Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Bullshit! You’re not getting old; you’re just fucking depressed because Killyama doesn’t hang out with you, and me and Fat Louise’s been busy with the kids.”
“Kids that I’m never going to have if I don’t get my ass in gear.”
“You can’t settle for Sam just because you’re lonely.”
“Why not? Sam might not be Mr. Perfect, but sometimes a girl has to settle for Mr. Boring.”
“Crazy Bitch, you need to get laid. If you’ve nicknamed him Mr. Boring, he’s not for you.”
She watched as Sex Piston swept up Calder’s hair and dumped it into the trash. “Why do you think he wanted to know my name?”
Sex Piston rolled her eyes. “Because he’s interested in you. He has been since he met you. Calder’s been straight a while now—go for it.”
“If it doesn’t work out with Sam, I’m going on a singles’ cruise. If I don’t meet someone there, I’m going to ask Jonas out. If none of that works, I’ll think about giving Calder another chance.”
“What if he hooks up with another woman while you’re thinking about it?”
“Then it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’m going to call Lucky. You need more guidance than I can give you if you believe that shit.”
Crazy Bitch looked out the front window. “Stud’s here. You really going camping?”
“Got out of it the last three times. I’m out of excuses.”
“You know, if you and Stud break up, I’m going to be the first one in line to steal him from you.” Crazy Bitch was only half-joking.
“Aren’t you forgettin’ something?”
“What?” She stood up, going for her own purse and taking out the keys to lock the shop’s door.
“He’s a biker,” Sex Piston pointed out as they went out the door together.
“I’d make an exception for him.”
“If you would make Stud an exception, why not Calder?”
“They might share the same DNA, but that’s where the similarities end.”
“I can’t blame you where Calder is concerned—he was a dick to you that night. But there are more fish in the sea than the Destructors or the Blue Horsemen. How about one of The Last Riders? We can get Killyama to fix you up with one of them. Rider is still single.”
“I told you, no more bikers, and he’s the biggest biker of them all.”
“He’s big, not fat,” Sex Piston argued back as they went to the RV that Stud had rented for the weekend. “You’ve never cared about a man’s weight before. Joker was carrying that beer gut, and you didn’t care.”
“Still don’t care. I was talking about him owning over twenty motorcycles.”
“That many?”
“That’s what Killyama says.”
“Damn, then Stud is lucky I didn’t know that before he married me. I might have given him a twirl or two.”
When Sex Piston opened the door to the RV, the sounds of Meri and Keri fighting over which movie to watch, and Star yelling that Harley wouldn’t give her the Nintendo Switch she had gotten for her birthday back, had Sex Piston wincing as she went up the steps.
“When you make that reservation for the cruise, make me one. My ass will be sitting on the lido deck in two months.” She turned toward her kids. “Rocky, give it back. It’s hers.”
“Mom!” her son whined from the mysterious depths of the RV. “Quit calling me Rocky. It’s a baby name.”
“Then give it back before I come back there, Harley!”
Crazy Bitch jumped back when Sex Piston slammed the door shut with a hard thump. Getting into her car, she drove to the hospital where Sam worked.
Pulling to the front door, she made it with a minute to spare before Sam walked out.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asked as he got into the front seat next to her.
“I’m sure. Mine has a bigger back seat.”
“Mine has floorboards.”
Crazy Bitch ignored his wary expression of the car as she drove. The apple green paint had turned into a puke green, interspersed with rust, the upholstery inside had metal springs showing through, and the floor had gaps so large that if you weren’t careful, you could lose a foot.
“It’s a classic. The motor is like new.” She gave him an irritated glance at his patronizing attitude.
Sam scooted across the seat with a pained expression, laying an arm over the seat. “I don’t mind the car. I just want my girl driving what she deserves.”
“What do I deserve to drive?” Crazy Bitch played along as Sam tried to get himself out of the shit his attitude had dug him in.
“I see you driving a red Miata, or a Mustang.”
“I don’t have that kind of money working as a hairdresser.”
“I could help you out.”
“Sam, we’ve only been seeing each other for a month. I don’t want your money, and you shouldn’t be offering.”
Crazy Bitch found them a parking spot in the back row, pulling the car forward enough so they could hang the speaker on the back window. Sam sheepishly got out of the car as she did, sliding into the back seat next to her.