Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (1)

“That we would save the P.D.A while Hales was here,” Keely explained.

“Well, let's drop her off, and I have a better idea,” Tony leered across the seat from her, his two hands on the steering wheel.

With her thoughts revolving around that CD she’d left in his car, Keely had time to send him a distracted tight lipped smile before running her hands along the creases of the seats. It had to be there somewhere!

“Uh, god, person back here!”

Still Keely barely registered her friend’s words as she had found the miraculous object in question, giving a happy exclamation as she slipped the CD in. And as the beginning guitar chords of CCR’s Bad Moon Rising rang through the truck, she sank back with a content sigh.

“Tony,” Keely groaned, breaking away from the kiss with her fingers slipping away from his hair, “I really have to go home.”

Even though she’d pulled away, he just kissed down her chin and to her neck, making Keely give an involuntary shiver that had very little to do with desire. Yes, she liked Tony, well she supposed she loved him, but did she have to want him every moment?

When his hands moved to the back of her neck, attempting to pull her closer, she just arched away from him. “Seriously, stop.”

“But we haven’t even done it yet.”

She paused, looking at him incredulously. She was sure not all football players were that dumb, she’d even met more than a few that were intelligent so was it just the quarterbacks? “Did you really think that we were going to do anything in the back of your truck?” she asked disbelievingly, batting away his hands.

Giving a loud groan in complaint, Tony fell back in his seat, sending her a grumpy expression. “Are you on your period or something?”

Her eyes bulged. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“My problem?!” she cried out, glaring daggers at him. It always seemed that whenever she and Tony were together it ended in a fight, never any length of time around each other could they stay being blissfully happy. “My problem is that I had to listen to terrible music all night, have a headache and now my boyfriend expects me to sleep with him the back of the car. That’s my problem, you jackass.”

“Marissa James isn’t bad,” Tony said, speaking in a calm righteous tone that just furthered her anger. “And I don't understand number two.”

“Oh my god,” she grumbled, pushing him away as he slid closer to her on the seat as she shoved herself further away to the point her back was pressing against the door. “Marissa James can’t even sing anyone who knows anything can tell that. And you don’t understand the second you’re an ass with the literate capability of a donkey.”

His eyes narrowed on her, and he snapped, “Most girls don’t have complaints.”

“Ass,” Keely repeated, grabbing her bag from the seat and shoving her way clumsily from the truck shoving her way out of the door with her shoulder. That last comment had done it, like she needed to be reminded of half the reasons they’d broken up multiple times over the past few years.

“Keely,” Tony's voice was weary. “We’ve been through this a million times. Get back in the truck, I’ll drive you home.”

Was it sick that it didn’t even insult her that he didn’t bother to move when she’d gotten out; just stayed put, leaning back in his chair? “No, I think you and your “most girls” have pretty much filled the space in there, I’m afraid I might suffocate.”

“Get back in the truck, Keely. And when you're done pmsing you'll call me again.”

“You're just a dick,” she said disbelievingly. “And you should have bloody well known I’d never have sex with you in the backseat of your truck. That’s for the rest of your girls.”

“Fine,” he yelled abruptly, leaning forward, “Walk home for all I care.” With the words, he grabbed the mix CD and threw it out the door, it landing by her feet in the gravel. “Have fun,” Tony told her, leaning across the seat to snap her door shut.

And with that, he gunned the engine and swung the wheel around, gravel spitting dangerously around her.

Furiously Keely kicked at the ground, shouting, “You jerk! That was a good CD!”

Grabbing it from the ground because she couldn’t bare to leave it there, Keely shoved it into her bag as she grabbed her cell phone, moving forward with short livid steps. But even as she began dialling the first number that came to her mind, she noticed the lack of bars at the top. Her hand tightening dangerously over the piece, Keely realized it was going to be a long walk home.