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Trucker (The Good Guys #1)(47)

By:Jamie Schlosser


"Oh! Sorry. So sorry," she quickly apologized as she pulled the ring off  and handed it back to me. "You probably wanted to be the one to put it  on me. Yes. That's a yes." She bounced excitedly as she held out her  left hand.

I grinned as I looked at Angel.

Big blue eyes were shining at me with so much love, it took my breath  away. There was a smudge of icing on her chin that begged me to lick it  off. Her cheeks were flushed from excitement and her blonde hair was in  total disarray from sleep. She brought a whole new meaning to the term  ‘bedhead'.

Fucking beautiful.

Picking up her hand in mine, I gave her finger a soft kiss.

"Thank you for being my forever," I said against her skin before sliding the ring home.

It was a perfect fit.



The end





Continue reading for a sneak peek of Colton and Brielle's story in



DANCER

(THE GOOD GUYS BOOK 2)

Coming December 2016!





*The excerpt from Dancer is unedited and subject to change





CHAPTER 1

COLTON

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, but that wasn't too early for a  beer. Not today. My 22nd birthday was tomorrow, but the last thing I  felt like doing was celebrating.

After walking through the door to my apartment, I kicked off my boots  and went straight to the fridge. Without bothering to remove my coat, I  popped the cap off the cold beverage and took a long drink.

Next, I made my way into the living room and closed the blinds on the  windows. I was about to do some serious brooding, and I needed it to be  dark and quiet for that. After sinking down onto the couch, I spent the  next several minutes enjoying the silence.

I wasn't an alcoholic-I just wanted to forget my problems for a few  hours. I was tired of pretending everything was okay. Tired of putting  on a happy face for everyone. People expected me to be the  happy-go-lucky, laid-back guy they'd always known. But I wasn't that guy  anymore.

Swirling the beer bottle in my hand, I realized I was getting low. I  finished it off in one gulp and got another from the fridge. Just as I  sat back down on the couch, my roommate came through the door.

Travis stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. Heaving out a big  sigh, he threw his keys on the table, then flopped down into the chair  by the couch.

"Alright. What the fuck, Colt?"

"What?" I demanded.

He sighed again. "I didn't want to say anything because I thought you  needed time to get over the breakup with Tara, but I come home to find  you drinking before five o'clock. In the dark. By yourself. That's some  serious shit. It's fucking creepy, man."

I didn't have a response, so I just took another long drink of my beer.

"You haven't been the same for a while," Travis stated. "Is that what this is about? The breakup?"

I was already shaking my head because he was way off base. "No. It's not that."

"Then what is it? Come on, we've been friends since we were seven years  old. There isn't one thing we don't know about each other."

He was wrong. There was something he didn't know about me. Something I'd kept a secret.

But I knew Travis. He would keep coming at me with questions until I talked, so I tried a different tactic-changing the subject.

"Where's Angel?" I asked. After all, she was his favorite thing to talk about these days.

"Shopping with my mom." He grinned. "We've been engaged for two days and they're already wedding planning."

He'd proposed to his girlfriend on Christmas and I couldn't be happier  for them. They were perfect for each other in a disgustingly cute sort  of way. I didn't even mind that Angel had moved in with us several  months ago. She pitched in with the bills and the cleaning, and it  didn't hurt that she was one hell of a cook. Travis was like a brother  to me, so technically, that made her family.

"You guys set a date yet?" I asked.

"Not yet, but she wants a summer wedding. Maybe July," he replied.

The conversation stalled. I didn't know anything about wedding shit. I would've kept him talking if I'd known what to ask.

Travis ran a hand through his hair and the brown mass fell over his eyes.

"You need a haircut," I told him, once again trying to distract him from  talking about me. "You should just do what I do and buzz it off."                       
       
           



       

"Angel likes it long on top. Gives her something to hold onto," he smirked.

"Dude." I barked out a laugh. "There's such a thing as too much information."

"And there's such a thing as trying to change the subject," he shot back, giving me a pointed look.

Deciding to get it over with, I took a deep breath. With my elbows on my  knees and my head in my hands, I confessed my deepest secret.

"I've got a problem with my dick," I blurted out, grimacing at how blunt I was.

"Shit," Travis breathed out. "Did Tara give you something? Is that why you broke up?"

"No!" I practically shouted. "Hell no. I got tested for everything after  we broke up. Clean bill of health." I held up my hands. "Tara was into  drugs. The hard stuff, too. I didn't even know it for most of our  relationship. I don't know how she hid that shit from me, but she did."

"So, what's the problem?" he asked, reminding me of my confession.

"It's like-" I paused, trying to think of a way to explain it. "It's  like whiskey dick, but I haven't been drinking. I can't keep it up.  Fuck, sometimes I can't even get it up in the first place."

Realization dawned on Travis's face. "The arguments," he recalled. "I  heard her yelling about stuff a few times. What she said didn't make  sense at the time, but it does now."

"Yeah, she wasn't exactly understanding about it. It only made it  worse." I took another swig of my beer as I remembered the way Tara  berated me.

What's wrong with you?! Don't you think I'm sexy? Are you gay or something?

"We didn't even have sex for like the last two months of our relationship," I said. "I got tired of trying. And failing."

"Did you ever think maybe you just didn't like her? I mean, maybe your  dick knew better than you," he joked, making light of the situation.

I shook my head. "I had the problem in high school a few times. You  remember Katie? Of course you do," I chuckled because Travis hated her.  She could be a total bitch but she was hot. Back then, that was all I  cared about. "Anyway, it happened with her a few times, too. I'd been  drinking those times, though, so I thought it was because of that … "

"What about since Tara? You guys broke up months ago."

"I tried to go home with a girl from a bar one night." I cringed  thinking about my desperate attempt to prove to myself that my cock  wasn't broken. "I got to her place and we started to mess around. I  couldn't even get half-mast. I ended up making some lame excuse and  leaving." The shame and embarrassment weighed down on me. You'd think  talking to my best friend would make me feel better, but it didn't. I'd  already told him this much, so I thought I might as well spill  everything. "I went to see a doctor about it earlier today," I admitted,  looking up at Travis to find him listening intently.

"And?" he prodded.

"He gave me a prescription for Viagra. Fucking Viagra!" I removed the  orange bottle of blue pills from the pocket of my Carhartt jacket and  set it on the coffee table. "I'm 22 years old and they tell me I have  erectile dysfunction."

I finished off the second beer and got up to get another one.

"Wanna grab me one, too?" Travis called from the living room.

I got two beers from the fridge, handed one to him, then sat back down.

"Have you talked to Hank about it?" he asked.

My face twisted up in a horrified expression. "I'm not talking to my dad  about my dick problems," I said incredulously. "Anyway, he'd just tell  me there's nothing wrong with me and say some shit like ‘if it ain't  broke, don't fix it'."

Travis nodded because he knew my dad as well as I did. "Or he'd tell you that line about the broken clock," he laughed.

Then at the same time, we both said, "Even a broken clock is right twice a day."

Chuckling, I cracked the first real smile I'd had in a long time.

Travis cleared his throat. "What about when you're …  by yourself?" he asked.

"It's better then, unless I think about it too much," I admitted.

"You want to know what I think?" he asked and I nodded. "I think your  dick is smarter than you." I huffed out a laugh and he continued. "I'm  serious. I think you just haven't found the right girl yet."