I glanced over my shoulder at the cardboard snack display. "Oh, sorry."
Bags of fried pork rinds were scattered about. Pork rinds were my favorite. I ate them with hot Tabasco sauce drizzled on top. At least I could get some for the road.
AJ and I looked at the girl in unison and the expression on her face told me she was totally unimpressed with our heroics. AJ turned to me and said, "You asshole, that guy didn't have a gun." Then smacked me on the arm.
I threw him a look like, "shut up," then turned to the girl. Her beautiful face was still "not impressed" but man, she was beautiful.
"Are you okay, sweetheart? Did he hurt you?" I asked.
The girl rolled her eyes and shook her head, her long wispy bangs swaying with the movement. "Um … No. I'm fine, no thanks to you two."
The girl walked around from behind the cash register and made her way to the toppled pork-rind display. I followed to help her set it upright and gave a head jerk, signaling AJ to join in.
As she bent over to pick up the scattered bags, my eyes perused the curves of her nice ass. The little angel sitting on my shoulder told me I should go straight to a motel and take a cold shower until my thoughts ran clean. The little devil on the other shoulder said, "But what fun would that be? Go for the real thing."
Still puzzled as to why she wasn't upset, I said, "You were about to be robbed." I set the display upright. "Why weren't you calling the police?"
The girl's hands dropped to her hips with a huff. "No way, douche bags. That guy's just a local homeless man."
Douche bag? Why all the hostility? I just tried to save her life.
I eyed her up and down. She was definitely hot, ebony black hair, long legs, nice ass-and tits, which dominated my focus while we continued talking.
Damn. She made even simple work clothes look sexy. She wore jeans and a white shirt with the company logo on the left breast pocket. The top buttons opened enough to show cleavage and the next two buttons strained across the expanse of her ample breasts.
Nice.
Very inviting.
But her attitude sucked.
"But I saw it," I said, motioning to AJ with a hand. "We both did. A guy, dressed in all black, you're here all by yourself, his hand in his pocket. He had a gun … er … well, at least I thought he did." I shrugged, realizing my wild imagination had played a trick on me. I turned to her again. "Hey, you should feel lucky we came along."
"No, stupid. I wasn't being robbed," she said, a bag of pork rinds flopping against her thigh. "That man comes in here from time to time, and usually I give him something to eat. He's homeless, duh." She waved a hand, indicating the nasty hot dogs turning on the metal cylinders in the hot dog cooker and placed the snacks on the display. I wondered, what marketing genius came up with the idea that every gas station convenience store should offer week-old hot dogs, glistening with grease, rolling for who knew how long? Like that would lure in hungry travelers desperate for something to fill their aching stomachs, besides chips and gummy worms.
AJ stepped forward and chimed in, "For the record, I told Cam the dude did not have a gun." He was beaming with pride, as if to one up me and impress our dark-haired damsel in distress. I could see it. He was so obvious. Shamelessly, he molested her with his eyes as we spoke.
I sneered at him behind the girl's back as she worked to put the rest of the scattered packages back on the display. I snatched another bag of pork rinds from the floor and shoved it onto the rack. Standing behind her as we worked, I couldn't help notice a red sheen to her hair as her head bobbed with each movement. It was the kind of trendy hair coloring college girls put in their hair. Girls that were a little bit edgy, that is. My curiosity and adrenaline spiked with the thought. Maybe she knew kinky, sexual techniques she could use on me? Not that my magnificent charm was getting me anywhere with her right now.
I blinked and focused again on the task at hand. My eyes drifted to the greasy hotdogs. "You gave Homeless Guy tube steak? The industry's best collection of snouts, feet and other unwanted pig parts? The poor guy'll die of a heart attack before he dies from living on the street."
Looking even more annoyed with me, the girl furrowed her pretty brow and walked back to her post behind the cash register. Guess I didn't score any points that time, but what can I say, I'm a football player, I like a challenge.
AJ spoke up again, seemingly eager to reinforce my error in judgment. "Well, anyway, we're sorry for attacking your homeless friend." He jabbed a thumb in my direction. "He thought he was robbing you."