see them, and walk to the back of the car where the other officer is waiting.
