Hearing the rumble of thunder, Tom rolled up the car windows before taking the exit ramp off the interstate. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as the familiar sound of loose gravel rumbled beneath him and the tired willows fluttered as if welcoming him home. As the road winded before him, the light from the busy highway gave way to the calmness of a summer night. After driving for a few more minutes, the light of the sprawling TA gas station came into sight. Tom touched the movement in his jeans and sighed.
Almost there.
He whipped his silver Toyota coupe into the station, almost forgetting that there was anyone else in the world, and navigated past the pumps and the storefront to a dimly lit, remote corner of the station's parking lot. Tom killed the engine and reclined his seat, scanning his surroundings for unwanted guests. Finding that the coast was clear, he grabbed a thin blanket from the backseat and draped it over himself so that his lower half was completely covered. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled himself out, throbbing and impatient. Before pulling up the phone browser, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure of his own touch.
His thoughts wandered between exes, wannabe exes, and few women he had seen in passing. The excitement of sneaking into empty classrooms and bending Sara over a cold, hard desk, her back dimples flexing with each thrust. Sitting in the backseat while Dasia rode him and hypnotized him with the serpent-like motion of her butterscotch-colored back. The moaning in his ears, the wetness he could drown in...
Knock knock knock
. Tom opened his eyes and jumped to reconfigure himself. A young woman stood on the other side of his car door. With the window down, Tom said, "Uh...sorry about that."
"Don't worry about it." She locked eyes with him, lingering for a second too long. "I was wondering if you could give me a jump." She pointed to a tiny Ford Focus about 200 feet away. Tom couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before.
"Sure, that's no problem. I'll drive right over."
The woman flashed a smile and turned to walk back to her car. Her sandals slapped against the pavement, her walk accentuating her hourglass figure. Her yellow spaghetti strap top revealed an arrow tattoo running along her right shoulder blade, and her jean shorts rested high above her knees, slightly riding up as she walked. Her curly ringlets waved in the breeze, and the lights from the station reflected off her smooth, light brown skin. Tom stopped himself from staring and started the engine. He threw the blanket in the backseat and drove over to the woman.
Tom popped the hoods of both vehicles and connected the batteries by jumper cables, after taking a moment to locate them. The woman stood with arms folded, watching Tom move between the vehicles. His veiny hands searching for the hood latch, his broad shoulders tight beneath a fitted grey T-shirt.
"Thanks for helping me out." She said. "This car is a piece of shit."
Tom laughed. "Mine's not much better. The only reason I know anything about cars is because I've had to learn how to fix the shitbuckets I've had." He took a step back from the cars and stood next to the woman. "Anything to help out a stranger."
"I've actually seen you before."
"Me? Are you sure?"
She flashed another dimpled smile and said, "Yeah, yeah I'm pretty sure. You're here around 9 every Thursday, right?"
Tom scrunched his face in disbelief. "Are you stalking me or something?"
"No, I think we might have the same hobby."
They remained silent as the purring of the engines filled the space between them.
