“Sorry about what happened to you in there. Martin can be pretty intense. I’d say you get used to it, but I’ve been here for quite some time and haven’t yet.” Melanie smiled at him as she watched him pull a lighter out of his pocket and a cigarette. “Sorry about this, but sometimes you have to trade one addiction for a lesser one. I keep meaning to buy the gum, but I never was big on chewing anything. I guess I passed that Freudian test.”
Luckily it wasn’t windy, and most of the smoke didn’t reach Melanie, but she could smell the hint of menthol as he smoked. “It’s okay, I guess I understand. I mean, I am an alcoholic, right?” He scoffed, taking another drag. She had to admit, even though she hated the idea of cigarettes, he looked pretty hot and manly at the moment. “Maybe you could try one of those things that looks like a pen. They’re supposed to be better for you or something.”
“Supposed to be and are, are different things entirely.” He threw the cigarette onto the ground and stomped on it. “How would you like to see my motorcycle?” It was an odd question, but for some reason, Melanie was very curious to see it and find out why he wanted to show it to her. She nodded and followed him to the parking lot where she saw a black and red Harley Davidson parked. It looked well taken care of and very expensive.
“Nice bike,” she told him, leaning against the adjacent light pole. “So, you said you’ve been here for a while, how long?”
He seemed to hesitate, “A year, off and on. My job calls for me to be out of town a lot, so it’s hard to be here every week. I come when I can. It really does help, you know, at least being around people that understand. It’s like sanity among insanity.”
Melanie thought she understood what he meant. The outside world could never fully understand her struggle even if people cared and tried to help. These were people who understood, and as cheesy as the whole thing was, she could see how it would help someone like him, someone like her.
“So, is this the part where you ask me if I want a ride on your bike?” she joked after a short silence that was more contemplative than awkward. He gave her a sly smile and revved the engine, as he swung his leg over the other side. She could barely hear him over the roar of the engine.
“Maybe next time,” he called to her cryptically just as he drove away, leaving Melanie to eat his dust like he was some kind of Casanova. Normally she’d be mad or disgusted, but there was something that left her wanting more.
CHAPTER THREE
“Maybe next time? What the hell kind of dumb-ass response is that?” Andy found himself looking in the mirror and talking to himself while shaving. He had grown tired of his goatee and wanted a cleaner look. He wasn’t ready to admit it, but he was pretty sure it had a lot to do with meeting Melanie.
He could picture her in his mind, how beautiful she was with her slim and tall build, her tight jeans, and her jet black hair against her contrasting light pink skin. It had been the most amazing thing to watch her blush and to sit next to her and smell her musky scent. He wondered if the rest of her smelled like that, tasted like that. He couldn’t help but think about having his hands all over her.
There was something so different about her. She didn’t seem to be the type that belonged at the meeting. She had made an effort to look good, but she wasn’t superficial or some rich kid with too much money and nothing better to do with it but to buy drugs.
He wanted to kick himself for not saying anything more or getting her number. How did being off of the drugs make him even more scatterbrained? He screamed out to no one as he accidentally cut his chin and let out a string of expletives. His mind had not been on the task at hand. He reached for a Kleenex and wadded a piece up to place on the inured spot on his chin.
He began shaking his head at himself. Not only had he played coy with a beautiful woman that might actually like him, here he was talking to himself as usual. It was something he did often to soothe himself. He’d lived a solitary life for a while, which had gotten him into the scene he was involved in, which in turn led to his addiction.
He was still a part of the scene, after all it earned him money and he was good at it. Besides, it was almost impossible to get out. So, instead, he had moved to a luxury apartment in the suburbs and began leading a sort of double life. He spent much of his time alone, as far away from temptation as possible. It made it hard to meet people and just as hard to trust people, but it kept him safe.
He splashed on aftershave and stripped down to his boxers. He was tired and had an early morning, but he got the feeling sleeping wasn’t going to be as easy as it usual was with Melanie on his mind. As he walked through his empty apartment, he began switching off all the lights and hearing the silence that had come over the place. The area he lived in consisted of people that either stayed out all night or went to bed rather early, and he has no one by his side to feel the silence. In fact, it had been years since he had such a thing. His lifestyle made it pretty impossible to bring anyone else in. Was it time to try?