Page 68 of Money Shot

SIENNA

May 8th,2015

Vince and I had known each other for almost a year. The last eleven months had flown by – quicker than any other time in my life – and I wondered if a life with Vince was just going to whoosh past, leaving me with many memories and no real recollection of where all the time had gone.

Spending time with Vince was like watching an action packed movie or reading a fabulous book; it passed at three or four times faster than any other time. I loved the watch he bought me for Christmas more than anything, but if we were out on a date all I had to do was look at it, and I was immediately reminded that the night was all but over.

It was apparent the satisfying things in life caused my mind to relax, and the passage of time was immeasurably fast when my mind was less resistant to what was being processed. Life’s stressful events made me tense, and when I was stressed out the clock seemed to stand still, making my shitty days last forever and my great ones over before they ever got a good start. Life would be so much more enjoyable if the tables were turned; and the memorable times seemed to last forever, leaving the tension filled days to blow past like speeding freight train.

As I heard the rumble of the motorcycle’s exhaust, I grabbed my purse and ran to the door. I pulled the door closed and turned toward the street just in time to see him come around the corner and accelerate toward my house.

Riding on Vince’s motorcycle was one of my favorite things ever, and even though it was ugly to look at, it was delightful to ride on. Mentally, I compared his motorcycle to oatmeal; something grotesque to stare at, but one thing I clearly couldn’t imagine life without.

As he pulled into the driveway I jumped off the porch, hurried down the walk, and stood by the garage door waiting. He slowed down, turned around in the drive, and faced the street. With the change of weather from winter to a very warm spring, his thick beard was long gone, and he was back to having nothing but short stubble on his face. Sad that my beard porn winter was over, but enjoying his new look, I lifted my leg over the seat and got on.

“Glasses,” he said over his shoulder.

Shit.

I opened my purse, grabbed my glasses, and put them on. Remembering all of the things I had to do when riding the motorcycle didn’t come naturally to me, because I didn’t ride on it often enough. I did always remember that I needed to hang onto him to keep from falling off, but each time Vince pulled out of my driveway, I made it a point not to, because it felt like riding a rollercoaster when I teetered back in the seat as he pulled away. And he always pulled out of my driveway slowly, which allowed me to enjoy the feeling each time.

After placing my feet on the rear pegs, I tapped him on the shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“Ready,” I said as I lifted my hands out to my side and closed my eyes.

He pulled out of the driveway slowly; causing me to rock back in the seat and making me feel as if I was riding an amusement park ride. As I opened my eyes and grabbed him around the waist, he accelerated up the block, leaving me to wonder if he realized I enjoyed coming out of the driveway slowly, and he purposely did so for a that reason alone.

It seemed Vince knew everything, so I chose not to ask, deciding he did what he did for a reason.

As we rolled to a stop at the end of the block, Vince tilted his head to the side. “There’s this cool little place in Andover. It has a pretty small selection, but it’s great food. Guy started out on one of those little street vendor grilles with fucking wheels on it.”

He glanced in either direction, and pulled away from the stop sign gradually. “Maybe fifteen minutes to get there, sound good?”

I didn’t ever care what I ate with Vince, simply being with him was enough. Hell, he could starve me, and as long as I was starving with him, I really wouldn’t care.

I leaned forward and rested my chin on his shoulder. “Sounds great.”

“Andover it is,” he said, twisting the throttle a little more after he spoke.

I gripped him a little bit tighter and pulled my chest tight to his back. Feeling my body against his provided a level of comfort I had not previously known. It didn’t matter if he was hugging me, making love to me, or we were riding on the motorcycle, but when our bodies were touching and I was positively held in place, I felt as if nothing could harm me.

With Vince as my lover, I felt the only person who could harm me was me.

What seemed like five minutes and very little traffic later, we pulled into a small and rather sparsely occupied strip mall. At the far end was a small restaurant with a nice unoccupied covered seating area outside. As Vince came to a stop in a parking stall adjacent to the restaurant, I envisioned us sitting alone in the outdoor patio, talking and eating while enjoying the warm western evening sun.

We walked to the door side by side, and Vince pulled against the handle. The door rattled, but didn’t open. He pulled against it again, rattling the windows of the storefront.

We both gazed through the tinted glass into the restaurant. Everything was in place, but it was obviously closed. It seemed odd on a Friday night that the restaurant would be closed, but that sure seemed to be the case.

I studied the sign positioned above the door, grabbed my phone, and Googled the name of the restaurant.

“Closed. Says it right here. All of his restaurants are closed, this one was the last, it closed just yesterday,” I said, pointing to the screen of my phone.

“Motherfucker!” he shouted as he kicked the frame of the door.

From the force of his kick, the glass door flexed inward terribly. As it bowed back outward, it opened.

“Oh my god,” I said as I glanced over each shoulder. “Did you break it?”