Drive

“That ought to learn ya,” I said on a laugh. “He really is talented. One of thousands in this city, Lex, don’t forget that. There’s always another front man.”

She turned to me, determined. “You’re right. Now let’s find someone drunker than us to buy us one more drink.” She pushed us past a few lingering people at the bar and yanked my arm so I was forced to dodge a protruding leg that could have caused me to face plant. Stumbling, I smacked the leg and caught myself directly in a lap. Something stiff and bright green brushed my cheek, and I looked at it with faint recognition before I apologized. “Sorry, dude, so sorry,” I offered, refusing eye contact before I yelled at Lexi, who was still trying to pull me in her direction. “Damn it, Lexi, slow down!” She looked back at me and apologized to the guy I’d just run over. “Sorry!” Submersed in the show, we were five songs into Dead Sergeants’ set when they took a break. Lexi had managed to get us a few more shots of whiskey with her persuasive tongue. I was close to hitting the wall when Usher starting to sing “Yeah.” In the year 2005, it seemed a rule among the masses, myself included, when “Yeah” was played, wherever it was played, the protocol was to lose your fucking mind. Some songs had that power, and within seconds, I was on the dance floor with Lexi as we danced like a couple of drunken sluts. It was everything I hoped my birthday would be. Until I hit that wall.



Hazel eyes seared into me as I hung my head, blank to the remainder of the night. Somehow, I knew the man staring at me from the recliner had saved my ass, and the ass of my snoring best friend on the floor. “Sorry. For whatever I did. Please don’t tell Paige about having to get us home.”

“Your secrets are safe with me,” Reid said as we both stood up at the same time. I tugged my skirt down and averted my eyes. “I hate this feeling.”

“What feeling?” he asked, his deep voice penetrating the dark room.

“The feeling that I have to apologize after a night like that.”

“So, don’t,” he said before he took a swallow of his beer and handed it to me. “Happy birthday.”

“What? No lecture for ‘little sister?’”

Reid paused at the door. “There’s nothing I can tell you, Stella. Nothing that you don’t already know.”

It was the first time he’d said my name, and it sent a small fire through me, despite my aching head. “But I’m safe?” The words tumbled out just as he opened the door. The porch light temporarily blinded us both before he slipped out without an answer.





21 Questions

50 Cent/Nate Dogg



“La Migra, La Migra, get down!” I yelled as I ran into the kitchen at The Plate Bar. Two of the cooks hastily dropped what they were doing and ran for the back door. I howled with laughter until my sister tapped me hard on the forehead.

“Damn it, Stella!” She took off after the fleeing cooks as Reid stood next to me at the stainless-steel counter, cashing out his tickets and thumbing through his tips.

He lifted a perfectly arched brow. “Do I even want to know what La Migra means?” he asked as the cooks resurfaced seconds later and proceeded to call me the devil, and several other choice words in our tongue.

“She told them border patrol was here and to get down,” Paige said as she rounded the corner and made her way back toward me. Her lips trembled as she tried to hide her laugh. “That’s so wrong, Stella. Why would you do that?”

“It was a drill,” I said as the cooks shot daggers from behind the counter, causing Reid to burst out laughing. I sauntered up to the line and blew them individual kisses before I reminded them of the earlier conversation they had that I overheard. Only one of them had the decency to lower their eyes.

“What’s she saying now?” Reid asked behind me.

“That she would marry every one of them if they didn’t already have a wife in Mexico and a girlfriend here.”

I turned around and crossed my arms. “I heard them bragging earlier about their women. About how tight my ass is, and you don’t even want to know what they said about you, sister. And now they’ve pissed themselves. You’re welcome.”

Smiling, Reid slowly shook his head while Paige blew out a heavy breath.

Paige snatched a bowl of fresh tortilla chips from my hand. “If the manager heard that, they could lose their jobs.”

“Oh, I’m sure the manager is very aware they are here illegally, and I’m sure they are being ripped off by the hour because of it. Get real, Paige,” I said as I gathered the Chula bottles and began wiping them down.

“I can’t believe I agreed to let you work here,” she muttered as she pushed through the swinging doors with a tray in hand.

“One big happy family!” I called after her and winked at Reid. He took his apron off and folded it a few times before he joined me to get our side work done. I’d been at the restaurant for a week, and though the tips were decent, I hated it.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

“Au contraire, mon frère, me and my notorious mouth are going to be wildly popular. Honesty will get me everywhere, especially as a journalist.”

I ignored the smell of Irish Spring as he leaned in close. “Honesty will get you enemies.”

I shrugged. “I call shit like I see it. Sugarcoating doesn’t help anyone, and it’s bad reporting. If I do a good enough job and stick my neck out there, I better be ready to deal with the backlash.”

“So, this you take seriously.”

Shoulder’s touching, we loaded up the napkin dispensers. “Music, always. I’m twenty. My education, my future, I take that seriously. This place?” I looked around the kitchen and wrinkled my nose. “Hell no. And why should I? If you ask me, you, Neil, and Paige are a little too stuck in this bullshit bubble of adulthood. This isn’t the future for any of you.”

I paused to look over at him. Our eyes locked. “For any of us.”

“Good to know. Now you can predict the future? Tell me, what’s mine?” His voice was filled with condescension.

“Better than what it is now.” I waited a beat. “You’re just going through a rough time.”

His back went straight and he narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t know anything. The world swings at you long and hard enough, little sister, you’re eventually going to hit your knees.”

“Well, I can take a punch.”

“Good for you.”

I let my eyes drift down his arrogant stance. From his plain black V-neck, dark jeans, and crossed black boots. I felt the confrontation radiating from him. He was tired, bitter, and pissed off at the world. As he should be. I saw a glimpse of his life in that apartment. Mr. Crowne seemed to be the king of nothing. I could feel his desperation as he stood next to me with a hand full of shitty tips, though his face gave zero away. His eyes always had a hard edge, even when he smiled. “Things will get better, Reid, believe me. Okay?”

He ran his fingers through his tangled hair and gave me a lip twitch. “Sure, little sister, whatever you say.”

“You just need something to look forward to.”

“Alright already, enough with the pep talk I didn’t ask for and don’t need.”

“Oh, good, then you know everything, too.”

His pale green irises seemed to grow brighter, and his nostrils flared. He stared at my lips as if he were willing them to stop moving. I smiled despite him. We were in a silent standoff as Paige walked back into the kitchen and put a ticket up.

“I just got two more tables. It’s going to be at least an hour. Why don’t you guys take off for a little bit?”

“I’m going to meet up with the guys. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Reid said as he gathered his apron and his cash.

Paige’s eyes lit up. “Take Stella. She would love it.”

“What would I love?” I asked as Reid looked between the two of us.

“Some other time,” he said dismissively as he walked through the double doors.

I turned to Paige in question. “What would I love?”

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