Burn Out *18+*

Chapter 2

I knew ten minutes into my date that I hated the man sitting across from me. At first, I ignored his stare, though there was something slightly unnerving and demeaning about it. The reality was that I was single at twenty-five – far too dedicated to my education and my progression – but even I was not above feeling lonely and having physical needs. I had been on dates like this a thousand times, we would drink, I would force a few pity laughs for jokes told in bad taste, food would arrive, I would be half drunk by the time supper ended and feel liberal enough to go home with a stranger. The next morning, I would block their number and life would go on.

I should have backed out when I realized the fact that he had a similar hair style to Dexter and it bothered me. Seeing the short one the side, long on the top style on this blond man made me grit my teeth, as irrational as it was, I felt like he shouldn't have had the same cut as someone as wholesome as Dexter. My second warning came when he just gawked at my ass as I climbed into his well-aged escalade. The third red flag was that I was drunker than I anticipated, obviously opting for downing drinks than listening to him talk about his ex-wife and engaging with him.

But I pushed on. Whether it was genuine loneliness or the fact that he was my ride that kept me there, I didn't know. I just downed another old fashioned and ordered a gimlet to tide me over. At least the place was decent, but it seemed that the prices had more to do with the ambiance than the actual food because my tofu bowl was subpar at best.

It took everything in me not to pull out my phone and scroll through ads when he started spewing a story about how he screwed over his ex-wife in the divorce. But when his judgement gaze swept over a plus-size girl, my hackles raised. Suddenly being silent didn't seem like an option anymore.

"They used to only hire attractive people to wait tables here," he muttered, almost under his breath. If he thought I was going to let it slide because he didn't yell it, he was a fool.

"I think she's perfect," I stated, sucking down my limey drink. My words were simple and short, but I could feel my body tightening, prepping for a war.

"Oh, come on, if she went to the gym she could be so much healthier and so much hotter. It's a shame she doesn't care about her health."

"As if you know anything about her health. Her purpose on this planet is not to serve you." As if our waitress had witnessed my suffering for long enough, she placed down a new cocktail and cleared away my old glass without so much as a pause. I slammed it back immediately.

"She's probably insecure—"

"You have no idea how she feels and she does not need to adjust herself your gaze."

"What are you, some kind of raging feminist?"

My hand shot up and the lovely lady who had served us tonight nodded, racing off to get the cheque. I brought my gaze back to him, fully aware that my cheeks were reddened with anger. "Uh, yes, that's exactly what I am."

Thankfully, the cheque came quickly and I was able to pay my portion without wasting another breath on that man. After shooting the waitress a kind smile, I zipped off to the bathroom, fully aware that this lizard of a man had been my ride. I rested a hip against the sink, a little unnerved by how delayed my reactions felt as I pulled out my phone. I must've been drunker than I assumed. Still, anything that helped turn this experience into a dull memory was appreciated.

"Hey," Dex greeted after two rings.

"Hi."

There was a little pause as he waited for me to say something, then gave up. "I thought you were on a date."

"He fat-shamed a girl. Then he got annoyed with me and called me a raging feminist."

"Yikes, are you okay?"

"Yeah, but he was my ride."

He didn't even hesitate, didn't even suck in a breath before he said, "Text me the address, I'll come get you."

I hid in the bathroom to avoid further conflict, which led to me having to awkwardly smile at other girls, hoping that they were drunker than I was. When he shot me a text, I ambled out with my chin high, just in case the douchebag was still floating around. Thankfully, he wasn't there, but Dexter's green van was waiting right outside. The feeling of relief was immediate.

The ride home was quiet and comfortable. He talked a little bit, mostly to himself, about the changes he made to the van. I heard the words 'six liter' and 'twin turbo' far too often to be fully oblivious to what this van was actually capable of, but when he talked about the smaller changes like tires and air intakes, I got a little lost.

Through some unspoken agreement, I left to shower and get rid of my make up but knew that he would be waiting for me when I returned. That's just how Dex was, always stable, always patient. I didn't have to tell him that I needed his company for him to know it.

In fact, he knew me so well that when I came out of the shower, he had made a little nest from blankets and pillows on the couch and a bottle of my favorite wine was uncorked and waiting on the coffee table. Dexter himself was sitting on the couch beside the nest with Inkwell curled up in his lap, a beer in his hand.

"So there's not going to be a second date," he teased.

"Fuck, I was mad that he even had your haircut," I confessed, swigging down a solid swallow of the dark liquid.

He grinned. "You like my hair?"

"Of course, I do. That asshole did not deserve it though."

"It's a haircut, Lonny. What are you, the salon gatekeeper?"

I glared at him, but it was hard to even pretend to be annoyed when my savior was rubbing little circles on my cat's head, watching me drink cheap wine. "All I'm saying is that men like that should not be able to masquerade around like they are normal, good guys. He was so repulsive I could pretty much smell it on him."

I downed what felt like another gallon of wine in one go as he pulled up my favorite historical drama. We were only five minutes in when Inkwell had purred himself to sleep and I had swaddled myself. I was so comfortable that when my phone rang, I almost didn't unravel myself.

But the name on my screen made my rip the blankets off.

"Jasper," I blurted into the receiver, suddenly so aware that I was slurring. Dex glanced at me, quirking an eyebrow.

"London, it's been a while," my cousin said. I think it was his way of being polite, but his voice was like ice and it almost sounded mean.

"Uh, yes, it has. I heard about your engagement. Congratulations." Of course, I had heard about his engagement. It had been plastered on every news paper in Canada for the previous months.

But apparently, we weren't going to talk about popping the question. "Are you drunk?"

"I... I might be." I was a functional adult, well over the legal age of drinking. I had nothing to be ashamed of, but my stomach still twisted.

"Perfect." Why did he have to sound like my mother in that moment? "Your mom told me that you haven't gotten a single call back for any of the operations you applied for."

Salt in the wound. "Well—"

"I have a proposition for you."

~~~Distraction Section~~~

Hello everyone and welcome to my first distraction section. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Sid. This is the part of the book where you get to know me and I get to know you. For those of you who have read my previous books, be prepared to see a lot of Jasper in this one. And after over ten novels, I have decided to try my hand at a smut-heavy work so get ready for that. 

Question of the Day: If you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get?