Chapter 6-1
739 Words
Chapter 6
GrahamBefore I pulled away from Alexa’s gym, I tapped her name into the search on my phone, bringing up her social media, her gym’s website, and some old, sizzling modeling photos.
I cataloged the new information in my racing mind.
For three weeks, I’d asked every partygoer I knew if they remembered her. And poured through party pictures online. And ignored why I wanted to find her so badly.
Seeing her today answered the question.
Women loved me. They told me I was handsome and charming. Never had a woman walked out after a night with me content to never look back. Alexa’s dismissal galled me.
A tantalizing memory of her smiling up at me at the New Year’s Eve party stirred my lower regions. Those dimples of hers might be the only sweet thing about her.
I should let it go.
On my way to the northwest Austin steakhouse where I was meeting my partners, I called Jonah.
“Jonah Moran.”
“I found her.”
“What?”
“It’s Graham. Remember the chick from New Year’s?”
“The one you nailed? How?”
“Random. She doesn’t live in Dallas. She lives here. I walk into a meeting today and boom. There she is. Alexa Stevens.”
Jonah snorted. “I told you. No one is named Lola.”
“Whatever. That’s not the point. The point is that I’ve finally found her.”
“Are you going out with her again?”
“Uh, not yet. She’s a little uptight about dating her landlord. I can wear her down.”
“Listen to you all excited. She must have cast quite the spell.”
“No.” My voice clipped. I was not bewitched by some random hookup.
“You sound really excited.”
An ancient Toyota Tercel swerved in front of me, and I laid on the horn, braking and checking the next lane for escape. “Jesus. No wonder that guy has to duct tape his bumper on.”
“Don’t let this Alexa agitate you into an accident.”
“That had nothing to do with her. It’s just some shitty Austin driver.” I released my tight grip on the wheel and relaxed into the leather seat.
Jonah’s voice taunted me. “But you want to see her again.”
“It’s my quest, man.”
“A quixotic revenge f**k?”
“I’m going to be way more successful than Don Quixote. And it’s not a revenge f**k. It’s a cathartic walk down memory lane.”
“Alexa Stevens. That name sounds vaguely familiar.”
My friend’s pondering tone made me white knuckle the steering wheel again. “Please tell me you don’t know her and haven’t slept with her, too.”
Crossing swords with my friend would creep me out.
“I don’t know. It’s not like I have a spreadsheet with every lay I’ve ever had. Text me a picture. I’ll let you know.”
The image of Alexa tangled in the sheets with Jonah hit me like a sucker punch. Jonah and I had shared some wild times, but never a woman. Never. No. Alexa was mine. Okay, maybe not mine, but certainly not Jonah’s.
“Forget it.”
“No. Let’s sort this out. Maybe we can compare notes.”
“f**k you.”
Jonah’s evil snicker faded. “Why do you care? I thought you were just going to bang her again and move on.”
“That, I will do.”
“Huh. Yeah.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I wish you luck in f*****g this girl out of your system. But, you know, you could always date her. You sounded like you had a really good time that night. Maybe if you got to know her, you might like her.”
I cackled. “I’m not you, Jonah. I’m not looking for a white picket fence, and trust me, she’s not any more interested than I am in anything long-term.”
“Alright. If you say so. Still, text me a picture of her.”
“Creep.”
“No. I just want to lay eyes on this woman who’s got you all twisted up. That’s all.”
“Google her. You can find her online. She was a model.”
“You’ve already looked her up, then.”
I could hear Jonah’s smirk. Heat crept over my face, and I thanked God I was talking to him over the phone. “I was wondering how we were connected. How we ended up at the same party.”
“Now who’s the creep?”
“Shut up.”
“Is this the only reason you called me?”
I tried to think of another topic on my agenda and failed. “Yeah.”
Ripples of Jonah’s laughter flowed through the phone line. “You are whipped, my friend.”
After hanging up, Jonah’s suggestion that I might like Alexa more than another handful of screws worth vexed me.
“Shit.”
I flew past my exit and pounded my fist on the wheel.
I was not whipped. This was just a matter of pride. Disappear in a puff of smoke, my a*s. We’d see who was begging whom to stay in the end.
- Writer
