Under the pink neon Daga Chicas sign above the parking lot, Tasìa threw her leg over the seat of her Virago 750. León hopped on behind her.
He carried her duffle bag holding the disassembled sniper rifle across his shoulders to make for some room on the seat.
Perhaps, she should have let him drive, but her legs were vicious with strength. Though he had the advantage, she could handle the extra two hundred and twenty-eight pounds he added to the bike without a problem.
She hit the acceleration, and they took off. She had agreed to take him to a car rental five miles away on the edge of a posh little suburb.
León would have settled for the rental company a short walk downtown, but she insisted on helping him.
"All those cars are crap. If you are going to drive all the way to Asunción, you need a decent car. Don't worry about the money. I've got this."
Being a gentleman at heart, León agreed to let her have her moment to shine like a boss.
With the breeze in her face, a handsome man on her bike, she should have enjoyed it.
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, Tasìa cursed herself. Talking myself into trying to do that before I was ready! What an idiot!
Tasìa sighed to herself. He was so beautiful just standing there with nothing attached but his sly grin.
At that moment on the bike, León held on to her waist. It felt nice, but neither did it trigger her. Perhaps, the mortification she still felt prevented that.
He was so beautiful.
She accelerated even more. León responded with a whoop.
Well, it could have been worse.
That it could have. When she turned around and faced León in the lavatory, her stomach heaved in a growl so loud even he was alarmed by it.
She barely had time to say 'excuse me' as she pushed him to the side. She jumped down to her knees and slid to the toilet, grabbed the sides of it, pressed her head down, and spewed out the entire content of that wonderful meal she just ate.
Fortunately, her dignity had been spared, even then, as no other bodily fluids or functions were involved. Who didn't empty their guts every now and then when they were having fun?
But, as she cleaned up at the sink, he put his clothes back on. Though she understood how her retching up her dinner took him out of the mood, she was expecting it even, on an emotional level it hurt to know that at least momentarily, he found her unappealing.
As they stood uncomfortably in the lavatory, León joked about her being a light drinker.
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She insisted that they go up to the bar and order another two rounds. She wanted to play it off, prove him wrong, and most importantly, get the foul taste out of her mouth.
Stupid Tasìa, stupid, stupid, stupid.
When they stopped in front of the car rental entrance, Tasìa turned to him.
"So, what are you looking for," she asked him as she eyed the lot, "see that sweet Lamborghini Huracán in metallic green?"
"That would cause a lot of attention."
"That is not always a bad thing," Tasìa answered.
"I would love to see Lt. Colonel Sol's face if I pulled up at the base driving that."
Tasìa smacked his stomach with a drumroll, "then do it!"
León began to nod his head. He convinced himself. He smiled down at her as he chuckled.
"What," she asked.
"When they busted you, they barely even touched your stash, right?"
Tasìa shook her head. She practically danced in place as she responded.
"Nada. Nada. My accomplices -", fucking Green-Eyed Elise, she thought with a quick gnaw of her jaw, "- were clueless."
Tasìa reached into a side pocket built into her fanny-pack. She dug out a debit card and held it up to León's face.
"When they ask you for a pin number, do you see those twelve digits lined up? Good. Start with the first number, skip to every third and you got it.
"I'm going to stay out here and check out some of the fine ass vixens on this lot."
She pointed to the double row of sports cars. In a few days, she would need to rent a vehicle for her own drive up to Asunción.
Tasìa was so lost in her thoughts as she drank in the not so subtle contours of a McLaren 590SX, she did not hear León as he approached, even though he tisked as he did so.
"Hot pink, ouch, a bit gauche, no?"
"You, shut up," Tasìa protested. "Since a girl can't have her own unicorn because they don't actually exist, the next best thing is a sports car that came straight out of a Barbie set collection."
León put an arm around her shoulder.
"My apologies. I didn't think you were the type."
She raised her chin in challenge.
"Oh, what type would that be?"
"A girlie-girl. You stomp spiders, shoot guns, kill shitty people."
Tasìa smiled as she once more regarded the real-life Barbie dream car.
"I'm whatever type my mood suits me."
He gently turned her around to face him.
"I need to get going, I'm afraid."
"Keep that card until I join you in Asunción. You may need it if you run into a toll or something."
León chuckled. "Any mood, huh? You are ever practical."
She shook her head.
"That's not so much a mood, but a disposition."
"Well, still," he looked her in the eyes, "thank you for an evening I will not forget until my dying day."
León put his hands beneath her underarms and he picked her up level with his face. He then pulled her in with an open mouth and met her lips with a kiss.
They held into one another for more than a full minute. To her utter delight, Tasìa stayed calm. Though she did pee herself for a trace sprinkle, it was a happy little pee, not an anxiety-filled pee.
When they unlocked lips, Tasìa grinned back at him.
"Damn," was all that she could gasp out of her tonsil tickled mouth.