Hey Nineteen

At any rate, the police had my name and contact information, and they said I was free to go. I looked around for Katrina, but her manager had given her the rest of the day off and it looked like she'd promptly split, because I didn't see her anywhere. I couldn't say I blamed her, but I would have liked the chance to check on her.

I knew my milk and eggs were rotting in my truck, so I headed to the front of the store and left. It had been an interesting day, but it was time to go the fuck home.

"Did you ever find that lost bag of groceries?" a voice said from behind me. I spun around to see Katrina sitting on a picnic table off to the right of the entrance. She still wore her bandana, so I couldn't see her lips, but the tightening of her cheek muscles told me she was smiling. She'd obviously ditched the apron in the store, and with it out of the way, her T-shirt stretched a little tighter across her chest than I thought. I'd caught a few glances of her delectable ass during all the paperwork inside and it looked like the top matched the bottom -- both a touch too big for her frame, and both fucking amazing.

This girl was basically built for sex. Given the social distancing guidelines of the day, this was not the time to be thinking about such things. But facts are facts.

"Yeah," I said. "Sitting in my truck, just like it was when I asked you about it."

She nodded, but gave me no other reply. She just looked at me for a few more moments before dropping her eyes to the ground. The cheeks had given away the smile before, but now they gave away nothing. Coupled with her mask, I couldn't really use her facial expressions to guess what she was thinking.

The cashier that had been working her lane sat at the opposite end of the table, and looked back and forth between the two of us like she was watching the Wimbledon finals. She held her mask in her hand, so the coy grin on her face was plain to see. She stood up and took a few steps toward the entrance, but when she turned back to briefly face me, the grin had morphed into a full-wattage smile.

"Thank you, young man," she said. "That was very noble of you."

I just nodded as she disappeared into the store, leaving Katrina and I alone.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, drawing her eyes back up to mine. She'd thanked me a few times, but with all the questioning and commotion around us, I hadn't gotten a chance to really talk to her.

"Yeah, I think so," she said. "Just a little shocking, that's all."

"Of course," I said. "But you handled yourself real well. With what I saw you do to his little buddy, hell, I dunno if I even needed to get involved."

Her eyes danced a little at that.

"Oh, no," she said. "Kicking that douchebag in the nuts was therapeutic, but seriously, I couldn't have held both of them off for long. He'd already grabbed my ass, and he was moving to my boobs when you jumped in. Who knows what they would have been able to do to me before the cops showed up? So, again, thank you. I really mean that."

I might have blushed a little. "You're welcome."

"And don't you dare say anyone else would have done the same," she added with a slight chuckle.

"Naw, not anyone," I said. "Anyone should, mind you, but some people would rather just film others' misfortunes than actually help them. Can't say I'm sorry that woman had it on video, though. Made things easier with the cops."

"Well, her, I don't blame," she said. "By the time she noticed something was going on, you had it well under control."

"Yeah, but you never know," I said. "If a few more people had called him out, he mighta left without me making him lose his lunch all over the floor."

"I actually enjoyed that part," she said with a laugh. I genuinely liked that sound, and I briefly joined her.

"So, your name tag says Katrina, but your boss called you Trina," I said. "You have a preference?"

"Trina," she replied. "Katrina's my full first name, but no one but my mom calls me that, and even then only when she's pissed at me."

"I got a hunch you don't like Kat, though," I said with a chuckle.

"I fucking hate it," she spat back. "That asshole and his friends are the only ones who ever called me that."

"Trina it is, then," I answered. She waited for a few seconds, waiting for me to say something else, but finally, she had to ask.

"And your name is...?"

"I guess I thought I told you at some point in there," I said with a laugh. "Houston. Houston Wynn."

"And I'm Trina Cameron," she said. "I'd shake your hand, but you know... anyway, it's nice to meet you, Houston."

"Likewise, on both accounts," I replied. "Though, I wish the circumstances were just a bit different."

She laughed in agreement but didn't say anything. We just looked at one another for a long moment, her sitting at the picnic table and me standing what felt like 6 feet away. It didn't feel awkward in any way, at least not to me. I was genuinely enjoying her company, which was a new experience for me when it came to someone of her generation. I didn't know what she was thinking, but all the sudden, I had something important I really wanted to say.

"I hope this isn't too forward," I said, sitting down across from her but on the far end of the bench, so as to keep some distance between us. Her eyes danced wildly now. It was as if she'd been waiting for me to make the next move in the conversation, but this wasn't going to be that.

"Those guys were obviously assholes, and I sincerely doubt they'll be the last two you ever meet," I continued. "There are a lot of shitheads out there that just want something, and don't mind pushing their luck if you don't want to give it. Rise above all that shit, just like you did today, and don't put up with it. It's okay to be a little rattled after what happened today, though I'm not really sure you are, to be honest. Either way, it's obvious that you're a very strong young lady, and any man worthy of your attention is going to be just as impressed with your resolve as I am. Don't let a couple of dicks throw you off of you being you."

Her eyes glistened a little now, and she slowly reached up to take off her mask. She was smiling from ear-to-ear, and now that I could see her entire face, I was blown away by how pretty she actually was. I mean, yeah, her body was sexy, but her face was beautiful. She had the classic unblemished skin of young adulthood, with high cheek bones and slight dimples leading the way to full, kissable lips. Every so often her tongue would slip between them, and it was hard not to imagine what it would taste like tangling with mine.

Snap the fuck out of it, dumbass.

"Where did that come from?" she asked after a moment, not in an unkind way. She sounded surprised, but not offended.

"I have a seven year-old daughter," I answered, removing my own mask so she could at least see my face while we talked. "I guess I was just practicing for the talk I'm gonna have to have with her in a few years."

I chuckled as she looked down at my hands.

"No wedding ring, though?" she asked.

"Nope," I replied. "Been divorced about 4 years now."

"What happened?" she inquired.

"Not worth getting into," I replied. "Let's just say that women can be assholes too, sometimes."

She giggled, and it was honestly just as sexy as the rest of her. It was time to go before I did or said something stupid.

"Listen, Trina," I said. "It really was nice meeting you, and I'm glad I could help out today. Just think about what I said, ok? I gotta get going. Take care of yourself."

I was only a few steps away when she called out.

"Houston?" The question in her voice made me turn around. "This might be too much to ask, but.. my car is actually in the shop right now, so I had to take an Uber to work today. Do you think you could maybe drive me home?"

I grinned wryly. "Aren't you a little young to be getting into cars with strange men?"

"Hey, I'm 19!" she exclaimed, and I couldn't help but laugh. An old, familiar tune began playing in my head, but of course, she couldn't hear it.

"I'll be 20 in August," she said, continuing to defend herself. "What's so funny?"

"The way you said it, just made me think of a song," I explained. "Just a backstory there. I'm sorry."

"Whatever," she said, waving her fingertips at me. "Besides, you just saved my ass in there. I don't think someone who would do that would do anything to hurt me."

"No," I agreed. "I wouldn't. But there is the little matter of this pandemic... hard to stay six feet apart from me sitting in the passenger seat of my truck."

"You've already touched me twice," she said.

"Once," I corrected. "I touched your shoulder to get your attention while the dipshit twins were bothering you. I think I can be forgiven for that one."

"Yes, but also when we were putting groceries into your cart," she added.

"That was you touching me," I laughed.

"That's not the way I remember it," she laughed back. "Seriously though, they took my temperature this morning, and I've had no symptoms. I don't even leave my apartment except to come here. I'm as clean as I can be without actually being tested. You?"

"I've actually been tested," I said with a grin. "One of the guys I work with, his wife got it. So a bunch of us got tested, 'bout 10 days ago."

"And you're grocery shopping, so I guess you tested negative."

"You guess correctly."

"Sounds like we're both OK, then." She stood up and walked up next to me, destroying any pretense of a six-foot bubble and peering up into my eyes with her steely blues. "Any other excuses?"

I could think of a million other reasons why this was a bad idea. Only one left my lips.

"Other than the fact that you might be extremely dangerous?" I countered.

She blushed as she bit her lower lip. "That sounds like more of a reason to do it than not to."

I met her eyes with mine for a few seconds. I wasn't sure how far I wanted this to go, but I quickly decided I didn't want it to end just yet. "I'm inclined to agree with you. Let's go."

I led her to my truck and walked around to her side, opening the door and holding it for her.

"You know I can open my own door, right?" she asked, casting an odd look at me.

"You just kicked a grown man in the nuts a bit ago," I laughed. "So, yeah, I doubt you'd have much trouble with the door."

She climbed up into the cab and settled into the seat. I shut the door before she could answer me, but it was still waiting on her lips when I climbed into my side.

"So why, then?" she asked.

"Maybe I just wanted to admire the view," I said. She blushed deeply and coughed a little at my forwardness, but she also raised her eyebrows as she gazed back at me. I had definitely admired her shapely ass and long legs a bit more than was absolutely necessary while she'd climbed in.

"You could have just asked," she said, poking her tongue out between her lips slightly.

"Good to know," I replied with a dry chuckle. "Seriously, though, maybe chivalry died sometime between my generation and yours, but just because you don't need me to open your door for you, doesn't mean I don't want to."

She thought about that for a second, then just offered up a "Huh," like it was genuinely something she'd never considered before. She probably hadn't.

"You want some hand sanitizer?" I asked, pulling mine from the console again. She nodded, and I squeezed some on her palms, then watched as she rubbed her hands together. I don't know why I was entranced with that simple motion, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. Her fingertips were painted a pale blue, and a brief image of what they'd look like wrapped around my cock flashed through my mind before I could blink it away.

When I looked back up to her face, she was watching me carefully. She just smiled, but didn't say anything.

"So, Trina, where am I going?" I asked.

"Ummm," she started. "If it's not too much trouble, could you just drive for a while? I live in an apartment just off-campus, but my roommate is gone for the summer, and I don't really feel like being alone right now."

I nodded in understanding and pulled out of the parking lot. I merged onto the highway and set the cruise control.

"So is Houston your real name, or just a nickname?" she asked. "I'm no expert, but it sounds like you could be from there."

"Maybe you are an expert," I replied. "It is my real name, and my parents named me after where I was born and raised."

"That southern accent of yours..." she trailed off for a second. "I won't lie. I thought you were hot when you started loading your groceries, but once I heard you talk..." I raised my eyebrows a bit. "What?" she asked.

"Just surprised at your boldness, s'all," I said.

"You saw me check you out, so there's no reason to act like I didn't," she answered. "Why shouldn't I be bold?"

"A lot of younger people are just... not, I guess."

"Please don't make assumptions based on my age, Houston," she answered. "And I promise, I won't do the same."

"Ouch!" I exclaimed, but I was smiling. "If you're gonna wound a man like that, you ought to at least offer to fix it."

"Aww, poor baby," she grinned back. "You want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"That'd probably do the trick," I replied. "But I rather like my truck, and I'm not sure I'd be able to keep it on the road if you did."

She laughed out loud at that, and I just smirked. She kept smiling at me -- and I liked her smile, so I didn't want her to stop -- but after a second, her eyes lit up a little too.

"Oh! What song were you talking about? When I told you my age and you laughed?"

I grabbed my phone and pulled up the appropriate playlist. Pretty soon, the smooth tones of Steely Dan's "Hey Nineteen" were playing over my bluetooth. We listened to the first verse together in silence, but her face started to twitch when the chorus began.

Hey nineteen

No we can't dance together

No we can't talk at all

Please take me along as you slide on down

"So we can't dance together, huh?" she asked, a coy smile now playing on her lips.

"We can't, but that's not about your age," I said. "Nobody wants to see me try to dance."

"I bet I could teach you," she replied.

I bet you could, I silently replied.

The second verse began, and she was quiet again.

Hey nineteen, that's 'Retha Franklin

She don't remember the Queen of Soul

Hard times have fallen on soul survivors

She thinks I'm crazy, but I'm just growin' old

As soon as Aretha Franklin's name was mentioned, Trina's face lit up a little and she fished her own phone out of her purse.

Hey nineteen

No we've got nothing in common

No we can't talk at all

Please take me along as you slide on down

"Oh, now it's not just dancing," she said, rolling her eyes a bit. "We have nothing in common? Nothing at all?"

"It's a song," I replied. "And in general, no, I don't have a lot in common with most people your age. But... you were right. I shouldn't judge you on a number. And besides... you seem a little different."

"Thank you," she said, giving me a genuine smile now. "And by the way, here."

She handed me her phone. I recognized the Spotify app -- it was what we were using to listen to Steely Dan. The playlist title was "My Happy Place," and it was dotted with songs by the great Ms. Franklin herself. The classics were there, to be sure; "Respect," "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman," "I Say a Little Prayer"; but there were a couple of lesser known songs like "Chain of Fools" and "Freeway of Love," too.

"I stand corrected," I said. "You win."

She stuck her tongue out at me -- either to remind me that she was still young despite all of that, or to tease me, or both -- then turned to look out the window.

"Can I ask you something now?" She nodded back at me. "Was this the first time this asshole tried to assault you at the store?"

She shuddered a little. "Yeah," she answered. "I wasn't even supposed to be up front. I'm actually a shift manager, in charge of the produce and bakery areas, but our trucks are a day late this week. I didn't have anything else to do, so I worked check out a bit, then started bagging when my lane closed."

"So he just got lucky to even see you," I said.

"If that's the word you want to use, yeah," she answered. "Hell, I'd only seen him one other time since my sister dumped his ass, at a little dive restaurant near my parents' house, and he talked a lot of crap to me, but didn't try anything. There were a ton of people around that day, though. Not as many today. God... I can't believe that happened."

"Remember what I told you," I said. "Douchebags gonna do douchebag things, ok?"

"I know," she said. "And I know I did my best to fend them off, but..." she trailed off.

"You were a badass, Trina," I said. "Truly. But it's still a crazy thing. No one deserves to get groped in public like that."

She looked at me with a grateful smile, but also a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I dunno," she said. "Under different circumstances, it could be kind of fun."

That, too, caught me off-guard. This girl had a habit of doing that.

"Granted," I answered. "But I have this little weird thing about groping women, in public or otherwise. I'd prefer it be consensual."

"Oh, that's a dealbreaker for you, huh?" she laughed.

"Yes, ma'am," I returned her laugh.

I took an exit after a few more minutes. I didn't know when she'd want to go home, but I tried to stay relatively near the OSU campus.

"Is it my turn now? Can I ask you something?" she asked, and I nodded. "Why did you come back into the store? I really thought you forgot one of your bags."

I let out a good belly laugh. "No, that was just me trying to come up with a good way to get involved in your conversation. I spent a few years in Army intelligence, and a few more years working for various three-letter federal agencies. I'm observant, and I trust my instincts. I watched the assholes leave the store and get in their truck, and I watched them walk back in. And despite what I said in the store, I was reasonably sure they weren't going back for baby oil."

She laughed hard at that.

"And here I was hoping you'd come back in because you found me attractive, and just happened to find them messing with me."

"No," I replied. "Though, I do find you attractive."

"So why not stay in there and talk to me, when I noticed you looking at me after they left, before they came back in? Is it my age?"

"I mean, that might have been a little bit of it, but not really, no."

"Is it the age difference?"

"Again, no, but I do think there's a bit larger age gap than you think," I said. "How old do you think I am?"

"I really don't know," she said. "Maybe 33? 34?"

I laughed. "I turn 40 next month."

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed.

"Indeed," I said. "I say that every time I think about my birthday coming up."

"Well, whatever. If it's not my age, or the age gap, then why not come talk to me? I wasn't exactly shy about checking you out."

"No," I agreed. "You were not. I don't think I was particularly bashful about doing the same. But just because a woman looks at me doesn't mean she wants to jump in bed with me."

She blushed fiercely now, but she also looked deep in thought, as if that particular concept was foreign to her. Again... it probably was. As hot as Trina was, the boys she hung around in school were probably the good-looking, cocky jock types that would have no problem telling her exactly what they wanted to do with her. I knew the type, because once upon a time, I was the type. I was still confident now, but I'd learned some restraint over the past 20 years.

She still hadn't responded, so I finished off the thought.

"So, anyway, yeah. I was flattered, Trina. But there were no billboards over your head that told me you wanted me to come talk to you."