She watched him from her perch in the tree across the street. His scent was poignant, even from this distance. Chet reminded her of Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise-dirty, greasy, golden...he looked good enough to eat. She'd swear she felt herself catch her breath when she caught a glimpse of him which seemed next to impossible considering her mortal state. She wondered why he wouldn't take her calls...she'd left the pink envelope just under the edge of the garage door in hopes that she could reach him the old-fashioned way. He should come across it any minute now.
Chet greeted the morning with a mug of black coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He stepped out on to the sidewalk in front of the shop to stretch his legs. He was still a bit sore from last weekend, that girl really had worked him over. She'd been calling but he just wasn't sure if it was in his best interest to see her again. Walking over to open the big garage bay door, he spotted a pink envelope on the concrete just under the edge of the door...What the fuck? Who still hand delivers a letter? He thinks to himself. He doesn't know why, but as he reaches down to pick up the letter, a chill creeps up his spine and his body is instantly covered in goose bumps. All that is written on the outside of the envelope is his name, "Chet", in flowing red calligraphy letters.
Dear Chet,
Hello there stud! I hope you are doing okay. You won't return my calls or texts so I decided to write you this letter. First, I want to let you know how very much I appreciate what you did for me last weekend-fixing the truck, letting me stay with you and you know, everything else. I don't understand why you're ignoring me and I know you are. I was in the neighborhood one day waiting on you to come down and open the shop. I sat in that big oak tree across the street. I called you a few times that morning. I watched you. When the phone rang and you saw it was me, you put in back in your pocket. You pulled your hair and rubbed your chin like you were trying to decide whether or not to put down a dog that bit you...Oh, that's not it, is it? You're not angry because I went a little True Blood on you, are you? I admit I can get a little rough sometimes but most guys like that kind of stuff and I know you're no weakling. Besides, what's a little bloodsucking between friends, anyway? Hahaha
No, but seriously, I've been around the block a few times, but something about you just has me mesmerized. I cannot stop thinking about you-your rough, leathery skin, your gravel voice, your firm grip...Oh, Chet, just thinking about it makes me ache with desire. Even your smell sends me into a tailspin of furious wanting. Sometimes, I drive by the shop just so I can get the faintest trace of your scent. You are truly and maddeningly driving me insane. I've never felt this way before- purely intoxicated by love. So please, Chet, give me another chance. I don't know if it was the biting, the restraints, the sheer force, the banshee-like screaming or something else that has put you off but I promise whatever it was, I never intended to hurt you. I simply cannot let you go that easily. Chet, please don't make this any harder than it has to be. Don't let me suffer any longer...
With all my love,
Juliette
Chet stood there, confounded by the contents of Juliette's letter. His gut screamed, "Stay away from the crazy bitch!" but he figured maybe he'd humor her for a while...it really didn't look like he had much choice in the matter, anyway. He was pretty sure that was her in the oak tree across the street. Besides, she was amazingly hot and as evidenced by last weekend, the psycho ones are always a wild ride in bed. Moreover, he'll have one hell of a story to tell his buddies if she doesn't kill him.
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