I don't have a fucking clue as to what I am doing. Or what I'm supposed to do next.

Even through uncle Al's Facebook friends, there was no sign of my brother. I didn't even know it was possible to be this invisible on social media in this day and age.

"Hey!" I drag my eyes up as my elbow knicks someone on my way out of the airport. A giant, blue duffel bag falls to the floor, but I'm kinda distracted by the tight jeans and even tighter T-shirt the girl's wearing so my foot gets tangled with one of the straps and I almost lose my balance. "Watch it, dude," she gasps, reaching for my forearm to steady me.

I feel like such a loser right now, acting like a total simp for this chick.

"Man, you've got to be kidding me," she huffs, shoving her mirrored sunglasses into luxurious locks of hair that resemble a dark chocolate silk. I watch how a puddle forms underneath her bag and onto the pavement.

"Fuck, sorry..." I reach down to get her bag off the ground, but she stops me with a string of curse words that tumble from plush, pillowy lips with ease. I almost laugh. My mother would be appalled.

"Don't touch it, okay? You'll only make it worse. I need to see what's fucking broken."

I watch like she's an animal at the zoo when she drops to her knees and starts unzipping the bag, pulling out a carton with what used to be six bottles of beer as her hair flutters around her back, the wind tousling it perfectly.

"Come the fuckon." Another paragraph of 'fucks' falls from her lips, but this time I do laugh. She shoots me the angriest of looks.

"I'm glad you think this is funny, since you're gonna have to fucking pay for all this." This wildcat has some vicious claws.

"Pay forwhat,exactly? Your alcohol addiction?" Like I'm one to talk.

I thought she was angry before, but right now she looks as if those taffey eyes of hers could shoot lasers at me.

"What the fuck is your deal?" Her brows knit together as she scowls at me. This is not usually how I deal withladies. "I've been on the hunt for these for a while now to prove that they're trying to fucking copymyown fucking recipe and now that you just fucking broke them all there's no way of getting them analyzed," she rattles.

One angry wildcat.

I'm taken aback a little by her revelation. Not an alcoholic, but abrewer?

"I-, I'm..." I stand there, mouth open wide, looking like some kind of deranged fish. A fish out of water.

"You're what, asshole?" I get an arched brow as she looks up, the sun making her eyes look like melted caramel. She's absolutely gorgeous and I've been a total dick.

I'm way off my game, apparently because I've never actually been in a fickle fight like this with a girl. Ever.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to knock you over, I didn't even see you. But I've actually never been here before, my life's fallen to absolute shits and I don't know... I really am sorry." I don't know what this is but apparently this wild brunette makes me word vomit.

Her head tilts to the side, a change in her demeanor.

"Wow, you do look like you need to get stuff off your chest. Your aura's all blocked, dude. What do you say, wanna talk about it? You could repay me for the damage here and do the laundry you've ruined with premium Europe beer and I could ask about your troubles over a fine home-brewed pint of Swansong?"

"What the hell is a Swansong?" I frown, laughing at the way she gets up enthusiastically, pulling the belt loops of her jeans to hike them up. She's kinda hot in that quirky, fun way. Not what I usually go for.

"Gosh, you're so ignorant...Time to find out, I guess," she shrugs.

"Do you always pick up strange men from the airport or is this your first time?" I laugh, she grants me a snicker while she rolls her eyes.

"God," she starts, looking me up and down with a grin as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "As if I'd let you molest me. I'd like to see you try."

I can't help but laugh. Again. It's like I'm on some shit. But it's all her.

"I'm not really into that," I retort.

"Cool, we're on the same page then." She hoists the leaking bag over her shoulder and digs for her keys in the side pocket. "By the way, I'm big into kickboxing, so you wouldn't stand a chance."

"What makes you think I'm not into boxing?" I shoot back.

"Those prissy, soft-looking hands of yours, for one."

"Wow," I don't know what else to say.

"Coming, or not?"

She won't have to ask me twice.