Free A Year of You by A. D. Roland

if I believe that. Let’s at least go back to the Navigator. You don’t want her to see you out here like this.”
To her surprise he got up and followed her up to the Navigator. He climbed into the backseat and stretched out, arms over his eyes. Mattie stuck the keys in the ignition and turned the radio on, figuring music would help soothe him.
    “I don’t know anymore,” he grumbled.

    “’bout what?”

    “Emeline. Me. Us. To be totally honest, I see everything about her that you keep bringing up.”
    “Why do you put up with it? If she loves you, then she’ll change. Screw that crap about not changing for a man.”

    “Would you change for a man?”

    “What’s to change?” Mattie laughed. “I’m the girl any guy would love to have.”                                      “Really.”

    “Really.”
    “Give her the choice, West. You or...them. Although if you don’t respond to that little show in there, something’s wrong with you.”

    “I don’t know what to do about it.”

    “Um, idiot. You tell her you saw her, you saw exactly what was going on, and you’re done with her. She’ll either change or...not.”

    “I hate ultimatums.”

    Mattie had been sitting sideways in the passenger seat, looking back at him. She whipped all the way around, barely clinging to the seat with her buttocks. “You’re stupid, West! She’s in there letting guys crawl all over her. She’s going to expect you to go home with her and finish up where they left off. That is, if there’s something they didn’t do to her tonight! Come on, man, you’re better than that.”
    “Don’t lecture me.”
    “You are so freakin’ frustrating. You are worse than some abused woman crawling back to her husband. She’s using you, West.”
    “I don’t wanna hear it, Mattie.”
    “Fine. Just for the love of all that’s holy don’t sleep with her tonight. I will lose all my respect for you.”
    West sat halfway up. “I don’t care if you respect me or not. You’re just some interloper in our lives.”
    “Fuck you then. Screw your life up. She’s doesn’t care one bit about you. You don’t have anything to offer her.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “You’re the one that’s getting fucked, and not in the good way. You’ll see.” Mattie shoved herself back into the seat and turned the radio up even louder. After a second of trying to figure out the lyrics to the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s “Snow,” a thought struck her. She twisted around in the seat again. “Hey, West?”
    “Fuck you,” he replied in a bored, singsong. “Don’t you know what that means?”

    “Why don’t you tell me, West?”

    He sat up on his elbows. “Someone needs to bend you over something and fuck you until you cry.”
    Mattie raised her eyebrows. “Wow. That actually sounds pretty good, West. You volunteering?”
    He groaned and flopped back down on the seat, his arm over his eyes. System Of A Down came on the radio. Mattie scanned through until she found Josh Groban singing something she couldn’t quite identify.
    “Please, for the love of all that’s holy, turn it.”

    “Nope. Josh is one yummy piece of man-meat.”

    “Come on.”

    “Bet he’d bend me over something and...” Mattie laughed at the half-disgusted sneer on his face.
    “Turn it, now.”
    “Nope.”
    West moved forward, but Mattie wiggled in front of the radio and grabbed the dash. West tried to pull her away, but she hung on, laughing and shrieking when he resorted to tickling her. When she couldn’t take anymore, she let go and fell against him. He whooped in triumph, pulled her into the backseat, and hit the first preset on the radio, returning the radio to the rock station.
    Mattie crawled up into the seat. It was still warm from his body. “Ouch. You scratched me,” she complained, rubbing her side. “Good thing I like it rough.”
    West settled back into the bench seat close to her.