A/N I know Negan was a gym coach, but he's a high school baseball coach in this because of sexy baseball pants reasons. This chapter is a little longer than they have been.

I lie face down on the couch, my arm slung off it as I use the remote to find something other than porn. My pants are still around my ankles from last night. I don't even care.

Lightning rips open the sky. Shit, I didn't know it was going to rain. I stop channel surfing on a coca-cola commercial. The last time it rained was the first time I talked to Vin. Soda commercial. Rain. No, Negan, be good. Other women are the reason why your pants are around your ankles. I click the button again. The Fast and the Furious just ended as the credits roll.

VIN DIESEL

Ok, fuck it. The universe is telling me to stick my dick in Vin. Who am I to interject? I trip twice pulling my pants up. I'm not about to wait around for Lucille to get home from fucking the sailor.

Vin is completely oblivious that I've snuck into the supermarket. Though, at the moment, she's got some guy losing his shit that her store won't price match these internet coupons. Keep running your mouth, motherfucker. I'll see you in the parking lot. Finally, my turn. I write 'dinner?' on the back of a greeting card and send it down the belt.

As Vin picks it up to scan, she laughs.

"That's some suave romantic as fuck shit, right?"

"It was a little corny, and you damaged the card so I have to charge you. Four seventy-nine."

"What time do you get off?" I hand her the five.

"In twenty minutes."

"I'll be waiting." Waiting to get you off. Shit. I should have taken down the photos of me and Lucille. That way I could take Vin home and fuck her there rather than some cheap motel. Then again, you did tell your wife about this woman. I shouldn't have to sneak around with her.

I find that coupon fuck in the parking lot. He's pissing his pants by the time we're done. I didn't even have to hit him once! What a vagina. I return to my spot and wait for Vin. Fuck, I should have shaved. It gives you an extra inch. Hmm, I wonder if there's time to run home? Oh, nevermind. "You like," I boast when she seems impressed by my car.

"This is a Boss 429, of course. That same car sold for half a million dollars in an auction a few weeks ago."

The cocky grin fades from my face. "Get the fuck out of fucksville."

She tugs out one of those free autotrader magazines from her purse. "Here. Read this article."

On one hand, it's rather somber because it shows how little she has. Spending her spare time absorbing useless knowledge because this just happened to be free entertainment. And then when I read the article, it pisses me off. If my dad would have taken care of this car, I might be sitting pretty. "Yeah, well, the floorboards probably weren't rusted on top of all the other things wrong with it to get half a mil. I got it in a will when my father passed."

"It's a shame he didn't take care of it, but it's still beautiful. Oh," she laughs, when her foot almost does go through the floorboard. "You weren't kidding."

"Just scoot the cardboard and floor mat back over it. There's no A/C or heater. You can use these." I hand her the hand warmers.

"Thank you," she smiles. "Is Mcdonald's alright?"

My eyebrow tugs upward. "I was thinking somewhere that didn't have a play place."

Vin seems nervous but agrees. However, her confidence thins when I pull up to the Italian restaurant. "Um, I'm not really dressed for this place."

"You're fine. I've gone in fancier places in my dirty baseball pants."

"Oh, do you play professionally?"

"No, I coach baseball at the high school a few towns over. Uh, which, you wouldn't still be a student of…" I feel stupid for not asking. Holy shit.

"I'm twenty-two."

Thank fuck.

"This is embarrassing, but," Vin starts, "I don't know your name. Unless you want me to call you coach."

Save that for bed. Shit, fuck, don't fucking tell her that. "Negan. My name's Negan. Come on, it's starting to rain again." The rain makes me wonder if it's the only reason she came. That way she wouldn't be out in the woods in it. Don't think like that, she smiled at you about your crazy soda collection, which is still rattling around in the back of the car.

The hostess greets us and asks how many. "Booth or table?"

I look down at Vin to see if she has a preference but she just has this dazed look on her face. "Booth." I don't need a menu. This place has eighteen-inch pizza. "Have some bread."

"I was just looking for a price first on the menu."

"Huh? It's complimentary."

She sets her menu against the table and reaches in the basket.

I look away when she starts picking the small crumbs from the basket after she's finished her piece because it's upsetting me. "What'd you decide on?"

"The child's alfredo."

"Why the child's portion?"

"Because it's the most I can get and, hopefully, still stay under five dollars. I didn't bring my wallet and a five was all I had in my pocket."

Lies, of course. This is why she said she wasn't dressed for this place. She thought she had to pay. Every time I think about her in that purple tent in the woods with the princesses on it, it turns my stomach. "Vin, this is on me. I wouldn't ask you to come to dinner and then make you pay."

Before she can retort, the waiter asks if we've decided.

"Yes, she wants the full portion of alfredo. And I want the eighteen-inch pizza with everything but anchovies and pineapple on it." I hand over the menu. "They fucking know how to feed people here. Wait until you see the size of your plate. Like this fucking fucking big."

"Why do you casually swear so much?"

Shit. "You don't?"

She shakes her head.

"You against it?"

"I don't really have anything against it. I guess it wouldn't sound natural if I did it."

"Sure it would. Say you get your food and it's too hot. You say, this is hot as a motherfucker."

She looks at me funny.

"Ok, just try it. Don't be afraid to really get creative. Be like fuckity fuck fuck fuck this is hot."

"This is h-fuck-ot."

I bellow out a laugh. "Save that for bigger words. You know, I burned the skin off my tongue on this spaghetti and meat-fucking-balls."

She nods. "This fuck-fredo is scalding hot!"

"Better," I chuckle and laugh for real.

"You are a good coach."

"That's a horrible fucking thing to say." I don't laugh much these days but I grin ear to ear.

"I just mean you're patient. Persistent."

"I have thirty-two bottles of soda in my car right now. Persistent is an understatement."

"You should donate that to the food drive."

Speaking of food, we're brought enough to feed families. I don't even think I'll be able to finish. At least she can take it with her. "Slowdown, Christ. No one is going to take your food." And no one is going to turn the lights out on you.

The restaurant loses power from the storm.

Ok, bad fucking example. Luckily the little candle at our table gives us some light. I get up from my seat and sit next to her. It's my way of protecting what's mine in case people start getting crazy and looting or some shit.

I find myself disappointed when the power comes back on.

Poor Vin is practically smashed into the wall. "You're warm," she smiles faintly as she shifts some of her weight against me rather than the wall.

Am I fucking losing it? Enjoying the touch of a girl I barely fucking know? This is cheating. I'm a married fucking man. I stare at the blank space on my finger where a wedding ring used to be. A space that hasn't been occupied in, at least, a year.

"Is it not the right kind?"

"What?"

"Your pizza."

"Oh, I got lost in thought."

"I can leave you to them."

I shake my head no. But it's nice to know that I can sit with somebody in silence without being judged. "What do you like to do for fun, Vin?"

"Go to the museum."

Free and warm. "What else?"

"The library."

Also free and warm. "What about a movie?"

"No. I've never been."

Because it's not free. With a statement like that it makes me wonder just how long she's been homeless. Who has never been to a fucking movie theater? Fuck, what if this is all she's ever known? "I'll take you next Friday."

"Ok, I get paid that day."

I shake my head no. "What did we learn today?"

"That next time I'm ordering eighteen fucking inches."

I toss my head back in laughter. I've got some inches for her alright. "We learned that if I ask I pay, not you."

She blushes a bit before tilting her chin down. "It feels wrong."

"Is it the age difference?"

"No. This is all new to me. I'm just used to being on my own."

Negan, don't fuck this up by opening your mouth and telling her that you know she's homeless.

"I'm ready when you are."

I'm real motherfucking gentlemanly and open the car door to help her in, then hand her the leftovers. The things I do for pussy all the while being one.

I start my car, feeling guilty thinking she'd be down with fucking me in a cheap motel.

"Thank you for dinner, Negan."

As I stare back at her, I think about how when Lucille and I went to dinner the other night. How disgusted she is with me. How she insulted my car. How she'd rather complain about the cold than take the hand warmers. How we don't talk. How a two hundred dollar dinner couldn't appease her. How instead of a thank you for dinner I got the knowledge of knowing she's going to go fuck somebody that's not me.

Then there's Vin. How genuine that smile was when she saw me. How impressed she was with my car. How she eagerly took the hand warmers. How there was never a dull moment. How she scours the menu to try to find the cheapest thing. How thankful she was for an eight dollar plate of alfredo. How there is nobody I'd rather fuck right now than her. "Do you want to…" Don't fucking ruin shit with your mouth. Just don't fucking as to fuck.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can walk."

I lean over and close the door. "No, that's not what I meant." I study the details of her face close like this. Her dark eyes behind long eyelashes hidden by these ridiculous glasses. I watch for any indication that she'd want to take things further.

Her shoulders shrug forward as her lips purse inward.

I move back in my seat because I don't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she is. "Where to?"

"If you don't mind, will you drop me off at the gym? I need to work out after all that pasta."

My perversion switches off instantly. I want so desperately to say something to her. To let her know that she doesn't have to hide her secret from me. She could come home with me. Or I could get just her a motel for a few days. Fuck, even help her find a homeless shelter.

Instead, I pull up to the gym because I don't want to mess with this fragile friendship we have. It was wrong of me to spy on her. I just hope it doesn't ruin everything when the time comes. "Goodnight."

"Good-fucking-night, coach," she smiles.

Per-fucking-version switch back on. That's my girl.

A/N I was trying to think of a car that Negan would fit in. I actually drive a Mustang and have a friend that's 6 foot 5 who fits in it just fine so that's why I picked the car for Negan. Though, I like visioning Negan on a motorcycle better. Wouldn't carry soda all that well. Ok, I'm rambling. Thanks for reading!