Page 10 of Collins
I take a step back and shove my hands in my hoodie pocket. My weight shifts from one foot to the other and my face splits into what I hope is a sexy smile. Johnnie raises the blinds all the way and inches the window open, propping her forearms on thesill, peering up at me through heavy eyelids. I’m granted a smile, and fuck, she’s cute.
“Can I help you, Mr. Combs? I was just getting to the good part of my dream when you woke me up, so this better be good.
“Are you going to tell me what the good part involved?” I raise a brow in her direction and don’t miss the hint of a smile she’s trying so hard to keep from me.
“I’ll think about it, but first tell me why you’re at my bedroom window like I’m the Sidney Prescott to your Billy Loomis.”
“I came to ask you what your favorite scary movie is.”Two can play this game.
“Pet Semetery.” Johnnie gives me a dead stare and crosses her arms over her chest.
And I’m a straight male with a penis, so, of course my eyes dart to the cleavage she’s now hoisting to the stars.
“Anything else? Or can I go back to sleep?” she quips.
“Come on a little adventure with me?” Waggling my eyebrows, I give her my best attempt at a seductive smile. I think it’s working too, because I can immediately see the intrigue beaming through that slight flush on her cheeks.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” As much as it pains me with the nearly-sheer white tank top and tiny short-shorts she’s donning, I instruct her to put some clothes on and meet me in my truck. I don’t give her time to protest before I spin on my heel and head toward my Chevy, adjusting the front of my jeans as I go.
I hop up, crank the key, and get enough heat blowing to take the chill off. It’s unusually cool for a June night. Reaching over to grab some junk out of the passenger seat and toss it in the back, I notice my girl already running across the street toward me.
Brown hair in a messy bun on top of her head, stray strands hanging out every which way, black shorts barely visible beneath her large hoodie and a pair of flip flops. How is this dressed-down look of hers so sexy? I stretch over the console and pop the passenger door open.
“Hop on up, beautiful. Let’s get lost.”
She doesn’t so much as pause, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t look perfect in that shotgun seat. No matter what time has in store for me, I know right here, in this moment, that I’m going to do whatever it takes to make that her permanent spot.
“Is that four-wheeler in the bed”—she slings a thumb over her shoulder—“part of these plans you have?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Giving her a pat on the knee, I pull out onto the road. “Do you ever get so in your head that sleep evades you, Johnnie? It happens to me more than I’d like to admit. And when it does, I usually find myself in the same spot, doing the same thing. Tonight, I wanted company. I’m glad you’re down. Now, pick something to listen to, we’ve got a half hour drive.” I gesture to the black binder of CDs, and she leans forward, grabbing it, and flipping through. Finally, she settles on a burned CD titledgood shitwritten in black Sharpie, and I smile.
“Good choice,” I say as she slides the disk in the player. The beginning chords of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” flows through my speakers.
She leans back, propping her feet on the dash, bubblegum pink polish on her toes and we make the drive in comfortable silence—enjoying the soundtrack to what feels like the beginning ofus.
“Have you ridden before?” I had her stay put while I unloaded my old red Yamaha. Just like my pickup, this four-wheeler belonged to my dad, and this land, these woods, is where he and I came to unwind…for as long as I can remember.
She’s leaning against the tailgate, chewing on a thumbnail. “No, I haven’t. Are you going to teach me how to drive it?”
I like her ambition.
“I’ll teach you anything you want to learn.” I give her a wink. Although only lit by the moonlight and a bit of ambient glow from the headlight, I see the saturation in her cheeks. “If you want to drive this thing, you will. But tonight, do you mind if I take the reins, while you just hold on and enjoy the ride? It’s kind of what I do anytime life starts weighing me down. I come out here. I inhale these trees and dirt-turned-mud after a good rain, and just let loose.”
She doesn’t even respond with words, just climbs on behind me, like she’s done it a thousand times, wrapping her arms around my waist, slow but confident. My heart takes off just as fast as I do. With both of her hands clasped in one of mine, we weave in and out of tree trunks, ducking under branches, and getting painted in mud. Between the adrenaline, her warm chest pressed to my back, and the way she’s squeezing my torso, my heart won’t be slowing down anytime soon. I can feel the vibration of her squeals and laughter the entire time we ride.
And while I hate to even slow down, after making our way through the woods and back a few times, I come to a stop. It’s only when I ease off the throttle that I realize I’m still gripping her fists in my hand and we both stay frozen in that position, breathing heavily, when I remove my hand, and break the silence.
“Well, how was your first time?”
I can feel a puff of air escape her on the back of my neck, I assume it’s a laugh. She gently slides her arms along my rib cage and leans back. The cool air hits my back, highlighting the absence of her, and I deflate a bit.
“Honestly, that’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I think I have mud in places no one should have mud, but thank you for bringing me with you.”
“Anytime.” I turn slightly and look over my shoulder at the girl that’s slowly filling a hole in my heart that I wasn’t even aware of. “Let’s get you back home.”
When we pull into the trailer court, the stars are becoming far less visible and fog rising from the lake is moving our way. Johnnie fell asleep with her head against her window, hands tucked under her chin, and my sweatshirt over her like a blanket. She doesn’t stir when I put my truck in park, and I take a moment to study her. It’s hard to tell where the mud ends and her freckles begin. One leg is tucked beneath her other knee on the seat, and I laugh as her toes wiggle in her sleep.
I can’t explain it, but life feels a little less heavy when she’s around.
