CHAPTER TWO

ALEX

The music thrums through me and has my fingers tapping on the steering wheel as I drive home after a long day of work. Despite being tired, a sense of well-being fills me as I belt out a few lyrics. The floorboards of my truck are dusty with clumps of drying mud from my work boots and the smell of my own sweat teases at my nose even as the wind rushes through my opened window.

Stopping at a red light, I look over and grin down at a guy in a low-slung black Mercedes. He looks harassed as his mouth snaps repeatedly as he frowns and pounds a hand on his wheel in annoyance. No doubt he's caught up in the rat race. Even after he's off work, he's never really off work. Poor asshole doesn't know what he's missing.

The light turns green, and I take off, the throaty growl of my truck filling the air as I leave Mr. Mercedes and the rest of the world behind me.

Years ago, I envied guys like him.

Not anymore.

He's chained to his job to afford his car, his lifestyle, and no doubt some high-maintenance woman that cares more about his bank account than about him.

My job means I can do what I want. I put in my day's work, and yeah, I work for someone else, but when I leave I don't take the job or any stress home with me. Sure, my muscles might ache, and my neck might get burned. Doesn't matter. That's a small price to pay for the freedom I enjoy.

My bank account isn't flush and years ago I spent my Friday paycheck before Monday even rolled around, so I don't have a lot to show for things. Which suits me fine. Less material things to weigh me down.

I live in a tiny house that I can haul with my truck whenever the urge strikes me to pick up and see some different area of the USA. As long as I can lift a shovel and work a backhoe, I can get a job.

Life is simple and life is good.

At home in the shower, washing away the day's accumulated grime and dirt, a muscle in my back gives a painful twinge. It's a less than subtle reminder that I'm thirty-six and a long day of work isn't without some wear and tear. Trying to reach the ache and massage it, I bang my elbow into the corrugated metal making up the sides of the shower and hiss out a curse.

I'm a big guy and tiny house living while cost-efficient isn't always the most convenient.

Grunting, I give up on the sore spot and finish my shower before my hot water runs out. A brisk towel-off of my body and short brown hair, toss on some clean jeans and a t-shirt, and I'm ready for my evening.

My back is forgotten about as I hop in my truck and take off for the bar. It's wing and half-priced beer night and I can't wait.

It doesn't take me long to get to Breakers, and I immediately spot a few of the guys. I shoulder my way in and give Angie the blonde waitress a wink as she takes my order.

When she leaves, Cal's elbow digs into my side as he snickers. "You still hittin' that?"

I throw him an incredulous glare. "Shit no. Angie's engaged, man. I don't mess with taken women."

"Oh fuck," Jeremy groans. "I'm sorry about that."

Pulling a rumpled twenty out of my battered leather wallet, I raise mystified eyes to see what has Jeremy so upset. "What are you yapping about?"

His weathered face scrunches up. "Angie being engaged," he says slowly, like I'm hard of hearing or something.

"What? Good for her. That's what she wanted: commitment, marriage, you know, the whole settling down bit." I shrug and feel that muscle pulling in my back again. "I wasn't interested, so she moved on."

Angie returns carrying a big tray of beers and saucy wings, whose smell makes my mouth water. She plucks the bills from our hands after placing the food on the table, along with a handful of napkins. I get a glimpse of the sparkler on her left ring finger and, for an odd moment, something in my chest twists worse than the pain in my back.

We had a casual thing, hitting each other up whenever the mood struck. We weren't exclusive and a few times she turned me down when I called her up because she already had company and that never bothered me. Her taking up with her now-fiancé also didn't bug me, so I'm not exactly sure why the sight of that ring is messing with me tonight.

"Too much time in the sun," I mutter to myself, digging into the plate of wings.

While we munch, the conversation flows, as does the beer. I catch sight of a familiar head of bright red hair across the room and raise my hand in greeting. Tom grins back and gives a cheery wave. He's a big fucker and works in sanitation for the town. We went to school together and I swear I never saw that guy without a smile on his face.

It's the damnest thing. I've hopped from state to state since I left home at eighteen, yet somehow keep ending up here close to my hometown. I toss a bone down and wipe my hands.

"Gotta hit the can," I mutter to nobody in particular as I leave our table.

Making my way across the bar, I catch sight of Candy and speed up, letting out a sigh when I duck into the safety of the men's room. Then again, with Candy, I wouldn't put it past her to try for a quickie in a stall. Hearing some guy destroying the only stall in the men's room, I figure I'm safe as I whip out my dick and piss.

A year ago, Candy and I had a drunken hook-up. It was a onetime thing that I had no interest in repeating. Sadly, Candy didn't feel the same and would hint at another go around any time she caught me.

Breakers seems to be her top spot and if I were smart I'd stop coming here, but the wings are too good to give up. Besides, if she can deal with rejection, then I can stop being a pussy and keep on telling her no. Maybe one day it will sink in that I'm not interested.

Today isn't that day.

No sooner do I clear the door of the men's bathroom before a hand is wrapping around my bicep, long bright pink nails digging in hard enough to sting.

"Alex," a husky voice purrs as Candy pulls herself close. The sweet smell of her perfume teases at my nose, but does nothing for my dick. Even the press of her large, soft breasts into my arm leaves me unaffected.

I know people don't think about guys being lonely, but the night I hooked up with Candy, I was lonely and wanted company. It was a purely physical thing with each of us using the other, but I left that encounter feeling even worse than before. I don't know what exactly I was hoping for. Whatever it was, I didn't get it.

Reaching down, I pry Candy's hand off me as gently as I can. "Candy."

Her wobbly smile tells me the beer she's clutching in her left hand isn't her first of the night.

"It's been a while, big boy," she says, trailing her nails down the middle of my shirt and showing no signs of stopping when she reaches my belt buckle. I have to grab her hand again before she grabs my dick right here in the damn bar.

"Fuck, Candy," I hiss. I don't want to be mean, but I'm not in the mood for her nonsense tonight.

Her pink lips stretch wide as she giggles. "Fuck, yeah, that's what I'm talking about."

Frantically, my blue eyes dart about looking for a way to extricate myself from this situation.

An unlikely hero appears.

Tom bumps into us and golden-brown beer splashes all over Candy's chest, saturating her low-cut, clinging white tank top. Tom, being Tom, immediately turns as red as his hair and begins sputtering apologizes while trying to wipe off Candy's shirt.

As he repeatedly brushes over her breasts with his big hands, Candy lets out an outraged shriek and shoves him off before stalking away.

Tossing me a morose look, Tom rapidly follows after her still bellowing apologizes.

Whether he realizes it or not, I owe Tom a beer next time I see him. I head back to the table with my friends in time to hear the news about Matt's girlfriend being pregnant.

That odd pain in my chest hits me again.

After toasting to Matt's impeding fatherhood, I decide the wings aren't settling well. I call it a night and endure some good-natured ribbing for leaving before it's even nine.

Maybe I am getting old. All I know is something about tonight has been off in a way I haven't felt before.

But tomorrow's another day and I gotta be up by six, so not staying out until the bar closes isn't a bad thing.

Whatever is bothering me will either get figured out or pass. Until then, life goes on.