#dude its just..... he deserves cowboy boots i think. and a gun. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dominionleathershop · 6 years

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Winning Story

by FionaAndell

I shouldn’t have come to the concert.

George Michael was Alyssa’s favorite singer, and she had previously hinted at how “I Want Your Sex” left her feeling the same. Naturally I, her doting boyfriend, wanted to be around to fill any of her needs that may arise. So when she flashed two tickets and wondered who could “possibly want to come” while twirling her honey-blonde hair, I eagerly volunteered.

That was two weeks ago.

Two days ago, I was in standstill in traffic on my motorcycle, thinking about the way said hair framed her face so beautifully while she was bobbing up and down on my cock. She always looked particularly wicked then, like she was in complete control... My jeans were getting uncomfortably tight, so I shifted the bike’s weight to my right leg and reached down to adjust myself.

The screech of brakes caught my attention and I looked up just in time to see some idiot merging too fast jerk left around a car and SHIT! I yanked my leg out of the way and breathed a quick sigh of relief as he missed me by an inch – and then the bike and I toppled over.

According to the ER doc, I’m lucky my clavicle fracture wasn’t compounded, but they still had to screw metal crap onto my bones. I don’t know about that, but I am lucky the EMT was kind enough to forget to write down “patient’s right hand stuck in pants upon arrival.” She was pretty cute, if you like them able to dead-lift one-fifty. Twenty-four hours and some heavy duty pain-killers later and I walked my happy ass out of the hospital and into Alyssa’s car.

She seemed put out at having to come pick me up, but when I told her I had been hit because I was distracted thinking of her magical mouth, she got a lot more sympathetic. When we reached my apartment, she made sure to show me just how worth it the pain might be.

Tonight was the concert and I wasn’t going to let a little flesh wound ruin my evening. Alyssa showed up looking damn hot in her denim skirt and purple tube top, although the matching cowboy boots were a little ridiculous. She frowned when I just said “lookin’ great, babe,” and didn’t go on about how sexy she was. Blame it on the pain - I hadn’t taken the pills yet, though I’d stuck one in a plastic baggie to take if it got bad. Stretching to buckle the passenger seatbelt over my sling made me thankful I had.

In line for the show, I tried to make up for my earlier gaffe and be very attentive, talking about how much sexier she was than any of the other women. By the time we reached the metal detectors she was smiling and holding my good arm again.

Then disaster struck once more.

The damn plates and screws set off the stupid machines and I had to be pulled aside to prove that I wasn’t packing. This was Texas – they were lucky everybody didn’t have a gun! But I dutifully, painfully took off my sling and showed my incredibly fresh surgical scars. I winced from more than the pull of stitches and tender skin as Alyssa waited by herself just inside, obviously annoyed. Some dudebro walked up and spoke to her, and she flashed him a big grin, leaning toward him. Shit.

Security eventually let me through and I strode back to her side.

“Hey babe, thanks for waiting.” I slid my arm around her shoulders and looked at him. “Sup?” I nodded in greeting and waited for him to fuck off like they always did.

“Hey! How ya doin’?” He smiled with all his teeth and clapped his hand down on my shoulder. Yes. That shoulder.

Blinding pain overwhelmed me and I flinched, my left arm dropping a foot before I came back to my senses and ever-so-casually laid it back on Alyssa’s shoulder.

“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” She stepped sideways out of my reach and I realized that my nonchalant drape had turned into a clench as waves of residual pain washed over me.

“Not cool, dude.” Dudebro took a step into my space, partially between my girlfriend and me.

I shoved him back with my left arm. “Neither is taking cheap shots, dude.”

“Is there a problem here?” Security materialized next to us.

“Oh no, we’re fine. Right, Brad?” Alyssa turned her megawatt smile on first the guard and then dudebro-Brad.

“Of course, darlin’. All good here.”

The guard looked at me and my sling, raising an eyebrow as I eyed him in return, noting that he was carrying. With clenched jaw, I turned my lips up in parody of a smile. “No problem.” I looked at my girlfriend, heart sinking.

“Alyssa?”

“Enjoy the concert.” Was all she said as she hooked her arm through Brad’s and walked off.

The guard scanned the crowd and then gave me a sympathetic look. “That your girl?”

“Was. I need a beer.”

“Bar’s all the way to the left. Enjoy the concert.”

I made my way through the crowd in a foul mood, cursing idiot drivers, faithless women, and all dudebros everywhere. People bumped into me and I snarled at them, until I finally reached the bar.

“Dos Equis.” Not my usual preference, but better than Bud Light or Corona.

“That’ll be five dollars, please.” Opening my mouth to bitch about the price, I looked up into gorgeous brown eyes. Mutely, I handed over the money and a good tip. She didn’t deserve my acidic mood.

“Here, hon.” I took the bottle and tried to smile, lost in her eyes. Brown wasn’t the right word for them – they were good dark whiskey with flecks of pure sunshine.

“Thanks.” I finally managed to spit out. Remembering the painkiller in my pocket, I set the beer down and awkwardly retrieved the baggie. The opening notes of “Father Figure” played, but I couldn’t care less. I washed the pill down and found a stool where I could see the bartender.

She bustled about, dodging her coworker with ease and filling orders with a smile. She was a little paler than your standard Texan cutie who worked these kinds of events, but she filled out her George Michael t-shirt in the best way. I couldn’t see below the bar, but I bet her boots weren’t purple.

I sat there, lost in dark musings interspersed with the light of her eyes that kept flicking my way. The song “One More Try” eventually filtered through and I realized that I didn’t want to be here. I stood up and went to place the empty bottle on the bar, but the bar kept moving.

“Mister, you okay?” Whiskey-eyes came close once more. “I’ll be right with y’all!” She called over her shoulder to a particularly loud customer.

“M’fine.” I slurred, taking a step further away from the stools. Had there been two?

“You don’t look it.” She lifted the counter exit just in time for me to hit the ground once more, her brown cowboy boots inches from my face.

“Not…purple…” I mumbled, and then blackness took me.

I woke up with a someone shining a light in my eyes and tried to swat the both of them away. They leaned back and merged into the same EMT from two days ago.

“Hey there. You’re kinda cute and all, but we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She teased me gently.

“Is he gonna be alright?” Whiskey-eyes was hovering, looking concerned.

“He just have one beer?” The bartender nodded in reply. “I’m guessing you’re on a pain med for your shoulder?” I tried to nod as well and the world spun. “Easy there. He’ll be alright, as long as he remembers that opiod plus alcohol equals bad. Got it?” She fixed me with the stern glare all medical professionals learn.

“Yeah, I got it.” I slowly sat up, leaning on my left arm.

“Good. You don’t look more hurt, but the meds make it hard to tell if you’ve got a concussion. Are you here with anyone?”

“Ye-no. Shit.”

“You need someone to sit with you and keep you awake for a few hours. And for goodness’ sake, don’t drive!”

“I can look out for him. That is if you’ll sit her until I’m done. Then I’ll drive you back to your place.” Whiskey-eyes offered.

I blinked at her. “You’re not worried that I’ll…hurt you? Not that I would, but I’m usually scary.”

“Seriously?” She grinned. “Big scary man who’s in a sling and unable to stand because he was dumb enough to wash his pain pill down with a beer?” She reached up and patted the thigh holster strapped over her jeans. “I’ll be fine.”

Damn, I must be messed up to have missed that. And damn, those jeans looked good.

“Alright, unless you want to go to the hospital again?” The EMT raised her eyebrow at me.

“No, thank you.”

“Thought not.” She stood up. “He gives you any trouble, just hit him in the shoulder. Less paperwork than shooting him.”

“Hey! Thought you EMS did no harm?!”

“Wouldn’t be me hurting you.” She reached down a hand. “Let’s get you back on a stool before I go.”

I remembered to ask Whiskey-eyes her name about the time we got to her car. It was Anna, “with two ‘N’s.” Anna took my apartment key from me after I fumbled to unlock the door left handed.

“I’m not usually so helpless, you know.” I grumbled and followed her in.

“And I’m not usually so take-charge. But needs must.”

“Why are you being so nice to a stranger?”

She stopped and looked at me, eyes shining and face honest as she replied, “Because you deserve it.”

I felt like she’d punched me in the shoulder and I sat down on the couch, too hard.

Anna clicked her tongue at my pained expression and walked into the kitchen with its pass-through wall. “That’s it, you need to eat before you take any more pills.”

“But I–”

“No buts.” She brandished the crazy green spatula I’d gotten at the dollar store. “I’m not afraid of you, mister.” While I was still staring stupidly, she raided the fridge. “How do you like your eggs?”

“What?”

“Eggs. You eat them. How?”

“Uh, scrambled with salsa on top.”

“Glad you said scrambled, cause that’s what I know how to do.” Her smile made my breath hitch.

My world had turned upside-down and I must have been still high, cause I liked it.

God bless idiot drivers and George Michael concerts.

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