coming at me, unfazed by my supposedly lethal bullets. Killing men in real life is easy. I know where to aim, what will happen, and the repercussions that follow. Did it change me? I don’t think so. It changes the person who has been killed. Me? I was trained to do it. Trained to succeed in whatever action I pursue. The other guy ceases to exist, his family and friends feel a loss. That’s change.
That’s the fucking kicker when it comes to my personal life. I can’t get a damn girlfriend that holds my interest. Between the two I currently have, I think it’s a nice balance. If I could merge them into one human by doing some chemistry, maybe they could be the one person I settle down with. As it stands, I crave a strong friendship that sparks something more, something deeper, and I don’t have that with my girlfriends.
“Steve, it’s not like you don’t have role models. Look at your parents’ relationship. We’ve been together forever. We’re normal, well situated individuals. Can’t you bring one of your girlfriends home for Christmas one of these days?” My mother is pleading now. She senses my problems with finding the right one, too. I’ll bring a girlfriend home next year just to placate her, and so I can fuck. Because damn, going a whole week and a half without a lay is tough and I don’t cheat on them even though I probably could. My dating life is precarious and odd to most. There’s no way I can spill those details to Sandra Warner. She’d bake a tin of brownies and then combust into dust motes made of chocolate.
“I’ll go out to the country bar tonight, Mom. I’ll find a real winner. Marry a nice southern girl. Give you some grandbabies that you will probably never see because she’ll divorce me when she understands how many days out of the year I’ll be gone.” I smile, raising one brow. “Sound like a plan?”
She scowls. “You are incorrigible. You know that? You wouldn’t be in this situation at all if you dealt with your emotions instead of sitting on them.” She’s referring to Morganna Sterns. The woman who got away. “That’s a southern girl who would make any family proud.”
I nod. “She married a great guy, Mom. Every other guy on the planet pales in comparison to Stone. I only wanted the best for her anyways. She got it. I’m happy for her.” Lie.
“Fine. Go out to the bar tonight. Don’t bring home any promiscuous young things.”
I laugh, ask her for some baked goods, and contemplate whether banging a promiscuous young thing may be worth it. My girls would never know and maybe, just maybe, she’ll have an accent, drive a hard bargain, and have a horrible singing voice.
_______________
The country bar was fun. A bunch of my old buddies were there and we drank too much, which led to dancing too much, which led to making out with some random brunette in a bathroom stall. Bless her heart, she dropped to her knees to suck my cock, but my girlfriend’s face flashed in my mind at that most inopportune moment and I couldn’t let it happen. I may talk a big game, but at the end of the day my mom is right. I’ve had excellent role models and even I have my crazy ass limits. She didn’t have an accent, either.
That night I got dropped off by one of my sober friends and found my way into my childhood bedroom. I don’t sleep in here when I come home because it has a twin bed and my feet dangle off the end, but it still holds everything that reminds me of the past. The stuff I couldn’t fit or take with me to San Diego is also here.
I dig through a trunk of stuff I sent home when I was in between apartments and was going to spend a long period of time overseas. Nestled in one messy corner is a jewelry box. Something I planned to give to Morganna when she came out to visit me. I was going to lay it all out there for her, tell her how I felt, and ask her to be mine. Unfortunately, as soon as Stone locked his gaze on Morg, it was over. Does love at first sight really exist? I think it may have for Stone. She hadn’t even spoken a word and he had to have her for his