See No Evil

Fuck.

I hope I don’t change that. It would be a travesty to tarnish something that pure and untouched.

“Okay, so we’ve established you don’t date. I get it. I’m not much for it either. But I do like to have fun, though. So tell me, pretty boy, do you want to salvage the night and have some fun?”

She cranes her head my way with sultry mischief in her eyes, and because that one look could probably get her anything out of me, I repeatedly nod like the fool that I am.

“Good,” she exclaims, slapping my knee. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Before I have time even to utter a word, she’s already out the door, sashaying her fine ass back to the bar from cockroach hell. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too long for her return. Not even five minutes later, she’s back with a wide grin on her face and a plastic bag in each hand. She slams the door again, making me cringe in my seat. But I don’t dare say anything of it since it looks like the night is finally going in my favor.

“What do you have there?” I nudge her bags, hearing the clink of bottles brushing together.

“Fi

“Glad to see you have a plan B.” I chuckle.

“You think this is plan B? Aw, you’re cute when you’re naive. This is plan A, baby. You are just here as my side entertainment.”

I laugh harder because the girl sure is cocky as fuck. And wouldn’t you know it, I kind of dig that about her.

I take a minute to think to myself where we can go to break the seal on the bottles. There is only one place I can think of that feels right to me. I’ve never really taken anyone there, but somehow, the idea of Stone seeing it excites me.

“I know where I want to take you.”

“Do you, now? Just came to you, did it?”

“Yep.” I chuckle, turning on the ignition. “Keep those two bad boys in check. We can get our drink on when we arrive, not before.”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, darlin’. I’ve got these two well taken care of,” she retorts playfully with the whole southern twang on her drawl.

Once I get us on the road, she starts to fiddle with the car radio to find some tunes to her liking. Although, she didn’t so much as ask me if I wouldn’t mind putting on music. I’ve come to realize that Stone just does what she wants, when she wants it, and damn who doesn’t like it. It’s oddly refreshing.

Most girls are always trying to impress me by pretending to be what they think I want them to be, but Stone doesn’t give a crap about impressing me one way or the other. In fact, I’d bet my trust fund she’s like that with everybody. She’s just who she is. Take it or leave it. I guess we have that in common. Well, for the most part anyway.

“So, pretty boy, do you want to give me any hints on where you’re taking me?”

“You’ll see.” I grin, tapping my fingers on the wheel in sync with the drums of the rock song she picked.

“You’re not going to take me into the woods and murder me or something, are you?”

“What kind of fucking question is that?!” I belt out, taking my eyes off the road to gawk at her.

Stone just giggles at my stupefied expression and pushes my face forward, so I don’t crash us into a ditch.

“Don’t get so sensitive on me, quarterback. A girl has to be careful when getting into a car with strangers,” she teases unashamedly.

“This morning, I had your pussy grinding on my hand so hard that you came all over it. I think we’re well past the ‘strangers’ stage, don’t you?”

“Touché.”

She turns her head away for a second, facing the side window, but I can still see the faint blush coloring her cheeks from the reflection.

“I’m not taking you to any woods. So settle your pretty ass down,” I tease.

“So, you’re not going to put me on some stone altar and use me as a sacrifice to the football gods or something? Because if you are, I hate to tell you that those rituals only work with virgins, and—spoiler alert—I lost my V-card when I was fifteen. You came a little late for that rodeo, pretty boy.”

“Fifteen, huh? Pretty young, don’t you think?”

“Is it? I never really thought about it.” She shrugs pensively. “When did you lose yours?”

“Fourteen.”

“That’s even earlier than me. Kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?” she counters, crossing her arms under her ample breasts, pushing them up in the process. It’s distracting as fuck. “Hey, quarterback,” she snaps her fingers in my face. “Eyes on the road and less on the girls. Just answer the damn question. Why is it young for me to lose my virginity at fifteen and not young for you at fourteen?”

“I didn’t say that it wasn’t.”

“So, what are you saying? Do you wish you lost your virginity later, is that it?”

“God, no. My right hand needed a break by then,” I joke.

“But you think I should have? Waited, I mean?”

“Didn’t say that either,” I quip back.

“It’s because I’m a girl, right? That double standard bullshit a

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Stone. It was just an observation, not a political statement.”

“Then why did you say it was young?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug self-consciously. “I always figured a girl’s first time needed to mean something to them. I’m not saying having sex at fifteen is young, but having a deep enough co

“Not every girl needs a fairy tale,” she murmurs.

“So, you weren’t in love with the guy who popped your cherry?”

“Nope,” she explains, popping the ‘P’ in the end, crossing her arms again.

“Then, why do it?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“The same reason you lost yours. It felt good.”

“Huh.”

I keep tapping my thumb on the steering wheel as I take her explanation to heart. Every time she opens her mouth, I become further in awe of the in-your-face attitude she has. How can Stone be so fearless—even at fifteen—that she didn’t buy into the bullshit of her first time being with someone she loved? Instead, she did the deed just because she was horny, which is freaking astounding. It must be fucking liberating to be her—being able to do whatever she wants, just because she wants it. I have to say that I’m a little envious.

I’m still trying to make sense of such an extraordinary creature, when she playfully knocks on the top of my head, startling my wayward thoughts.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” she taunts. “Think I’m a slut now, don’t you?” she adds humorously, not one bit flustered by what my opinion of her may be after her little confession.

“Not in a million years, Stone. I was just thinking how, even at fifteen, you were freer than most.”

She tilts her head back and lets out such a deep, rich laugh that it twists up my insides.

The fuck is that all about?

“I’m not free, quarterback. I’ve got too many bills to prove how wrong you are. I’m chained and bound to student debt and a whole other list of expenses just to get by. I’m hardly the poster child for American freedom.”

“That’s just semantics. Your future is going to be out of this world, Stone. Money problems will be the last thing you’ll ever worry about. But having your free spirit… that’s something money can’t buy.”