Page 39 of Luci’s Lullaby

I tune my guitar as I watch the door. There’s no sign of her tonight. I guess I need to get my shit together, so I can work. I’m not sure why I’m even looking for her.

“What hottie has your attention tonight?” Mark laughs.

I frown, agitated with everyone’s thoughts of me. “No one.”

“Bullshit,” he replies.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not a man-whore,” I huff.

Mark cocks his brow as Mike and John laugh. “Yes, you are.”

“What the fuck ever. Let’s play,” I growl.

Mike twists his mouth. “Bet me.”

“Fuck you.” I flip him off. “I’m not betting on whether I get laid or not.”

“Fifty bucks says you do.” He snorts.

My jaw pops as I grit my teeth. “Make it a hundred and you’re on.”

“No way, all you have to do is decide to not go home with one and you win.” John chuckles.

“Are we gonna play or are y’all so interested in my sex life that we need to keep shootin’ shit,” I growl.

John twirls his sticks. “I’m ready, boss.”

“Let’s do it and you can take the blonde in the center home after.” Mark snickers.

“Maybe I will.” I plug in and drown him out.

Why in the hell does everyone keep talking about my sex life? I’m single. I work hard and play harder. Is that a problem? You know what, it’s not and Mark’s right. I’m going to get laid and forget about the rest.

“Hey, ladies. How are y’all doin’ tonight?” I pull long and hard on the neck of my guitar. “Are you feelin’ lucky?”

The crowd roars, and I tear into the night. After the day I’ve had, I’m ready to forget. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no better way. I want to get lost in the rhythm and find solace like I used to when I was younger.

Later that night, I slide into my truck seat with the blonde scooting across the seat, sitting next to me. Her hands are all over me, and I can’t wait to get her back to my place.

Traveling down Highway Seventeen, I’m totally into the woman groping me at the moment. When I shift gears, so does she. Well, I might add. Her hands are down my pants, and we’re both about to get happy.

“Heads up, we’0re caught at a traffic light,” I say to her.

I come to a stop, putting the brakes on everything. I scan the area, looking for the police because I’d like to not get a ticket for indecent exposure.

“Is anyone around or can I keep going?” she purrs.

“Just another second, it’s about to change.”

The minute I think we’re home free and the light is about to let us go, something catches my eye. I turn my head, staring at the sign. It’s like it’s mocking me, making my face flame.

“Son of a bitch,” I growl.

“Something wrong?” She lifts her head.

“No. Not at all.”

The light turns, and I hit the gas. I drive as fast as I lawfully can to get her home and buried deep into her. No, I don’t know her name. No, I don’t care. If she doesn’t think more of herself, then why should I?