Hendrix (Caldwell Brothers)

I sit and blow into my hands, waiting to give her a minute to warm up, a little foreplay. Don’t wanna shock her. I pull my gloves out of my coat pocket and put them on while I wait.

Pulling out of the alley and onto the street, I take a left to head home. Two blocks down the road, I see something you don’t normally see at three in the morning in these parts: a woman walking down the street alone.

I slow as I pass by, thinking it may be someone I know. Low and behold, it fucking is. When Livi rubs her ass, I know for sure it’s her. Before I even allow myself to question why she’s walking, why I’m stopping, or why I even care, I crank the car, doing a U-ey and then pull up beside her.

As I roll the window down, she picks up her pace, walking quicker.

“Olivia, you need a ride?”

She lets out a breath, visibly relaxing as she turns toward me. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Livi, get your ass in this car before you get mugged or something.”

“It’s not far and—”

“Now,” I yell, making her jump. I didn’t mean to scare her, but fuck if I will let one of mine walk home at night.

She quickly makes her way around the car and jumps in. Her teeth are chattering as she holds her hands up to the heater vent.

“Not warmed up yet.” I pull off my gloves and hand them to her.

“Thank you,” she replies as she takes them and shoves her hands inside. “Oh, God, that feels good.”

Fuck. Quirky, little Livi has things stirring inside me with the moan and the “Oh, God.” My dick twitches at the moan as I imagine her moaning with her mouth wrapped around me, sucking me off. She makes me fucking crazy.

“Address?”

She rattles it off.

I immediately feel annoyed. “Look, kid, you live six blocks away, and you were gonna walk home in this temperature, this late at night?”

“Yes,” she answers, rubbing her cheeks with my gloves.

I force myself to look away. I am seeing a porno in my head that started with this, then her touching herself in other places, followed up with me busting her little twat apart. I have to shake the thought from my mind.

I don’t like this shit. I don’t fixate on a chick. This confuses the hell out of me and why I’m so drawn to crazy fucking Livi. I don’t want to just fuck someone anymore. Now that my mom’s gone everything is different. I have felt dead inside until quirky Livi has been around. Before, I just fucked around, ‘cause, let’s face it, they wanted to fuck me, too.

Once I pull out onto the road and make another u–turn, we pass my place and travel north.

“You just move here?” I try making small talk.

“I went to college here.”

“What’s a college girl doing working at my bar?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road.

“Well”—she hesitates—“I need the money.”

I have to laugh to myself. All those people preaching ‘get a college degree,’ and here I have a college graduate working at my dive. “You finish?”

“Yes, I’m a social worker,” she answers, finally settling in and sitting back in the seat.

“Doesn’t pay enough for a car?”

“I have a car.” She doesn’t elaborate.

“But you like to live on the edge and walk the streets of Detroit alone when it’s freezing out? What are you, an adrenaline junky penguin?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s not running at the moment.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Not sure,” she says, looking down.

“What’s your mechanic say is wrong?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

Okay, something is off with this chick. She doesn’t answer questions. She doesn’t seem to know or care what’s going on around her. She changes her demeanor. She’s evasive. She acts lost or confused. I just don’t get her.

I know she’s intelligent, but I can sense there is a fight inside her about answering questions. She marches to the beat of her own drum. Fuck it. Maybe she is fucking crazy … crazy could be fun. I ponder that thought just long enough to feel the discomfort of denim rubbing my dick. Well, it would be fun if she didn’t work for me.

“Care to explain?”

“Not really,” she replies softly.

“Olivia, let me ask you another question.”

“Go ahead,” she dryly responds while looking out the window.

“Are you fucking crazy?” It’s a serious question.

She laughs again and shakes her head.

“I mean, we’ve established that you aren’t an adrenaline junky penguin. You say you aren’t crazy, yet you walk six blocks with no mittens covering your little paws, and you have a broken down car that isn’t running, but you have no idea what’s wrong with it.”

I look out of the corner of my eye to see she is smiling.

Well, hell, maybe she is fucking crazy.