Free Slide (Black Addiction #1) by T. Gephart Page B

draw the line at assholes. And people who listen to country music, because that shit ain’t right.”
    I blinked back in confusion. “I don’t need a kidney. Or listen to country music.”
    “You just keep saying all the right things. So, what’s this big ask you hunted me down for?”
    The street was only a mildly better venue than the bakery, the noise of the road peppering the air around us while we continued this bizarre conversation. The one where I admitted that maybe I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
    “I need you to help me be more like you.” The words found their way out of my mouth. It seemed even if my mind had no idea, somehow it had formulated the request.
    “Alison, I haven’t seen you naked, but I can assure you, you would make a terrible guy.” He laughed. Not sure if he missed my point, or it was his attempt at humor.
    “No, I don’t want to be a guy.” My head shook as I tried to clarify, realizing how scattered I sounded. “I mean, you. Look at you.” My hands waved in front of him animatedly to prove my point. “Nothing fazes you. Before I met you, you said you were playing support to Power Station on a huge tour.” I didn’t need to hide my admiration. “Destined for greatness. The big time.”
    “Just because we haven’t hit the big time doesn’t mean we haven’t achieved greatness. I’m here to tell you, greatness was definitely achieved.”
    “Okay, of course. I mean. Like you weren’t a huge success.” My stumbling words dug a deeper hole. I truly sucked at this.
    “So, are we trying to make you feel better or me feel inadequate?” He eyed me intently. “Because if it’s me, you’ve got your work cut out for you. I don’t buy into that shit.”
    “Yes!” My hands clapped of their own accord. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. That’s what I want. Teach me to be like that. Show me the ways, oh wise one, so I too won’t give a shit.”
    My sudden burst of enthusiasm caught him off guard. It was the first and only time I’d seen him actually surprised.
    “You want me to teach you how to not give a shit?”
    “Yes . . . Please . . . Yes.” Manners were important, especially now.
    “Ordinarily I’d say that the responsibility of teaching anybody anything that isn’t musical would be a big mistake.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck; he was close to agreeing, I could feel it.
    “But—” I encouraged him to continue.
    “But, given your impassioned plea, I am finding it very hard to say no. Plus, I’ve always wanted to Mr. Miyagi someone. Sure. Yes. I’ll do it.”
    And just like that, he agreed. I had to fight the urge not to leap into his arms and kiss him. That would have been bad. Especially considering we were embarking on this new relationship which didn’t include touching. I was assuming it didn’t; it had yet to be discussed.
    “Great. I’m so excited. When do we start?”
    “We can start tomorrow. You can wax my car.”
    Wax his car? I wanted inspiration, not manual labor. Even if I did want to do it, I could barely wash dishes, detailing a car was . . . no. Just. No.
    “Rusty, I am not waxing your car.” Your chest however is another matter. I’d be down for that.
    “This might be a problem then. You have to do whatever I say. That is the deal.” His brow furrowed. Oh, wow. He was serious.
    “How is waxing your car going to make me not give a shit?” More to the point, why did he want me to do it? Unless waxing his car was code for something else.
    “Have you not watched The Karate Kid at all?” His eyes widened, throwing out his arms in disbelief. He waited until I shook my head no before continuing. “You are in bigger trouble than I thought. Okay, new plan. You’re coming over tonight and we’re watching it.”
    Yes. That’s what I had wanted to say but sadly I wasn’t going to be able. I had plans tonight. Important ones. Boxes. Packing tape. Sharpies. All of which would be sharing my evening along