Crushed by A.M. Khalifa Read Free Book Online Page B

understandably shifted and I could no longer trust their definition of good girls to line up with mine. Not to mention I was doing pretty fine seducing any number of stunning ladies all on my very own.
    Still, the name Melinda Brand never went away. Hoping I could get my parents to stop badgering me about her, I finally caved in during that last Thanksgiving break before I graduated. I’d give them a lousy hour of my life with the Brands over for coffee at our place, hoping this would be the end of it.
    I came home on the day thirty minutes late, hoping my nonchalance and rudeness would send a clear message to that Melinda character not to get her hopes up because I wasn’t going to be interested.
    As I emerged from my car, I saw something that promised to distract me even more from the hell waiting inside my parents’ house, a young woman in rust-colored leather getting off a Harley. She parked in front of our neighbor’s, her long hair cascading down to her waist as she took off her helmet. Her body cut through the air with grace as she made her way to the front door. But this was the house of Berthold’s who to the best of my knowledge only had two boys. And if they did have a daughter, and she looked like this, how could I have missed her?
    “Nice ride. Bobcat?”
    “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she said, burrowing through me with laser green eyes.
    I am usually subtle when sizing up a woman with the intent to make a move, but as I moved closer it was obvious this one was off the charts. Taller than most, ample where it mattered, curves carved in heaven, and pouty lips. And those eyes…
    I took off my shades and caught a suspicion of a smirk on her face, like she too was secretly admiring what she saw.
    “Larry,” I said extending my hand in peace.
    She bit her lips.
    “Larry. What kind of name is that?”
    “A regular name, only like a gazillion times more awesome.”
    “If you were an accountant or a country clerk, sure.”
    “Happy to change it for you if you like.”
    “Really?” She smiled.
    “Really. I just have one condition.”
    She titled her head to the side, her eyes probing me. “And that would be?”
    “I take you out for dinner tonight.”
    “You don’t say.”
    “I just did.”
    “Let me get this straight, Larry. You’d change your name for one lousy date with a girl you only just met. Is that how desperate you are?”
    “Desperate is a loaded word. I prefer…eager.”
    “Sure you do.”
    “I’m a gentleman like that.”
    “What would you change it to?”
    “Let me guess, you’d prefer Igor, Winston, or Maxwell.”
    “Would you consider Stanley or Herbert?”
    “High school crushes?”
    “Way better. Life idols. Stanely Cohen and Herbert Boyer invented DNA cloning—”
    “Which allowed genes to be transplanted between biological species. Their work gave birth to genetic engineering,” I finished her sentence for her.
    “I am impressed Herb.”
    She winked at me with the confidence of a middle-aged hairy biker and the measured seduction of a high-society hooker.
    “While we are on the subject of herbs, shall we say eight?”
    “Eight what?”
    “Pick you up for dinner, tonight.”
    “You’re not planning on letting it go are you?”
    “Our entire species would have been extinct if the male variant took no for an answer.”
    “Now you’re turning me on, Herb,” she said running her hands through her hair in mock arousal. “Keep talking evolution and we could skip dinner altogether...”
    “Except we need to eat.”
    “So just dinner?”
    “Well, dinner and drinks, dinner and life-changing conversation, dinner and the best time of your life,” I said returning her wink.
    She eyed me from top to bottom.
    “If it’s okay with your parole officer and we’ll stay within the range of your ankle bracelet, I’ll say yes.”
    “Smart girl.’
    “Wait. Only if it’s dinner and those things you mentioned, but nothing else. Are we clear?”
    “Oh, come on!