Thanks to Matt for his Two-Word submission

She saw him leaning over under the hood of her car, shirtless, muscles gleaming in the afternoon haze, and briefly wondered if there was a graceful way to suggest she fuck his brains out. Instead, she came around the side and politely asked whether it was ready yet.

He gave her a strange look; inwardly, she withered. “Yeah, it’s fixed.” His face suddenly creased into a smile. “Come back in the office, hon, I’ll get you a coke.”

She followed him into the little office at the back of the garage. He took two sodas from a small refrigerator and gave her one, motioning her onto the old couch next to the desk. He lowered himself into the swivel chair. They drank in silence for a moment. “You were long overdue for a tune-up. I replaced the spark plugs,” he recounted, “new air filter, changed the oil.” He looked at her sharply. “When’s the last time you got an oil change?”

Her shoulders drooped. “I can’t remember.”

He shrugged. “Well, I better see you again in three thousand miles, lady.”

She bit her lip and stared down into her coke. She’d only brought the car in to get a chance to talk to the guy. Not to get scolded for her lack of auto maintenance.

He sat up suddenly. “That came out wrong. You okay?”

She smiled. “Absolutely. How much do I owe you?”

“I’ll get to the bill in a minute,” he responded, “but I got a question.”

“What?”

“You’re a schoolteacher, right?”

She nodded.

“I notice you around town,” he said. “At church, the arts festival. You’re a nice girl. I like that.”

“You do?”

 “Listen, I’m not a classy guy. So don’t be offended, all right?” He took a deep breath and leaned forward. “Every time I see you, I want to fuck your brains out. Will you come home with me?”

Copyright 2006 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.

Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.