leftover takeout containers. Instead we went out for breakfast. We got into his Ford Shelby and drove to a place not far from his house and right near the Key City ferry dock. In fact, Mack’s house was just a little farther down the bay. It was walking distance on a nice day, however, he wasn’t the kind of guy you would see taking a twenty-minute morning stroll into town.
Mack seemed distracted during the entire drive. He was constantly checking his rearview mirror and even turned almost fully in his seat to have a good look around when we’d reached a stoplight.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, unable to ignore how nervous he was making me feel.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said before shifting the car into gear and taking off as soon as the light turned green.
When we reached the restaurant, he asked the waitress to seat us in a booth away from the window, and Mack sat opposite of me so that he faced the room. I attempted to make small talk after we ordered our food, but he seemed disinterested and only gave short answers, so I stopped talking. I noticed the way his eyes would catch sight of something and stare for a long moment before he would focus his attention back on me. We ate in silence, and the food was tasteless to me. This wasn’t the man I’d just spent the last twelve hours with. It was hard not to feel like I was the reason for his behavior. Was he worried that we’d be seen together? While I was mostly sure that wasn’t the case, part of me couldn’t discount the idea completely, so I decided to get it out in the open.
After putting down my fork, I took a sip of my orange juice, then another sip before I felt my voice rise to the surface, and I cleared my throat.
“Mack . . .” That’s when his phone rang.
“It’s about time,” he barked into the phone and turned his face away. “Did you get my text? Yeah . . . All morning . . . How the hell am I supposed to know?” The conversation continued with one-sided answers, and I had no clue what he was talking about. When the waitress arrived with the bill, Mack threw some cash on the table and grabbed my hand as we exited the restaurant. He motioned for me to get into the car while he walked a few feet away, lit a cigarette, and paced while talking on his phone and looking around.
Crossing my arms, I rested back against the seat and waited. The car was immaculate. The leather seats were polished, the chrome shined, and not a speck of dirt on the floors. I ran my fingers along the smooth contours of the dash admiring the beauty of the car, and that’s when the glove box popped open and out poured a pile of colorful material. It took my brain several seconds to comprehend that a mountain of panties just fell onto my lap. Red, black, white, and turquoise panties were everywhere, but what really caught my attention were the pale pink satin panties I thought I’d lost at the hotel. Feeling enraged, I shoved them all to the ground. I pulled open the door and stormed over to Mack, waving my stolen panties at him.
“What the fuck, Mack!” I screamed. He whirled around, his eyes growing wide as he watched me approach. Then his stare went to what I was holding in my hand, and his face went pale. He said something quickly into the phone and then ended the call.
“Jonna, hang on a minute. I—”
“Collect panties like some kind of perv?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Okay, so do you wear women’s panties then?” My voice reached a higher octave as I tried not to go into hysterics. Oh God please say no. Please don’t let him be into wearing women’s underwear.
“Fuck no,” he shot back and actually had the nerve to look offended.
“Well, if you feel insulted by that imagine, how I feel finding my panties hanging out with a group of other panties. So I’ll repeat. What the fuck, Mack?”
He ran a hand over his face and stared at the ground, then he mumbled something I didn’t hear.
“What?” I said, wanting
Mack seemed distracted during the entire drive. He was constantly checking his rearview mirror and even turned almost fully in his seat to have a good look around when we’d reached a stoplight.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, unable to ignore how nervous he was making me feel.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said before shifting the car into gear and taking off as soon as the light turned green.
When we reached the restaurant, he asked the waitress to seat us in a booth away from the window, and Mack sat opposite of me so that he faced the room. I attempted to make small talk after we ordered our food, but he seemed disinterested and only gave short answers, so I stopped talking. I noticed the way his eyes would catch sight of something and stare for a long moment before he would focus his attention back on me. We ate in silence, and the food was tasteless to me. This wasn’t the man I’d just spent the last twelve hours with. It was hard not to feel like I was the reason for his behavior. Was he worried that we’d be seen together? While I was mostly sure that wasn’t the case, part of me couldn’t discount the idea completely, so I decided to get it out in the open.
After putting down my fork, I took a sip of my orange juice, then another sip before I felt my voice rise to the surface, and I cleared my throat.
“Mack . . .” That’s when his phone rang.
“It’s about time,” he barked into the phone and turned his face away. “Did you get my text? Yeah . . . All morning . . . How the hell am I supposed to know?” The conversation continued with one-sided answers, and I had no clue what he was talking about. When the waitress arrived with the bill, Mack threw some cash on the table and grabbed my hand as we exited the restaurant. He motioned for me to get into the car while he walked a few feet away, lit a cigarette, and paced while talking on his phone and looking around.
Crossing my arms, I rested back against the seat and waited. The car was immaculate. The leather seats were polished, the chrome shined, and not a speck of dirt on the floors. I ran my fingers along the smooth contours of the dash admiring the beauty of the car, and that’s when the glove box popped open and out poured a pile of colorful material. It took my brain several seconds to comprehend that a mountain of panties just fell onto my lap. Red, black, white, and turquoise panties were everywhere, but what really caught my attention were the pale pink satin panties I thought I’d lost at the hotel. Feeling enraged, I shoved them all to the ground. I pulled open the door and stormed over to Mack, waving my stolen panties at him.
“What the fuck, Mack!” I screamed. He whirled around, his eyes growing wide as he watched me approach. Then his stare went to what I was holding in my hand, and his face went pale. He said something quickly into the phone and then ended the call.
“Jonna, hang on a minute. I—”
“Collect panties like some kind of perv?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Okay, so do you wear women’s panties then?” My voice reached a higher octave as I tried not to go into hysterics. Oh God please say no. Please don’t let him be into wearing women’s underwear.
“Fuck no,” he shot back and actually had the nerve to look offended.
“Well, if you feel insulted by that imagine, how I feel finding my panties hanging out with a group of other panties. So I’ll repeat. What the fuck, Mack?”
He ran a hand over his face and stared at the ground, then he mumbled something I didn’t hear.
“What?” I said, wanting
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