Page 9 of Grease & Grips
Simple, terrifying, and mine if I want it.
3
Ain’t nobody here.
The chain-link’s rolled shut and locked up tight. Not like I expected anyone to still be around, but it’s a nice little reminder that everybody else clocks out. That’s what you do when you’ve got people waiting on you. You clock out. You go home.
You get to have a life.
It may not be a full life, but I do have this sexy-as-fuck man sitting next to me, watching eagerly as we pull into the gravel lot of the shop looking around like this busted-up garage might actually be interesting.
Like I might be interesting.
Its got me all kinds of fucked up.
Andrés shoots me an eager look, as I shut off the truck.
“Not much I can do tonight,” I say clearing my throat, hands still on the wheel. “But I’ll make it top priority. Get to it first thing in the morning.”
There’s no response and that somehow makes me clam up even more.
“I just…” I tug at the tiny hairs at the back of my neck. “Yeah, I guess you’ll wanna grab a ride now? Sycamore Motel isn’t too far.”
Silence stretches between us until it ends with a single nod.
“You think I could pop in and use the bathroom real quick?”
I wish he’d head out so I could finally catch my breath. Anything so I can stop pretending like I’m not hanging on by a thread. I need the space more than I need him, even if my body’s real determined to argue otherwise.
Still, after everything, kicking him out now would make me seem like an asshole. Can’t make the guy wait and then shove him off like he’s nothing. Not when he’s been anything but.
“Sure,” I say, already popping the door.
“Okay,” he says, reaching for the handle. “I’ve got some stuff in my car I need to grab too.”
“Let me get it off the tow.”
The night air hits me the second I step outta the truck, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to cool me off. That heat’s still sitting heavy under my skin. Same one that lit up the second I saw his face and no amount of breeze is putting that fire out.
My boots crunch across the lot as I step over to the rig and begin to unlatch it. I’ve unloaded probably a thousand cars from this truck, but tonight, autopilot won’t kick in. I can’t stop wondering if he’s watching.
I hate how bad I wanna look just to check.
Once the car’s unhooked, I pop the trunk and he pulls out a small duffel bag. Guess the man travels light.
“Bathroom’s back there in the corner,” I say once we’re inside the shop, nodding past the front desk and the line of tool lockers. “I’ll just stay out front. Take your time.”
He weaves through the junk like it’s nothing. Past the jacks, the shelves stacked with filters, the busted vending machine that only works half the time, and the greasy carts that noone’s bothered to clean. Walks like he’s done it a hundred times before.
Once he disappears into the back, I step out onto the small concrete slab out front, pull a cigarette from the pack in my back pocket, and light it with shaking fingers.
Leaning against the doorway, I let the smoke settle in my lungs begging it to calm whatever the hell’s happening inside me. This man fell into my lap and let me tell you, that doesn’t happen often around here.
After that charged moment in the truck, I want to see if maybe he’s as into me as I’m into him. See what his lips taste like. See if he’d let me know what it feels like to have his dick tickle the back of my throat.
I could do what Gary said and make the most of this. Try to be the kind of guy who chooses to make shit happen, but Andrés would probably laugh in my face. Because whatever this is isn’t real.
Guys like me in places like this don’t end up with men like Andrés. I don’t get handsome, exotic men from somewhere else.
