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know why I asked her,” I said, pounding my beer as a headache kicked in.
    “If I had to guess,” Kristina whispered as she leaned over the bar, “I would say you like her.”
    “She’s gay.”
    Kristina burst out in laughter again as she slid a freshly poured beer down the bar. “I think she may be gay for you , Rafe.”
    “Bullshit,” I said as I paused and looked up at Kristina, who nodded once in the direction that Alice left. “Are you telling me she’s playing lesbian?”
    “I’m just saying”—she bent over the bar and gave me an eyeful of cleavage, which I appreciated for half a second—“exactly, Rafe.” She motioned to her chest. “I must have done that a few times and her eyes never hit pay dirt once. She’s bluffing.”
    “To keep me away,” I said, stunned.
    “Yes, big head.” Kristina walked down the bar as I sat there fuming. The woman had managed to piss me off twice since I met her and had made a fool of me.
    Oh yes, there would be fucking.
     

    I’d decided on a night of southern favorites— Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias —but would start it off with Forrest Gump while I doused myself with spray on tan. I felt it necessary due to the pathetic, pale tint of my skin. Standing in my living room while it dried, I repeated the words to the movie as I moved my arms back and forth in a windmill. Naked and feeling foolish for going to such efforts to look better in my newly purchased bikini, I mentally beat myself up for trying.
    Rafe.
    Just the mental image of him staring me down did things to my insides. Even if he acted like a monkey man who liked to build big fires to impress his peers, he was nothing short of gorgeous. He didn’t seem my type at all. Rafe didn’t think through the words that came out of his mouth or his actions, either, but I had to admit, it was a flaw of mine as well.
    I’d accused him of stereotyping, but in the back of my mind, I’d done the same to him.
    The man was the definition of arrogant and an athlete to boot. I could probably measure his depth and intelligence by the amount of space he allowed between his penis and the toilet water. God, and the sad line he used about letting go wouldn’t even make it into the cheesiest of ‘80s flicks I watched on repeat.
    And it seemed like he’d been getting away with it for a long time. I decided not to over analyze as I tried to relax while prepping for what I was sure was going to be a disastrous date...with a man...who thought I was a lesbian.
    I was dripping with sticky goo and was just about to shower it off to make it look more natural when I caught movement in the corner of my eye.
    I felt the jolt of terror race through me as I pressed my legs together to keep from peeing and ruining what I was sure was an expensive rug.
    A huge cockroach raced across my wall, and as I began to scream, I swear it started to scream with me as it scurried away. I grabbed the can of tanning spray and raced toward it while I yelled at the intruder at the top of my lungs, unloading the can on my cream colored wall. The bastard refused to stop or even acknowledge my ammunition as I used half of the can. Nothing in my well-educated brain reminded me that if it was safe to spray on human skin, it would be more than safe for a cockroach that could survive a nuclear war. As it made its way to safety, I realized I had just tanned a cockroach.
    Nervous laughter burst out of me as I scanned my walls and went straight for a broom in my hall closet. I made a beeline back to the living room and began to beat the ever loving crap out of every surface of the space. Hours later, with newly striped tan walls, my borrowed couch was torn apart, the room in utter disarray. I realized I was blackened by the tanning spray that I was supposed to have rinsed off and still fully naked. I crouched in my living room, still on the hunt, and felt utterly insane. I must have looked like Leo DiCaprio did when he lost his mind in that movie The