Page 78 of Secondhand Soul

She’s cute, short, and bouncy.

She’s also completely unwelcome, but I guess they want what we want.

“Want to head back to your place?” Victoria murmurs.

“No, let’s, um, get cleaned up and get a snack. They have really amazing fries.” Try to make this a date. A date that’s not just about sex. You can do it, idiot.

Victoria pouts. “I don’t want fries. I want a popsicle,” she hisses, squeezing my cock with her fist as she helps me tuck it away.

The snarl I let out is completely involuntary, related to pleasure and denied gratification. Victoria smirks like she knows exactly how she’s teasing me. “I’m going to wash up. Be right back,” she says.

“I need a little cold water, too,” I agree, and follow her to the restrooms in the little hallway off the main room.

She disappears into one room, and it’s tempting to follow her. But I don’t. The first time with someone should be romantic. Long kisses. Candles.

Not stuffed in an RV. Or shivering in a crypt. We’ll go to the Country Pines Motel. It’ll be perfect, with soft lights and soft music.

I might even manage to tell her that I...

“Gavin, I really don’t want to. Kara and I are going to ride home in an hour, and I—”

“You can’t expect me to not see you for three weeks and not to get some before we leave, babe,” Gavin laughs.

I don’t like his laugh.

“We’re in a public place, you perv!” The woman’s voice holds laughter, too, but it’s not genuine.

“What do you think that freak with the white hair is doing to his goth girl in the bathroom right now? It’s what you do in a place like this.” College boy’s tone is condescending. Patronizing.

I instantly picture Bocella’s goons talking to Victoria like that, pawing at her, speaking to her like she owes them something they want, and my teeth start to itch.

“Then maybe I won’t come to a place like this with you anymore!”

Good for her.

I hover in the alcove, waiting with a frown on my face for Victoria to emerge.

She does, and instantly stops in her tracks when she sees me standing still.

I put a finger to my lips, head tilting towards the pool tables.

Silently, she glides up to me, her arm sliding through mine.

I feel like a king when she does that. When she grabs onto me like I’m something worth holding.

“Do you really think you can just walk away from me?” This Gavin-ass demands.

“I think you’re pushing me away, yeah.”

“On Christmas Eve? After that necklace I bought you, Allie?”

“I don’t want the stupid necklace if this is how you act.” Allie’s voice rises, and I move so I can see, not just hear, not sure whether I hope they see me and the argument ends, or whether I hope they’re oblivious and I get to go punch Gavin’s face in.

“Oh, so you’ll take an expensive gift, but not give your boyfriend anything back? There’s a word for golddiggers like you.”

Allie is sniffling and fumbling with her necklace clasp, hidden under her wavy hair and bundles of warm clothes.

The second Gavin grabs her elbow, Victoria flies away from me, an eagle in a slinky black dress. “We don’t talk to people like that,” Victoria says, her voice surprisingly calm and flat.