“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, grabbing a bottle of Jack almost instinctually.
I move closer to her and grab the bottle out of her hand. “It means, if you need any work done, you can call me,” I say. “I’m your man.”
“Um,” she sighs, struggling to think of the right words.
My chest is nearly touching hers. She smells like mesquite trees and wildflowers. Coupled with her rosy perfume, it drives me wild.
“I like your perfume,” I whisper.
There’s an awkward pause where I should kiss her, but I act like a gentleman instead.
I reach and grab her bottle of whiskey. She flinch, but I don’t let go. “Here, I’m buying the same thing. It’s on me.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good ide—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“Don’t worry. I’m not an asshole. I won’t hang a debt above your head. It’s like I said earlier. I’m just being a good neighbor,” I reassure her.
“Good. ‘Cause I don’t know if I can return the favor,” she chokes, glancing back at the store clerk who’s gone back to doodling.
“You don’t need to return nothing.” I smirk. “Maybe if I’m cooking dinner tonight, I’ll stop by to get some salt. Or, you know… a little sugar.”
Her face turns bright red. She’s not calling me a cowboy anymore. She’s stunned by me.
I back up and turn to the clerk. “I’ll take both of these,” I tell him. “And a pack of reds. Thank you, kindly.”
The man slams a pack of reds on the table, and I hand him a bit of cash. “Keep the change.” I salute.
I tip him ten bucks, hand her the bottle, and walk outside without looking back. She doesn’t have to walk with me. I’m fine, alone.
I grab a cigarette and light it up, inhaling the fumes deep within my lungs. I know it’s a bad habit, but I’m full of bad habits. I doubt it’s going to be this one that kills me off.
The jingle of the liquor store door rings behind me, and I can hear her light feet running against the dirt. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” she asks.
“Home, I guess.” I shrug. “I have a bike to work on.”
“Well,” she starts, but she cuts herself short.
“You don’t need to say anything to me,” I say. “We’re just neighbors. I get it. You came to this city for some peace and quiet. Me too.”
“Thanks for the bottle,” she says.
“Sure thing.”
For a few seconds, we just walk next to each other. It’s… nice.
She breaks that nice silence fast. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Can you keep it down in the garage? The engine noises… they’re really loud, and…”
There she goes. She’s sending me back to the flames again.
“You got it, darling,” I say.
I begin to walk away. I’m not someone who should be taken seriously. I’m just a grimy motor-head. I’ve got blood on my hands.
I’ve received this treatment before. Deep down, I know she wants me. She’s just too scared to deal with the consequences.
When I’m nearly a block away, I hear her clear her throat. “My name’s Caroline,” she calls out.
Cock my head to see her one last time. “Like the state?”