Read Out of Reach for Free Online Page B

gaze. “Loser pays for lunch,
sometime in the foreseeable future.”
    “Deal. Do we need to shake on it?”
    Rolling my eyes I laugh. “No, now pick your
mark.”
    I watch the graceful curve of her neck as
Gwen scans the room, trying to guess Melanie’s intended victim.
“There, across the bar, the blonde with the great smile in the blue
shirt. Do you see him?”
    Taking a sip of my beer, I say, “I see him,
and you couldn’t be more wrong. You’re making this too easy, Gwen.”
I rest my elbows on the table and ask, “Are you sure you don’t want
to try again?”
    Openly offended, Gwen glares at me. “No, and
don’t insult me. I think I know my best friend a little better than
you do. Who’s your bet?”
    I draw out my response to annoy her further.
“You see the table just behind your blonde?”
    “Yes.”
    “She’s headed for Mr.
Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, on the left.” All I can do is grin under
the frosty attitude being projected my direction.
    “We’ll see about that,” she says, her voice
full of prideful assurance. Gripping my glass with both hands, we
sit and silently watch the drama unfold before us. A few minutes
later we see Melanie cozying up to Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome. A
speechless Gwen turns to gape at me.
    Rising from my chair, I toss over my
shoulder, “Better luck next time.” I stride over to the bar and I
reclaim my favorite stool. I know better than to gloat with Gwen.
Redheads in general have a very short fuse; push them too far and
they go bat shit crazy on you. That’s a mess I’d prefer not to
clean up tonight.
     
    * * *
     
    Around 8p.m. Gwen joins me at the bar. “So,
any idea how much longer she might be?”
    Looking her over with genuine concern, I ask
Gwen, “You ready to go already?”
    “Yes, it was a frustrating day and I was
tired before we got here,” she admits. I glance in the direction of
the lovebirds and insinuate into their heads the notion that they
are tired and wish to go home.
    Turning a smile on Gwen, I tell her,
“Melanie won’t be much longer.” As if summoned, Melanie heads our
direction a few minutes later and I gently tap Gwen on the shoulder
to capture her attention.
    “Melanie’s on her way, let’s get you
home.”
    Smiling, Gwen slides off the barstool to
meet up with her friend and begin the interrogation. I lead the way
as we negotiate a path to the exit. Holding the door I wait for the
pair to catch up so the three of us can head out into the parking
lot together.

Chapter 7

    Melanie drops Gwen and I off in the parking
lot at Preston-Ward, quickly waving as she heads home for the
night. I dawdle in the parking lot under the false pretense of
checking my bike. Really I’m waiting to be sure Gwen makes it out
safely, but I do require a few moments to become reacquainted with
my motorcycle after a week’s absence.
    “Hello, old friend,” I say, running my hand
along the seat up to the handle bars. Lifting the helmet I find
Zafir has neatly tucked the keys inside. Strapping on the
protective apparatus, I mount her and fire up the engine, reveling
in the throaty sound as she comes to life. Checking the mirrors, I
see Gwen safely ensconced in her vehicle and I give the bike a
little gas, floating toward the exit. With a firm grip I keep my
girl reined in until Gwen’s Mini has backed out of its space and
pulled up behind me. After checking for traffic, I lead the bike
onto the deserted street. A block later I give the girl her head
and we race off into the night, seeking the highway and the sweet
release of speed.
    My head feels clearer with the wind on my
face and the smell of fresh air all around me. Phoenix doesn’t hold
a candle to an evening in San Diego. Exiting the freeway I smile
with pride—the engine hasn’t even broken a sweat, and the bike ...
she feels good in my hands. I take a second leisurely lap around
the block before descending into the underground parking garage of
my apartment building. Stabling the motorcycle