Fully Restored (7 page)

With tired legs and happy hearts, we settled in at a small restaurant and had a great night, eating and drinking, laughing more. Just generally being carefree young people. It was a great night.

Chapter Six

Brock

M
y weekend with Teagan, was hands down some of the best days in my life. Even getting out of prison had not been that freeing. She had this ability to make everything else go away and just focus on the moment. She talked about me being some sort of opportunity that she wasn’t going to miss, well I felt the same. After a great evening goofing off downtown and eating an amazing meal, I took her home, reluctantly. It was too soon to expect her to be with me all the time. I made her promise to call me in the morning with what she wanted to do that day. She did. We had driven into the city and spent the afternoon walking in the park, riding a carousel and eating cheap dirty water hotdogs. As much as I liked small town life, there was something to be said about being able to escape to the big city.

This woman, so playful and kind and so dangerously beautiful, how in the world had she gone unnoticed? When I got to the shop this morning for work I asked around about her and all I got were simple “she had it hard growing up” style answers. I even went to her father for advice and when he looked at the carport and saw that
Phoebe
had had some work done, he looked at me and said “You’re doing fine son. Someday, if she chooses and if you talk too, you’ll both know the truth. Then things can happen. Could be good. Could be bad. Until then, keep her open and focused.”

What the fuck was that? Whatever. I spent the entire day hardly focusing on my work, thinking about Teagan and what I was going to do with her when I got her next.  When I finally clocked out at the end of my day I saw that Teagan had as well. Looking for her, I found her staring at
Phoebe
.

“What are you thinking about?”

She startled and turned around. Apparently whatever she was thinking had her complete focus, she hadn’t heard me approach her.

“Color.”

“Color? That’s what’s got you all crossed up and squinty faced? Color? I thought you had already chosen.” I laughed. She glared.

“It needs to be just the right color to scream I am a girl, and I’m allowed to change my mind. It needs to be a kickass color. It needs to say that I will kick your ass and you will never see it coming.”

“That’s a lot for one color to say”

“I know. It’s why I am still here. I’ve eliminated a ton.” She looks down and I notice she has color chips in her hands from KolorKolections. “I’m really leaning towards this gold to silver blend or this raspberry dark metallic one…” she shows me the two cards and we hold them up together.

We stand and look at the chips and car for a few moments. I like the raspberry. It’s just feminine enough and still completely kickass. When I tell her so, she says “Done, Raspberry it is. Let’s go call for her to be towed – I don’t want the guys here painting her. They are fine and all, but I want the best.”

Shrugging thinking I was the best, I followed her inside where she set up whatever the “best” company was to take the car to layer and paint it. So, all in, with her pull in the industry, we could have
Phoebe
back in a few weeks or less.

That gave me at least one weekend to plan non- car related stuff. I started thinking immediately about my plans. I had a lot to get to work on. I planned to get behind that mask some more this weekend and needed to pull out some big guns to do it, but in doing so I could end up revealing parts of me I don’t even like to remember.

Teagan

It’s amazing how much faster time goes when you have someone in it that makes it enjoyable. Used to be all I had was my dad and Meghan. With the addition of Brock into my life, my time at work, and outside of work, seemed to fly by. A couple of days into the week Meghan called and wanted to plan a girl’s night on Friday. She claimed it was practically a law for girls to go out and gossip about boyfriends together. Since this was the first boyfriend of mine worth even mentioning, this was news to me. However strange it would be, sharing stories with Meghan rather than just listening to hers, I needed some girl time and was excited about the night. With that in mind, and looking forward to spending more time with Brock with the car, my weekend came fast.

*****

Before leaving work, I stopped by where Brock was working on an old mustang that had an electrical issue, and told him I was going out with the girls. Not that I needed to check in with him. I did it because I cared and we had spent almost every evening together since we decided to give “us” a shot. He deserved to know where I was going to be that night. He also deserved to know that our relationship was about to be free game in the Meghan world of gossip. The entire town would soon know every detail Meghan could remember tomorrow morning. After giving him the news and a quick kiss, earning me hoots from the men around the shop, I headed home to get ready for a night out.

Since starting to date Brock, I was relying less and less on makeup and clothing to show who I was. Getting ready for a night out, without full makeup and a corset, was something new. It was a little exciting. It was like dressing up as me, instead of as someone else. Standing in front of my closet I noticed how many clothing items I had that I never took the chance to wear because they didn’t fit my car girl or pinup personas. I sorted through them and came up with a little black dress that still had the tags on it. It was short, hitting high up on my thigh. The front was relatively tame, coming straight across my collarbone to end in slender straps that went over my shoulders. It clung to my curves, showcasing them beautifully. The front was amazing. But it was the back I had bought it for. Aside from a slim strap that went from shoulder to shoulder across the base of my neck, there was no back. The sides draped down from my shoulders, showing a little side boob which I thought was sexy, and finally draping at the base of my back, showing the twin dimples of my ass. It was drop dead sexy. And very modern. This is probably why it was still hanging in the closet and hadn’t been worn before now.

I left my hair down and in loose waves, pinning it to one side, leaving my neck bare on the other. After adding small diamond earrings and my black stiletto pumps I was pretty much ready for the evening. I had done my makeup, going for a much more natural look than I normally did. Meghan was going to be shocked when she saw me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone out on the town without a corset or bright red lips. I felt like a new me, and I liked it. I hoped that people around me did. Frowning I remembered a time when the people around me didn’t like who I was. When they made my life a living hell and made me want to end it every day. Not wanting to put a damper on the evening I shook the feelings off, telling myself that I didn’t need them to say I was beautiful because I had a man that did that for me.

I went to the kitchen where I could hear dad watching the Barrett-Jackson car auction in the other room. After pouring myself a glass of wine, I settled in to the couch next to him to wait for Meghan. Dad looked up and his eyes went wide.

“Teagan, is that you? What the hell. Heck. What is this? Am I being punked? Are you wearing this outfit to see if I love you as much in this getup as I do in your normal attire?” he said, struggling to get the thoughts out coherently.

I laughed. It felt good to be more relaxed. I felt good.

“Dad, seriously, it was in my closet so I decided I ought to wear it. Besides, it’s crazy hot.” I stood and turned so he could see the back. I heard a choking sound and whipped back around to see him wiping off his shirt and setting his rum down.

“Damn sweetheart, don’t do that again. I’m too young for a heart attack. That dress should be illegal on daughters. I would tell you to go change but since that would never happen I will tell you how amazing you look and to be safe tonight. Have fun but please be safe.”

“Dad, I am not new to this you know” I rolled my eyes, feeling a little like the child he still thought I was.

“I know, but you are my only child and I’ll always fear for you. I love you.” He said

“I love you too dad.”

It was in the middle of this heartwarming conversation that the doorbell rang and Meghan walked in as only she could, yelling, “You ready bitch!?” When she rounded the corner and saw me, her jaw dropped.

“Shut your whore mouth, you’re catching flies. I thought you wanted to catch men. Let’s go.” I said, heading off the questions about my look.

I giggled and my dad rolled his eyes, muttering, “And you wonder why I worry,” causing me to laugh even harder. “I’m coming Meghan! Let’s do this. Bye dad. Be good. No red rooms or grey ties while drinking.” I laughed and kissed his head. He just shook it and shoed me out.

*****

Meghan and I had decided earlier on a club called Nightshade. It was a classy place, for a dance club. It had been so long since I had been out just for fun. When we got there, people were already crowding the dance floor, moving together with the pulsing music. Their movements so closely mimicking sex that I was pretty sure some of them were actually doing it on the dance floor. Meghan grabbed my arm and pulled me to the bar.  Waving down the bartender she looked at me, “Drink rule tonight- only drinks with sex in the name. I am gonna start us off easy. If you can stand at the end of the night, you lose. Bartender- I will take a slow comfortable screw.”

Oh God. This was not going to end well for me. Shaking my head, and knowing I had no way to turn back now (no one says ‘no’ to Meghan’s drinking rules, they only get worse), I laughed and picked up my drink, eyeballing the orangey colored gin and vodka drink. Gross. I picked it up and looked at Meghan, “On three. One...two…three!” I tossed the drink back, eyes watering and throat burning. I hated gin. It smells and tastes like a Christmas tree. Why Meghan thought this was an easy first drink was beyond me. Slamming the glass down, I coughed and tried to put out the fire in my throat. “So gross Meghan! I get the next pick. Something yummy…. I know!” I waved down the bartender again. “We will have two Bend Over Shirley’s”

The bartender had to guess how the night was going to go from here, he laughed and went to mix the sweet cherry vodka drink. Yum. This one I could do. Meghan was standing in her place moving along absentmindedly with the music.

“How is Justin doing? You still seeing him?” I asked, seriously wondering since this was the longest time Meghan had stayed with one guy.

She shrugged, “Justin and I are taking a break.”

Like I was just going to let her leave it at that, I picked up my new drink and took a long pull, thinking over my next statement, “A break… explain.”

“It’s just, he wanted more. I don’t do more. You know I don’t do more. So, we are taking a break. It’s not a big deal. Finish your drink. I want to dance.” She grabbed her Shirley and chugged it. Something was bothering her. Following her, I quickly finished my drink and allowed her to drag me onto the dance floor.

It was hot and sweaty on the floor. Bodies were packed in and people were writhing against each other. Meghan and I threw ourselves into the mess with a passion. I seriously loved dancing. I closed my eyes and raised my hands moving slowly to the beat. After a couple of songs, I was hot and thirsty. I stopped and grabbed Meghan and motioned to the bar. She nodded and followed me off the floor.

The bartender smirked as we approached the bar, “What’ll it be this time ladies?”

Having the first two drinks already flowing, and the high of dancing running through me, I looked at Meghan and giggled, “We will take two Cock Sucking Cowboys and two Blue Balls.”

The bartender laughed with us this time, I think our drink theme was the highlight of his night. I mean, I would like it if I was working. In no time, the four shots were lined up in front of us and Meghan and I each went for one.

“Cheers bitch,” a toast only Meghan could make sound loving.

I grinned, “Right back at you whore!”

We slammed the Cowboy back and followed quickly with the Blue Balls. Meghan was beginning to sway on her feet so I knew if I stood up, I would be feeling these four drinks soon. Still, I was young and feeling pretty tonight and I want to let loose. I wanted to dance; I stood a little too quickly and wobbled for a moment in my heels before feeling centered enough to walk. Shaking off the effects of the drinks, I grabbed Meghan’s hand and pulled her unsteadily onto the floor for a couple more songs. The alcohol was making me feel free and I wanted that feeling so badly.

Dancing with Meghan was always entertaining. Most of the time, in order to keep overly touchy men off of us, we danced together. Closely. Intimately. Hey, she was my best friend. So we danced. Eventually our feet felt like lead and we needed a break. Trudging through the crowd, we eventually made it back to the bar and miracle of miracles, found two seats. Sweet relief! My poor feet. I swear, high heels would make the perfect torture device at Gitmo. Emasculate and cause pain at the same time, all without leaving any evidence behind. Too bad they made my legs look amazing.

This time when the bartender came I ordered a glass of water. Meghan scowled at me and turned to the cute bartender. “We will take a Blow Job with a shot of your choice.” My eyes widened. At this club, this meant we would be doing a hands free shot from the bartenders crotch. I don’t know if it was nerves or alcohol that made it happen, but all the sudden I couldn’t stop giggling. And when I giggle, Meghan giggles. By the time the bartender came around the bar with the shots and lifted Meghan off the seat so he could use it, we had tears running down our faces. Our makeup had to be a mess. Stifling the giggles, Meghan went first, bending over seductively and doing the shot perfectly. Her eyes went wide, “Fireball! Yum!!” Turning to me she slurred, “Your turn bitch.” I wobbled over to take my shot, completing it in much less grace than she had, but I did it. When the bartender high fived us and went back to work, Meghan and I settled drunkenly on the seats.

“I think I am gonna need a ride.” Meghan said

“Dude, you drove us. So now we both need a ride.”

“I can’t call Justin since we are … on break… You need to call your tattoo man. He can come get us.”

I thought about that. Brock and I were still new. We liked each other, a lot, but were we at the place where he would still like me if I, say, threw up in his truck? I grimaced and hoped it didn’t come to that. Meghan was probably right. It was Brock or my dad and no way was I calling dad. Sucking it up, I picked up the phone and dialed Brock.

“Babe,” he answered, “Everything okay with girls night?”

Such a good guy. I hope I don’t puke in his truck. “Um… can you come pick us up? We need a ride.” At least I think that is what I said. It may have sounded more like “cnnn yoooooou cm, nude ride.”